Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Could it be you can see them?” the priest asks.

Takashi doesn’t answer. He just made an absolute display of himself in front of this priest. He knocked the man over in a panic and then had a conversation with several yokai and Nyanko-sensei. He talked to thin air extensively and then to his pet cat who talked back—

He kneels there in the long grass of Yatsuhara, and there’s nothing he could possibly say to fix this, to take it all back. Nothing.

In response to Takashi’s paralyzed silence, the priest’s expression softens. “No, you don’t need to answer. If you want to talk, please come by anytime. You might get along well with my son.”

His son?

Takashi had been sure that Tanuma was the exorcist plaguing the yokai of Yatusuhara. He’d been sure of it. The mysterious Tanuma Kaname had felt the same as the mysterious figure in Yatsuhara.

Obviously, he was wrong. The figure is this priest, not Tanuma, but—

“Priest, what’s your name?” Takashi asks, all twisted up inside with cautious hope.

“My name is Tanuma,” the priest says, with a friendly smile. “And my son’s name is Kaname.”

Tanuma.

Takashi leaves Yatsuhara in a daze. Nothing about today went like he expected it to. He doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or thrilled, upset or happy.

He gets home, has dinner, smiles politely at the right times. He goes to his room to try to do some homework. Stares at the words on the paper but can’t hold them in his head.

Eventually he gives up. He hasn’t been at this school for long, but his teachers are already used to his erratic schoolwork. He works hard at what he’s able to turn in, but—

He can’t focus on his failures either. They’re nothing new. What’s new is—

They said Tanuma is the same as Takashi. Kitamoto and Nishimura told him today. The way Tanuma always runs off, the way he goes pale all of a sudden and looks scared. That’s why Takashi was so sure, that’s why he let himself hope—

He’s hoped before. He thought he’d learned to stop hoping for impossible things a long time ago. But here he is, hoping.

He checks the windows to see if any yokai are lurking outside, waiting to ask for their names back or beg for favors or attack him. At least for now, everything’s quiet. Nyanko-sensei’s gone again, maybe with those new yokai now that Yatsuhara is safe for them. Probably drinking.

Good riddance. He draws the blinds, goes to bed.

He lies awake, playing it all over in his head.

If Nyanko-sensei and the Mid-Ranks and Misuzu hadn’t all been there with him, Takashi would have thought that Tanuma-san must be another yokai. But they were sure the priest is human.

And Tanuma Kaname? Is he human? Nyanko-sensei doesn’t come with Takashi to school. His teachers tolerate a lot but they wouldn’t let him bring his cat to class. So there’s no one he can ask.

It’s not enough that other people can see Tanuma. Powerful yokai can pretend to be human. And Takashi felt something from him, some kind of power, just like he felt Tanuma-san’s power.

But Tanuma-san can’t see yokai. He can purify them with incredible force, but he can’t See.

But Tanuma Kaname goes pale and scared all of a sudden. So surely—

Takashi groans as he thinks about going back to school in the morning. He made a display of himself there, too. Shouted at the Mid-Ranks several times, right in front of his schoolmates.

His newest school is already full of rumors about him, about his questionable past and his questionable mental health. Everyone there already knows there’s something wrong with him. They always do, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. But he hates making it worse, adding fuel to the ever-burning fire of his reputation.

He’s always told himself it’s for the best. If he doesn’t get anyone’s hopes up, they might not hate him as much when they find out what he is. He’s going to be gone soon anyway. Handed off again to another unwilling family, another school full of rumors. When that happens, the people who are suffering from him will forget he was ever there, and be happy again.

Except the Fujiwaras aren’t unwilling. They asked him to come live with him. He’s been here for long enough for their kind expressions to fade, for their patience to wear thin. But they haven’t.

One day they’ll come to their senses. Even the Fujiwaras can’t have endless patience. If he’s very lucky, he’ll run out the last of his childhood here, and then he can get a job and his own place and stop being a burden.

He was lucky today. Tanuma-san can’t see yokai, but he believes in them and doesn’t fear them. And he invited Takashi to come back, urged him to meet his son.

Takashi turns in his bed, unsettled, confused. That invitation—

Tanuma-san shouldn’t have made it. It was a mistake. So many people have made the mistake of inviting him into their lives. He knows how it ends. He knows how this must end.

His stomach twists with sudden anger, and he clutches at his blanket, knuckles white. Anger at the Fujiwaras, at Tanuma-san. At Kitamoto and Nishimura for being so kind to him, even though they already know what he is, told him to his face today that they know. At Nyanko-sensei for his half-hearted protection, when Takashi shouldn’t have any protection at all.

He shoves the anger down, away. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. He should just be grateful. He should just smile and not upset anyone. Every moment of their kindness is more than he deserves and he should treat it like the gift that it is.

A knock on his window startles him badly. When he gathers his wits, he braces himself and opens the curtains. The ones who knock are usually the least trouble. Glad for the distraction, Takashi lets in the yokai and gives back its name. In exchange, he gets a new memory of Reiko and her games, and enough exhaustion to finally quiet his racing thoughts.

Another page gone. So many to go.

He closes the window, draws the blinds, and collapses back into bed. He’s asleep in seconds.

The next morning, the Mid-Ranks are back, cheering him on again in thanks. This time Takashi keeps his expression calm and doesn’t react, like he wishes he always could. It’s a small victory.

It doesn’t matter. The damage from yesterday is already done. There’s more people glancing at him and whispering to each other than usual. It will die down soon, until he makes another display of himself.

But Nishimura and Kitamoto still walk with him like they always do, treat him like they always do. They complain about the homework Natsume couldn’t finish last night. They talk about a tv show they both watch. Takashi should probably start watching more tv so he can contribute to their conversations, but he never has the time.

His teachers all look at him with resigned disappointment as he turns in his incomplete homework. He learned a long time ago to not bother with excuses, and just write his apologies directly on the homework. He doesn’t especially want their sympathy, but not apologizing feels rude when he is sorry. He wants to be better at school, but he never has the time.

And then it’s lunch. Takashi doesn’t eat, can’t eat. He goes to the same window as he did before and looks down at the cheering Mid-Ranks in the school garden, and waits.

He feels Tanuma Kaname before he sees him, just like he did yesterday. Maybe Tanuma’s power is religious, like his father? Being the child of a priest must make one especially devout.

Tanuma-san said his son is sensitive, that he gets affected by things, gets sick from them. And that’s why he was purifying Yatsuhara, to soothe the spirits there.

Takashi watches as Tanuma walks up to the other window and looks down, right at the Mid-Ranks. Takashi’s heart is racing, but he keeps his expression perfectly calm. Today, he is staying calm. He is grateful for every kindness, every meeting.

“Can you see them?” he asks, calmly.

Tanuma turns, surprised.

“Down there. Do you see something strange?”

“No,” Tanuma says.

Takashi’s heart is quietly crushed. Of course he can’t. Of course. It was absurd to—

“But for a moment, I saw two strange shadows,” Tanuma continues. He gives a small, self-effacing laugh. The kind Takashi knows all too well, from the inside. “Sometimes I see shadows and feel a presence. Sorry for being weird.”

It’s like Takashi’s been struck. Tanuma’s words ring him like a bell, shaking up everything Takashi tries to tell himself he doesn’t feel.

“I heard a rumor that sometimes you act like you see things,” Tanuma continues. “So I wanted to talk to you. But it’s probably my imagination.”

And before Takashi can even think of talking himself out of it, he walks right up to Tanuma and says, calmly, “I can see them. I can see very weird things.”

Tanuma looks at him in surprise again.

Takashi used to tell people what he saw all the time. He pointed at yokai and asked if they needed another serving for their dinner guest, or screamed in terror and begged for help that never came.

He can’t stop himself from Seeing, but he could stop himself from Saying. So he stopped, and didn’t plan to ever start again.

It helps. It probably bought him an extra month or two with each family that housed him. He wants to stay in Hitoyoshi for as long as he can.

“It’s a secret, though,” Takashi adds. Has to add. It probably doesn’t matter what Tanuma tells people, when everyone already knows what he is. But rumors and strange behavior are one thing, Saying is another.

He shouldn’t be doing this. It’s pushing his luck. He doesn’t think there’s anyone left to take him, if the Fujiwaras change their minds too soon. But he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

“We might just be the weird ones,” he says, with just the right amount of self-effacing humor. Just the right smile.

“I see,” Tanuma says. “You may be right.” And then he smiles, like Takashi smiles. And that smile rings Takashi like a bell, too.

If he wasn’t so perfectly calm today, Takashi would be screaming. But he is calm. He is grateful.

“Maybe you could come over sometime,” Tanuma says. “To the temple, I mean. My dad’s a great cook.”

Dinner. Tanuma is inviting him to dinner. With his dad.

It’s suddenly all too much.

“Of course,” Takashi lies, keeping his smile perfect. “Thank you, that’s very generous. Touko-san, one of the people I live with, is also a wonderful cook.” Why did he say that? He absolutely should not be inviting someone who can See, even a little bit, to the Fujiwara house.

“The people you live with?” Tanuma asks, smile fading into confusion. “Not your parents?”

Ah. Tanuma hasn’t been here long enough to hear all the rumors, then. “I’m an orphan,” he says, calmly, even though inside he is absolutely panicking.

“Oh,” Tanuma says, startled, then pitying.

Takashi is used to that. “It’s all right, the Fujiwaras are very kind.” He tries to say more, about how lucky he is to be here, all the usual gratitudes, but as suddenly as all those words came out of him, they stop.

There’s an awkward silence.

And then Takashi comes to his senses.

He thought— Somehow he thought, if he could just find the right person, that would fix everything. They would understand each other without words. But what else is there to say, now that they’ve Said it?

Takashi already has to smile his way through every other human interaction in his life. Somehow it feels wrong to do that with Tanuma. But he can hardly talk to Tanuma like he does Nyanko-sensei or other yokai.

Tanuma isn’t the same as him, not really. He can only see shadows.

“It was good to meet you properly,” Takashi says, falling back on politeness. “I have to get back to class. I’m sure we’ll talk again soon.”

Takashi pauses just long enough to see Tanuma stare at him in hurt confusion, and then he turns and walks away, just walks, not caring where he ends up.

He ends up in a storage closet. He just stands there. Not panicking or breaking down. Just calm. But he can’t move either.

He misses an entire class period, standing there, stuck. The sound of people in the hall, walking past the closet door finally snaps him out of it. He feels thirsty and dizzy and didn’t get to each his lunch. When he gets to his desk, Nishimura taps him on the shoulder and asks if he needs to go to the nurse.

Takashi shakes his head. He’s fine. He’s calm.

When school ends, he sees Tanuma near the gate. Tanuma sees him. Starts towards him. Takashi smiles politely, then turns and walks away.

He can’t do this.

He usually meets Nyanko-sensei on the way home, but Takashi can’t go home. He can’t face the Fujiwaras, can’t face Nyanko-sensei. It’s dangerous for him to walk around like this, unprotected, but he’s stuck, like he was in the storage closet. Sometimes he gets stuck.

Somehow he ends up at a shrine. He stands there, just inside the gates, feeling the strong power of the shrine’s protection, and tries to be calm.

And then he hears a noise from inside the shrine. And he freezes up in a different way.

To his horrified relief, Tanuma-san steps out of the shrine. “Natsume-kun?” he says, surprised.

“Why—“ is all Takashi can get out of himself. Why is Tanuma-san here? There isn’t usually anyone here, not yokai and not humans.

He never told Tanuma-san his name. So Kaname must have told him. They must have talked to each other about him yesterday, after Tanuma-san got back. People always talk about him.

“Now that Yatsuhara temple is restored, I have time to work on these neglected shrines,” Tanuma-san explains. He steps towards Takashi and frowns. “Are you feeling all right? You look pale.”

“I missed lunch,” Takashi lies. Half-lies.

Tanuma-san puts a gentle hand on him, and guides him over to the shrine building to sit.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much,” Tanuma-san says, reaching into a bag on the wooden platform. “But I think— Ah, here we go.” He pulls out an orange and a cloth napkin. He sits down next to Takashi and starts peeling it. “It’s always good to bring a snack.”

Takashi thinks of Touko’s bento, still wrapped and untouched in his bag. He can’t take a priest’s food. “Thank you, that’s very generous, but—“

“Here you go,” Tanuma-san says, ignoring his protest. He places several segments of orange into Takashi’s hands. “Just a few bites and you’ll feel better.” And then he eats a segment himself, and gives Takashi a warm smile.

Takashi eats the orange segments. The sharp sweetness helps somehow, pulling him down from the strange state he’s been floating in.

“I’m sorry,” he says, embarrassed. He made another display of himself already. He missed class, standing like an idiot in a closet for ages. There’s no excuse for his behavior. No one did anything to him, not humans or yokai. It was just his own weakness, his own failure.

When Tanuma-san gets home, Tanuma will tell him what happened. That Takashi admitted he can see yokai, and then was rude to Tanuma twice. Tanuma must already be realizing his mistake in trying to be friends with Takashi.

And of course it’s only now that Takashi even realizes that’s what’s been happening. Tanuma kept trying to meet him and kept chickening out, and then finally talked to him today. And it was all going fine until Takashi ruined it. Tanuma probably doesn’t want anything to do with him now.

Takashi shouldn’t have taken the orange segments. He needs to pay Tanuma-san back. He reaches into his own bag and takes out Touko’s bento. He’ll have to pay Touko back for the bento container and the wrapping. Maybe he can buy replacements so she won’t notice? It’s always better if he can hide that anything was broken or lost in the first place.

But he doesn’t know where to find the same ones. So the next best option is to pay for it. He has enough on him, despite the way Nyanko-sensei’s gluttonous appetite drains his wallet. It’s safest to pay right away, so any anger fades quickly. And this way, Touko-san can buy new ones she likes.

He hands Tanuma-san the bento, and Tanuma-san takes it, confused.

“Thank you,” Takashi says, with a bow. “Please give my sincere apologies to your son for my unacceptable behavior.”

And then Takashi turns and leaves as fast as he can without obviously running away.

He goes home and smiles. When Touko-san asks for the bento container, Takashi lies and says he lost it. He tries to pay for it, but Touko-san won’t let him.

He should have known she wouldn’t. The Fujiwaras are frustratingly generous. He’s grateful, deeply so. If they were any less generous he wouldn’t be living with them. But he already owes them so much.

Today was full of mistakes. Yesterday too. Takashi knows better than to engage with yokai. He tries to avoid them as much as he avoids humans. But yokai don’t care about how strange he is. If they want to engage with him, there’s little he can do to stop them.

He’ll do better tomorrow. He’ll apologize to Tanuma and smile at him the same way he smiles at everyone else. Then everything will be fine.

He goes up to his room and pushes everything out of his mind. His teachers returned his incomplete homework and gave him an extra day to finish it. That was more than kind of them. So he can’t disappoint them.

No distractions, no name returns. Not until he gets everything done. He has so much to make up for.

Chapter Text

Natsume Takashi probably thinks Kaname is a stalker.

It’s not that Kaname doesn’t want to talk to the other transfer student. He absolutely does want to talk to him. But each time he’s gathered up the courage, went to Natsume’s classroom or saw him in the halls, Kaname ended up turning and walking away without a word.

Kaname heard about Natsume even before he came to Hitoyoshi. It’s not unusual for his dad to find potential friends for him when they move somewhere new. Other transfer students are a popular choice, but also whatever kids Kaname’s age happen to live near the temples they stay at.

Kaname’s dad is a bit of a meddler. But it comes with the job of a priest. He likes to help people, likes to get to know each community, even if they aren’t staying there long. He loves people in a way that Kaname can’t quite manage.

So of course, when the rebuilding of Yatsuhara temple was finally complete, and Kaname was preparing to move from what is presumably his last temporary home, his dad was delighted to tell him that he’d heard about a transfer student the same age as Kaname, who arrived only a few weeks earlier.

Kaname had tolerantly sighed over the phone and said he’d give Natsume a shot once he arrived. Just because they’re both transfer students doesn’t mean they’ll become friends, or even like each other. It doesn’t mean Kaname will find anything more than acquaintances here.

It’s not that the people Kaname meets are bad people. Not at all. But when he moves a lot, and misses a third of his classes to migraines, when he feels sick for another third, it’s hard to build any kind of relationship with anyone. So at some point, to his dad’s dismay, Kaname gave up on making real friends. But he still tries, if only for his dad’s sake.

And then on his first day of school, Natsume was all his classmates wanted to talk to him about. They said he’s strange, smiles a lot but is hard to talk to. He sleeps in class. He’s quiet all the time except when he screams and runs like something’s chasing him, even though there’s never anything there.

Everyone’s pretty sure he’s crazy. But he’s very polite. Some kids in his class are friends with him, and that counts for something. And as long as you don’t get in the way when he’s running, he isn’t dangerous.

The second day of school, Kaname saw Natsume running down the hallway at incredible speed. Natsume glanced back over his shoulder and looked terrified. But there was nothing chasing him. Everyone in the hall stepped aside as fast as they could, and then proceeded on as if all this was perfectly normal.

Kaname tried to follow, but Natsume was too fast. He ran right out of the school and down the street, and didn’t come back until the next day. And again, no one batted an eye.

Kaname has lived in a lot of places, but he’s never seen anything like this.

And then someone told him that Natsume can see spirits. That that’s the reason he gets scared and runs. He’s being chased by ghosts and monsters no one else can see.

The student who told him laughed after he said it. He didn’t really mean it. It was just a story people told, because what other explanation was there for Natsume aside from ghosts or mental illness? And ghosts were a lot more fun to whisper about when Natsume wasn’t around.

The whole thing made Kaname uncomfortable. But it also made him want, for the first time in a long time, to reach out. Because Kaname can see and feel things no one else can see. And if there’s someone else who can see and feel those same things too, it means neither of them is crazy.

And when Natsume ran desperately through the hall, Kaname’s head started hurting. The way it always starts hurting when there’s spirits nearby.

Kaname sighs and puts aside the book he’s barely reading.

He knows he’s not crazy. He does. His dad is a priest, they both know that spirits are real. But his dad can’t see what he sees. And Kaname isn’t even sure what it is that he sees. Shadows, vague shapes, solid ones he can only glimpse. Reflections from things that aren’t there, like the ripples from a pond that reflect on the ceiling of his bedroom here, even though there’s no pond for the light to shine on. Mostly what Kaname gets are feelings. A sense of a presence, sometimes benign and sometimes putting chills up his spine. Too much presence, especially of the second kind, and he gets headaches and even fevers.

That’s why they’ve moved around so much. Looking for answers, for cures for Kaname’s condition. Spiritual or medical, they’ve tried them all. But nothing’s really helped. Spirits are everywhere all the time, and Kaname doesn’t tolerate them well, and no one can do anything about it.

And that’s how they ended up here. Dad has dragged Kaname up and down Japan his whole life, and in the end it was all for nothing. So it was time to find somewhere quiet and pleasant and settle down. Dad chose Hitoyoshi, a beautiful little jewel of a town nestled in the forested mountains of Kyushu, away from all the noise and stress of city life, and got to work restoring the abandoned temple of Yatsuhara.

Kaname wants to be happy here. He wants to finally live somewhere long enough to put down roots. Even if there’s things he’ll never be healthy enough for, he wants to build a life for himself that isn’t about trying and failing to not be sick.

And he wants to talk to Natsume Takashi about what he sees when he’s running away so fast. Kaname just can’t seem to find the words.

“I’m home,” Dad announces.

“Welcome home,” Kaname calls back to him. He gets up and stretches, shaking off his moody thoughts, focusing on the here and now. Pushing aside everything about Natsume. He’ll deal with it later.

His dad has been out on his usual walk around Yatsuhara. He’s been doing them ever since Kaname moved in, going out and “soothing the monsters,” as he calls it. It actually has been helping. His father’s purification rituals are the only thing that ever has.

“How were the monsters?” Kaname asks, their familiar, private little joke.

“They asked me to stop,” Dad says. He sounds rather shocked.

Kaname frowns at his dad, confused. “Did something happen?”

“I met a strange boy,” Dad says. “About your age. He said the monsters asked him to stop me from purifying them.”

No. It couldn’t be. But if it is— “What was his name?” Kaname asks.

“I’m afraid he didn’t say,” Dad says. He holds up his hand. “About this tall, rather skinny, ashy blond hair. He had a talking cat.”

“A what?” Kaname says, distracted from the fact that his father’s description matches Natsume’s.

“A talking cat,” Dad says again. He looks at Kaname in bewilderment, then laughs. “And it was the oddest looking creature. It had such a big head, and it was so round. Like a tanuki.”

“What did it say?” Kaname asks, equally bewildered.

“It called the boy an idiot.”

Kaname has no idea what to say to that. “Maybe you should start at the beginning?”

They sit down at the kitchen table and his dad tells him about going on his walk, soothing the monsters as he usually does. And then a boy ran out of the trees and knocked him down. The boy talked excitedly to his cat and also to something else that wasn’t visible, but must have been some kind of spirits.

“He thought I could see them too,” Dad says. “He seemed rather shocked when he realized I couldn’t. He said the monsters here aren’t very bad.”

“Dad, I think— That might have been Natsume. That transfer student you told me about.”

“Natsume Takashi?” Dad asks.

Kaname nods. “I saw him at school. I haven’t talked to him, but— He sees things.”

Dad breaks into a delighted grin. “I knew he was a good match for you! That’s what I told him.”

“You told him about me?” Kaname asks, alarmed.

“Of course I did,” Dad says. “You need a friend. Natsume does too, I’m sure of it. Why haven’t you talked to him yet? I told him he was welcome to come here anytime. You should invite him over for dinner.”

“Oh my god, Dad, stop,” Kaname pleads, embarrassed.

“I just want you to be happy here,” Dad says. “To have friends your own age. For you and Natsume to both move here, so close together? It’s meant to be, I know it in my heart.”

Sometimes his father sounds like a matchmaker. But Kaname’s never had much interest in dating. Being sick all the time makes it impossible anyway. Even if there was someone he liked in that way, he wouldn’t want to burden them with himself.

He focuses back on what’s important. If that really was Natsume—

“Do you think he’s still out there?” Kaname asks. “In the forest?”

“I’m sure he went home,” Dad says. “It is a school night.”

“Right,” Kaname says, with an edge of a laugh. It feels impossibly mundane to think of school at a time like this. But life always goes on.

“I’ll find out more about him tomorrow,” Dad says, far too eagerly. “Oh, this is very exciting!”

“Let me talk to him first,” Kaname pleads. “He might not even like me.”

“I know he’ll like you,” Dad declares. “Find out if he has a cat.”

“You’re sure the cat talked?”

“Perhaps the cat is possessed by a spirit?”

Kaname rubs a hand through his hair. “This is too weird.” Feelings and shadows are one thing. But a talking cat?

At school the next morning, Kaname asks his classmates if Natsume has a cat.

He does. A weird cat with a big face that he found in the woods or something. He doesn’t bring it to school, but he carries it with him everywhere else. Or it follows him around like a pet dog.

Kaname is so nervous he’s sweating. He wishes he could be as good at people as his dad is. He’s not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing that Natsume sounds as socially awkward as Kaname is.

And then it’s lunch. Kaname can’t even think of eating, his stomach is too full of butterflies. He looks for Natsume in the places he’s seen him before.

And there he is, standing in a hallway, looking out the window, down at the garden below. He looks oddly serene. Now that Kaname has more than a few seconds to look, he realizes how pretty Natsume is. The way his light hair frames his delicate features.

Embarrassed at himself, Kaname looks away, out the window beside him. He looks where Natsume was looking, the same place they both looked two days ago.

Those shadows are back, two spots of darkness in the middle of the sunny garden. Kaname can’t feel them from this distance, but he can see them. And he realizes he can feel something else.

It’s Natsume. Natsume feels like the spirits. And it’s not a weak feeling. Kaname braces himself for the inevitable headache, but nothing happens.

“Can you see them?” Natsume asks.

Tanuma turns, startled from his thoughts.

“Down there. Do you see something strange?” Natsume is looking at him intensely, despite his calm expression.

“No,” Tanuma admits. “But for a moment, I saw two strange shadows.” It’s surreal to be talking about this to someone new, someone who isn’t a priest or a monk. He gives a nervous laugh, suddenly worried he has Natsume all wrong, that this is a test he’s failing. “Sometimes I see shadows and feel a presence. Sorry for being weird. I heard a rumor that sometimes you act like you see things. So I wanted to talk to you. But it’s probably my imagination.”

Kaname finally stops rambling, and he’s messed this up, he’s definitely messed this up.

And then Natsume walks right up to him and says, calmly, “I can see them. I can see very weird things.”

Kaname does feel a chill, then, but not for the usual reasons. For all his calm, there’s an intensity to Natsume, a powerful tension right beneath the surface. And up close, Kaname can feel his presence even stronger. What is Natsume? Is he even human? Is he possessed, like his cat?

“It’s a secret, though,” Natsume says, still looking away, out the window. “We might just be the weird ones.”

“I see,” Kaname says.

And then Natsume turns to Kaname and gives him a happy smile. Despite his swirling thoughts and questions, Kaname can’t help but smile back.

“You may be right,” Kaname agrees. Whatever else, they are the weird ones. He finally isn’t weird alone.

Kaname understands his dad’s enthusiasm now. Kaname does need a friend, someone like him, who sees the world he does. He’s needed that for a long time. He wants to invite Natsume over and find out everything about him and ask about his weird cat.

“Maybe you could come over sometime,” Kaname says. “To the temple, I mean. My dad’s a great cook.”

“Of course,” Natsume says, happy. “Thank you, that’s very generous. Touko-san, one of the people I live with, is also a wonderful cook.”

“The people you live with?” Kaname asks, confused. “Not your parents?” His dad didn’t mention that Natsume was here without his family.

“I’m an orphan,” Natsume says, his perfect smile unchanged.

“Oh,” Tanuma says, at a loss. Natsume’s expression doesn’t feel like a real smile anymore. It couldn’t possibly be real when he’s talking about being an orphan. Was it ever a real smile?

“It’s all right,” Natsume says. “The Fujiwaras are very kind.”

The Fujiwaras must be the people Natsume is living with. Do they know about any of this? Kaname has more questions by the second.

But Natsume’s smile is finally fraying at the edges. And Kaname doesn’t feel able to ask any of his questions, not in the middle of the school hallway, not when they’ve only just met. So there’s an awkward silence.

And whatever Natsume opened up in himself, taking to Kaname, it closes again. “It was good to meet you properly,” Natsume tells him, like they’re passing acquaintances on the street, and not two people who just admitted they can see spirits. “I have to get back to class. I’m sure we’ll talk again soon.”

Kaname can only stare in hurt confusion as Natsume turns and walks away.

What just happened? Everything was going great, better than Kaname could have hoped, and then it was like Natsume wanted them to be strangers again. Maybe talking about being an orphan was more upsetting than he let on? Maybe Natsume took one good look at Kaname and realized his mistake? It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.

Maybe it’s Yatsuhara. If the area around the temple is full of spirits, then maybe Natsume doesn’t want to go there? Except his dad said Natsume is friends with the spirits, or at least knows them well enough to help them out.

Kaname looks out at the two shadows again. He’s tempted to wave to them. If only they could talk, maybe they could tell him about Natsume. The spirits would probably know more than his rumor-loving classmates.

Kaname sighs and goes to use the remainder of his lunch time to actually eat lunch.

When school ends, Kaname hurries out ahead of everyone else and waits for Natsume by the gate, hoping they can talk more away from everyone else, maybe on the way to one of their homes. But the moment Natsume sees him, he bolts, leaving Kaname even more disheartened.

Well. So much for that.

On the way home, Kaname considers if maybe Hitoyoshi shouldn’t be the place he finally puts down roots after all. He dreads the thought of seeing Natsume every day, knowing Natsume wants nothing to do with him. At least they’re not in the same class, but they’ll still have to see each other all the time, in school and around town. Kaname would try to fix things, but he doesn’t even know what he needs to fix. Natsume left him with nothing but questions and confusion and unexpected hurt.

His dad is out when he gets home, so Kaname sits on the temple veranda and has a good sulk. He stares out at the forest and wishes he could actually see whatever’s out there. Maybe if he could fully see the spirit world, like Natsume apparently can, that would fix things between them. But he can’t, anymore than he can stop seeing shadows and getting migraines and being too weird to make friends.

Sometimes Kaname hates his life.

When he sees his dad walking up the path to the temple, Kaname shakes off his moody thoughts, pushes aside everything about Natsume. He’ll deal with it later, somehow.

“I’m home,” Dad announces, as he takes off his sandals.

“Welcome home,” Kaname says. He notices the strange expression on his dad’s face. “What happened? Did you run into Natsume again?” he jokes.

“Actually, I did,” Dad says, sounding just as shocked about it has he was yesterday. “He asked me to apologize to you and gave me his lunch?”

“He what?” Kaname laughs, baffled.

His dad sits down beside him, reaches into his bag and hands Kaname a bento. It’s full of delicious-looking food, packed with nutrition. Whoever made it must be a very good cook.

What was the name Natsume said? “Fujiwara Touko,” Kaname says.

“Fujiwara?” Dad echoes. “Oh yes, that’s the couple Natsume is staying with. Yes, Touko must have made this. She donated some jam a while back.”

“You didn’t tell me he’s an orphan,” Kaname says, letting out a little of his frustration.

“I was at a shrine, seeing what work needed to be done there,” Dad says. “He showed up, looking upset and rather pale. He said he hadn’t eaten but then gave me that. Then he ran off.”

“I talked to him at school,” Kaname says. “I told him what I can see. He said he can see spirits. I thought we could be friends, but then—“ He gives a frustrated huff. “I don’t know. Something I did upset him and now he’s avoiding me. I don’t understand him at all.”

“He’s an unusual boy,” Dad agrees.

“Everyone says he’s weird,” Kaname admits. “But I’m weird, too. I don’t know what to do. I just—“ He can’t put words to what he’s feeling, can’t get Natsume out of his head. Maybe it’s the strange feeling he had, being near him.

“You like him,” Dad says, smiling.

“I barely know him,” Kaname protests.

“Then don’t give up on him so quickly,” Dad says. “Whatever happened, he clearly feels bad about it, too. Accept his apology. Eat the bento so it doesn’t go to waste. Give him back the container and wrapping tomorrow and thank him.”

It’s not a terrible idea. And it’s not like Kaname has any better ones. “We’ll split it for dinner, with yesterday’s leftovers,” he decides.

“Good,” Dad approves. Then he looks out at the forest, thoughtful. “A boy who can see spirits and talk to them. I’ll say hello to Touko-san tomorrow, ask her about Natsume.”

“Dad, don’t,” Kaname pleads.

“Not for you,” Dad says. “You can find out everything about him the old fashioned way, by talking to him. But as a caretaker for this community, I need to know more.”

“Busybody,” Kaname prods.

“The busiest,” Dad agrees. “Don’t worry, I won’t betray his trust or yours. I just want to know if the Fujiwaras need help. I do have some experience with unusual children.”

“What about talking cats?” Kaname teases.

“You’re never too old to learn.”

Natsume and Tanuma's first meeting. Illustration by Debbie Oak (ginkohs)

Chapter Text

Once Kaname has left for school and the morning’s chores are done, Tanuma Kousuke closes the temple and goes for a walk.

The Fujiwara house isn’t too far from Yatsuhara, down in the valley along the river. But it’s in the wrong direction for Kaname and Takashi to be able to walk to school together.

Kousuke chuckles to himself. Kaname gets so terribly embarrassed about being matched up like this. He’s long past the age where he’s comfortable with his father making social arrangements for him.

But Kousuke can’t help it. It’s his fault that Kaname has so much trouble making friends, his own failure as a father. It was bad enough that they lost his beloved Misaki so soon after Tanuma’s birth. He should have found somewhere the two of them could settle down, instead of spending Kaname’s childhood chasing a cure that doesn’t exist.

Kousuke doesn’t recall Touko or Shigeru mentioning that Takashi is an orphan. But perhaps it’s too obvious to say. They only told Kousuke that they were excited to be giving Takashi a home in Hitoyoshi, and that he would be starting his first year of high school. And so Kousuke, who was eager to give his own son a home in Hitoyoshi, mentioned the other transfer student to Kaname and prayed for a little luck.

Someone out there seems to have listened. But after meeting Takashi himself, Kousuke realized that earthly intervention is also needed.

The Fujiwara house is bigger than he expected, but even from the outside there’s an air of coziness about it, with a small but well-tended vegetable garden, and flowers tucked all around the yard. A loud caw makes him look up, and he sees a black crow watching him from its perch in a nearby tree. He gives it a friendly wave and it caws at him again, then flies off.

“Kousuke-san?” Touko says, surprised. She’s holding a basket of wet laundry, and must have been hanging it up when she heard him approach. He didn’t think he’d made that much noise, walking up. Maybe the bird gave him away.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Kousuke says. “I just wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing. I haven’t seen you since the grand opening.”

“Oh, things have been so busy,” Touko says. “You aren’t interrupting at all. Let me just take care of this and I’ll make you some tea.”

“Let me help,” Kousuke insists. He takes the basket and carries it over to the drying lines. A few pieces are already hanging, and the two of them hang the rest. Kousuke didn’t mean to be quite this nosy, but he sees what must be Takashi’s clothing, and while it looks fairly new, there are quite a few places where tears in the fabric have been carefully mended.

By Touko? By Takashi?

Some of the tears are in parallel lines. Like claw marks.

They go inside, and Touko pours them each a cup of tea. “How are things in Yatsuhara? Is the temple doing well?”

“Oh yes, thank you. Starting up a new temple like this, it really is an extraordinary amount of work.” They chat for a bit about upcoming festivals, and a program Kousuke is creating to help local families in need. Touko is interested in volunteering, preparing meals. She’s a kind soul, he saw that from the moment he met her.

And then he gently turns the conversation towards Takashi. “Thankfully my son Kaname is always happy to lend a hand. He has a good head on his shoulders. I think he mentioned bumping into Takashi at school the other day. Is he also settling in well?”

Touko hesitates for a moment before she smiles. “Yes, very well. He’s a sweet boy.”

Her sudden reluctance tells Kousuke that he was right to come here. “My wife died when Kaname was very young. It’s very hard on a child, to lose their parents at a young age.”

“Oh,” Touko says, distressed. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

Kousuke gives a small smile. “He was too young to truly remember her. But I saw how it changed him. Made him— More sensitive than other boys his age.”

“Yes,” Touko says, softly, her eyes distant. Thinking.

“No child is easy to raise,” Kousuke says, with gentle understanding. “But children who have suffered bring special challenges. I know you and Shigeru are giving Takashi a loving home. Just looking at this place, I can see that. But if you need help, or just someone to talk to— Please know that you can come to me at any time.”

He didn’t come here expecting Touko to tell him everything on his first try. But she’s visibly relieved by his offer. Kousuke is glad that she’s worried. It means she’s attentive. Takashi needs attention.

“He’s a very sweet boy,” Touko says, insists. She needs him to know that.

She wouldn’t need him to know that if everything was fine.

“I’m sure he is,” Kousuke soothes.

And then Touko turns. “Oh, Nyankichi! You’re finally up.” She gets up. “Let me get your breakfast.”

Kousuke knows exactly what he’ll see even before he turns. And there he is. Takashi’s talking cat, sitting on the kitchen floor and staring at him.

“Nyankichi?” Kousuke asks. “Is that your name, kitty cat?”

The cat is not amused. He doesn’t speak, but he definitely understands.

“Actually, it’s Nyanko-sensei. Takashi found him somewhere,” Touko says, amused, as she reaches into the fridge. “It was the first thing he asked us for, to keep him. Of course we said yes. But he’s such a funny kitty. He must have been someone’s pet. He’s very smart and he only eats people food.”

As if to prove her point, Touko fills a bowl with what must be leftovers from yesterday’s dinner. She puts it down on the floor and the cat happily gobbles it up. Touko pets him dotingly.

“Nyanko-sensei?” Kousuke echoes, fighting a smile. A surprisingly childish name for a boy Takashi’s age. Did the spirit choose it, when it possessed the cat? What kind of cat even is it? It’s somehow both cute and ugly, fluffy yet strangely unreal.

Maybe there is no cat at all. All of it is the spirit. And it’s living here. And Touko and Shigeru must have no idea.

Kousuke fights the urge to intervene. He didn’t come here to upend Takashi’s life, or reveal his secrets to his foster parents. He’s just concerned, after meeting the boy twice now. After hearing what happened with Kaname. After seeing the rips in his new clothes.

Takashi is afraid and in pain. He’s suffering. Kousuke can’t see that and not try to help. Especially when he sees so much of his own son in Takashi.

“I should be going,” Kousuke says, standing up. “But it was lovely to see you again, Touko-san. Give my best to Shigeru. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

“Of course,” Touko says, standing up. “And thank you for—“ She doesn’t finish, but gives him a complicated look, wary and needing and relieved.

She wants his help, needs it. But she isn’t ready to ask for it yet, isn’t sure she should. She’ll want to talk to Shigeru first, at the very least.

“Anytime,” Kousuke reminds her, with a gentle, understanding smile.

He gives the cat a meaningful look on the way out. He walks out of view of the house, and waits.

The cat walks over. “Follow me, priest,” he mutters, and then leads Kousuke further along to where they won’t be seen.

Kousuke wonders if he should be worried, following a strange spirit like this. For all his “soothing,” he’s never actually met a spirit, much less talked to one. He only knows they’re around because of how they affect Kaname.

The cat hops up onto a low wall, then faces him. “Talk,” he says.

“Is your name really Nyanko-sensei?” is what comes out of Kousuke’s mouth.

“It’s a glorious name,” declares Nyanko-sensei. “My servant chose it for me.”

“Your servant?” Kousuke asks. “You mean Takashi?” Is that what their relationship is? Master and servant? It would explain ‘sensei.’

“He’s mine,” Nyanko-sensei warns. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll pretend the past few days never happened. He doesn’t like it if I eat humans, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” There’s a dangerous gleam in the cat’s eyes.

“What are you?” Kousuke asks.

“Powerful,” Nyanko-sensei says, with a low resonance in his voice that feels dangerous.

But Kousuke isn’t deterred. “Are you hurting Takashi? Are you the one leaving rips in his clothes?”

“I’m the one keeping him alive,” Nyanko-sensei says, and means it. “Why are you here?”

“I believe Takashi needs help.”

Nyanko-sensei scoffs. “And what can you do, human?” He says human like it’s an insult.

“I don’t know,” Kousuke admits. “But my son is like Takashi. I know that— Their situation can be— Lonely and painful. The Fujiwaras don’t know?”

“Everyone knows,” Nyanko-sensei says, flatly. “They just don’t want to know.”

“I see,” Kousuke says. That’s true about many things. It feels like something as important as the spirit world should be different, but human nature is what it is. “Well, I want to know. And my son wants to know. So please let us try to help your servant.” He gives a respectful bow.

Nyanko-sensei gives him an imperious look. But he doesn’t refuse outright. He hesitates, like Touko hesitated.

Takashi’s situation must be worse than Kousuke thought.

“If you hurt him I’ll eat you,” Nyanko-sensei promises. And then he hops down from the wall and ambles back to the Fujiwara house.

Kousuke is fairly sure that Nyanko-sensei just gave him his conditional approval.

Chapter Text

”We took him for six months. Now it’s your turn.”

In Takashi’s nightmare, it’s years ago, and he’s being handed off from one distant family member to another. His left eye hurts under the bandage that covers it, swollen from a fight he got into at school. Some kids kept calling him a liar and he couldn’t take it anymore.

He shouldn’t have fought back. That was the last straw for the people he’s been living with. They’d finally had enough. And now he’s here, with some other people he’ll be living with, until they get sick of him, too.

The adults he’s with are talking about him, but he doesn’t want to hear them. He knows they’re calling him a liar, too, and a burden. He’s used to his guardians lamenting to each other about him. These two talk about leaving him at an orphanage, if they can do it without staining the family honor. They’re not the first.

They don’t care that he can hear them. Maybe him hearing is the point.

Takashi knows this is a memory and a nightmare, but the knowledge doesn’t help him break free of it. He knows what’s coming, but he can’t stop himself from walking to the front door of the house and looking up at the man lying on the ceiling. Trapped in the thoughts of his childhood, Takashi isn’t scared at first. It’s just another person to him. But the ceiling part is strange.

“Oh hey,” he says over his shoulder, to the man who is taking him in, even as his adult awareness silently screams at himself to stop, to shut up, to never say anything to anyone ever again. “There’s someone on your ceiling. I wonderer how he got up there?”

And then Takashi turns to the adults, and even as a child he already knows what he’ll see, after saying that. He already knows he’s made a mistake, made a display of himself, upset the people he’s going to live with for as long as they’ll tolerate him. Even before he had a chance to sit down and take off his shoes.

“Never mind,” he stammers, too little, too late. “It was just my imagination.”

The ceiling man isn’t real. He wants to believe that none of it is real, these things no one else can see. But it looks real. It feels real. And when the ceiling man’s head stretches down towards him on a long, long neck, Takashi can’t help but scream, making more of a display of himself, upsetting the adults even more.

“Do you hate us that much?” says the man who’s getting rid of him. He already hates Takashi, can’t stand the sight of him, and now this. “Is that why you make up these creepy stories?!”

The man hits him, a sharp cuff to the back of his head, and Takashi finally wakes up with a gasp. He breathes in something strong, overpowering, and opens his eyes to a looming face.

Takashi lashes out on pure instinct, smacking away the figure looming over him. His stick arms are powerless against humans, but somehow they can knock yokai for a loop. Like Reiko can, in the memories he gets of her from yokai when he gives back their names.

Names. Reiko. The Book. Nyanko-sensei.

“Oh, it’s you, Nyanko-sensei,” Takashi realizes, as his heart stops trying to thump right out of his chest. “Sorry.” Then he breathes in again and scrunches up his nose. “Ugh, you reek. Were you out drinking all night again?”

Takashi spent all afternoon and evening catching up with his schoolwork, and even went ahead a little just in case. Once he started nodding off at his desk, he peered out through the window into the darkness, saw no sign of his wayward bodyguard, and went to bed.

“Whee! We had a party!” Nyanko-sensei says, shameless as ever, too inebriated to be bothered by the smack. “They were all laying bets. That priest versus Reiko’s grandson.” He gives a drunken hiccup. “Don’t worry, I collected your winnings. And drank them.” He laughs, pleased with himself.

“I should have let him exorcise all of you,” Takashi grumbles. He lies back on his futon, half-wishing he could go back to sleep, and dreading that if he did, he’d inevitably be pulled into another nightmare.

In no mood for that, he gets up and gets dressed. Today is not going to be another day full of mistakes. He’s going to turn in all his homework and stay awake in class. He even considers leaving behind the Book of Friends, because he’s not going to return any more names, not going to get sucked into any more yokai business, not today.

He leaves Nyanko-sensei to snore the day away on his bedroom floor.

“Good morning,” Touko-san greets. The kitchen is as warm and cozy as she is. She already has breakfast waiting for him, and Takashi feels a fresh twinge of guilt when he sees the bento she’s assembling.

He smiles for her and sits down and eats. Most of the people he’s lived with preferred it when he didn’t eat much. A few would ‘forget’ to feed him at all. He’s tried to make his appetite as small as possible. But Touko-san loves to cook and she’s so genuinely happy when he eats everything she makes for him. So for weeks now he’s been forcing it all down no matter what.

He does have to admit his reflection looks a little less gaunt, lately. He just worries what will happen when he leaves here. He reminds himself to be grateful for what he has right now.

“Oh dear, look at those dark circles under your eyes,” Touko-san says, fretting.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Takashi says, cheerfully. He mentally kicks himself for forgetting to use his cover-up makeup this morning. He’ll dab some under his eyes on the way to school. Usually he only has to put it on for bruises and other obvious injuries, but Touko-san’s eyes are too sharp and observant. Takashi needs to be more careful or she’ll get upset, and then it will only be a matter of time until the Fujiwaras start looking for someone else to pass their burden to.

“You have bed head,” Touko-san says, fondly. She reaches out and smooths down his hair.

Her caring touch makes Takashi’s chest hurt.

He’s so close to being of age. If he can somehow stay here for these last few years, no one will ever have to be burdened with him ever again. But a few years feels impossible when he can’t remember living anywhere longer than six months. He has to be on his very best behavior.

He accepts her bento with a smile, then opens the front door. A massive horse head blocks his way. Somehow Takashi manages to not scream.

Misuzu. That giant yokai from Yatsuhara, whose name is in the Book.

“Natsume-dono,” Misuzu says, his booming voice resonating in Takashi’s bones. “I would like my name back.”

Takashi squirms past him and closes the front door behind him. “I’m sorry, I’m on my way to school,” he says, quietly. “I’ll give it back later.”

Misuzu gives a displeased rumble, but Takashi has to keep moving or he’ll be late. He leaves the horse yokai behind and hurries on. He gets to where he usually meets up with Nishimura and Kitamoto, but they must have gone on without him.

It’s not the first time they’ve missed each other. But he likes walking with them, so it’s disappointing. They treat him like he’s normal, even though they know he isn’t. Just being around them helps him feel calmer, less alone. It’s nice, having friends at school. He doesn’t know how long they’ll tolerate him, but he’s trying to cherish every moment.

Drunk Nyanko-sensei, noticeable shadows under his eyes, Misuzu coming to his front door, and now he’s missed walking with his friends. It’s not a great start to the day, but he’s still determined to get through it being completely normal.

And then he sees the kappa lying in the road and stops.

He should ignore it and keep moving. It’s none of his business. The kappa will be fine, probably, and if it isn’t then so what? Yokai eat each other all the time, just like animals do. Nyanko-sensei sometimes threatens to eat Takashi and get the Book from him that way. Some bodyguard he is, spending half the time drunk and the other half complaining that he doesn’t have the Book yet because Takashi is inconveniently alive.

“Ugh, water,” the kappa groans, pathetically.

Takashi glances at his watch and hates himself. Misuzu’s name return can wait, but if something really did happen to this kappa because of him— He sighs and takes out his water bottle, opens it and pours it all onto the kappa’s head.

The kappa looks up at him, confused, reviving.

“Bye,” Takashi says, and hurries off.

He barely gets to his desk before class starts, but he does get there, and he’s not even the last to arrive, as Sasada hurries in right after him. He spares a second to wonder what made her late, when she’s usually so punctual. Nishimura and Kitamoto greet him, and then Takashi puts everything he has into paying attention to his classes. To being normal. He can absolutely be normal for one day, at least while he’s at school.

But as lunchtime creeps closer, he thinks about his bento, and that makes him think about Tanuma-san at the shrine, and Tanuma, and everything that went wrong. Everything he’s been trying to ignore.

It’s going to be fine. He just has to do with Tanuma what he does with Nishimura and Kitamoto, what he does every day with the Fujiwaras. Smile and pretend everything’s fine. Because it is. It’s fine.

After missing their morning walk, Takashi is glad to sit with Nishimura and Kitamoto for lunch. He’s not avoiding Tanuma. He’s just eating a normal lunch with his normal friends.

They invited him to start eating with them after Takashi and Nishimura learned how to make paper cranes together last week. After Nyanko-sensei exorcised the yokai that had possessed Nishimura.

Takashi’s been keeping a close eye on Nishimura since all of that. But Nishimura doesn’t seem to remember any of it, aside from feeling strange for a week and then waking up in the hospital after passing out. Apparently his mom decided the whole thing was Nishimura acting out for attention. When Takashi heard that, he couldn’t suppress his sympathetic wince.

Nothing good comes from mixing the yokai and human worlds.

As Takashi and Nishimura and Kitamoto approach their classroom, Tanuma is waiting by the door. When he sees Takashi, he smiles and waves.

“Hey, it’s Tanuma,” Nishimura says to Takashi. “That’s the guy who was looking for you the other day.”

“Yes, we met,” Takashi says, cheerfully. “You can go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Oh, Natsume-kun,” Sasada says, appearing in the doorway and blocking the way. “You’re coming to tonight’s test of courage, right?”

Takashi had completely forgotten about that. He’d only signed up because they said they needed him to make up the numbers. “Do I have to go? I don’t really feel up to it.”

“I asked you to come because we didn’t have enough people,” Sasada says, upset. “Don’t be so anti-social. Or do you have something more important to do?”

“Test of courage?” Tanuma asks.

“It’s an annual haunted challenge at the old school building,” Nishimura says, excited. “So spooky! Natsume, you’re not scared of ghosts, are you?”

“No, I—“ Takashi starts, flustered.

“The old school building is going to be demolished next week,” Sasada says, staring at him with strange intensity. “So this year’s test of courage will be the last one. You have to come.”

“Hey, class rep, relax,” Kitamoto says. “We can get someone else. Tanuma, you just moved here. Come have some fun with us.”

“Well, I mean,” Tanuma says, uncertain. “I guess so? But I’m not very good with ghosts.”

“If you get partnered with a girl, she might hold your hand when she gets scared!” Nishimura tells him, enthusiastic.

“No!” Sasada says, alarmed. “Natsume, you said you’d come. We’ll be waiting.”

With that, Sasada marches back into the classroom, her word apparently final. Kitamoto and Nishimura shrug and head in, too.

“Sounds kinda fun,” Tanuma offers. He holds something out.

It’s the bento container and wrapping, from Takashi’s lunch yesterday. The one he gave to Tanuma-san.

“My dad passed along your apology,” Tanuma says. “The food was delicious. But you don’t have anything to apologize for. I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out after school today. But we can do that test of courage thing together, if you want? Or I’ll go so you can skip it. You look kinda tired.”

Takashi can’t quite make his mouth say any words. But he can’t let himself freeze up again like he did yesterday. “No, I— You don’t have to do that. Sasada’s right, I agreed to go.” She’s his class rep, upsetting her is definitely a bad idea if he wants to stay in Hitoyoshi.

Tanuma smiles, pleased. “Then I’ll see you tonight?” He holds out the bento container again, and Takashi takes it.

“Yes,” Takashi says, making a smile back at him. Right, yes. This is what he’s supposed to do. Because everything’s fine.

Another classmate rushes through the space between them and into the classroom.

“Gotta get back to my class,” Tanuma says. “Later, Natsume.”

“Later,” Takashi says. He watches Tanuma go, looks down at the two sets of bento containers and wrappings. At least he can return both of them to Touko-san today.

Despite his best efforts, Takashi can’t focus at all on his classes for the rest of the day. He walks home with Nishimura and Kitamoto, and when he splits off from them, he expects Nyanko-sensei to meet him. But yet again, his so-called bodyguard is nowhere to be found.

Instead he finds that same kappa lying on the road. Did it dry out again already? Takashi sighs and pours out his water on it. He shouldn’t have got involved with it in the first place.

“What the heck are you doing?” Takashi mutters, to himself as much as to the kappa.

“I was waiting to thank you,” the kappa says, perking up. “May I at least have your name?”

“Natsume,” Takashi says, despite himself.

“The Natsume?” the kappa gasps. It grabs his arm, delighted. “The famous Natsume Reiko with the amazing Book of Friends? You can have my name if you want it. Please let me serve you!”

“No!” Natsume says, pulling himself free and stepping back. “Leave me alone!” He doesn’t even bother to correct the yokai and tell it he’s not Reiko, he just runs away. The last thing he needs is more yokai invading his life.

So of course, when he gets home, he sees the Mid-Ranks lurking outside again. They run off before he can tell them to leave him alone, too. And then he sees something on the ground in front of the door.

It’s a gift, or more likely an offering. Fruits, fern heads, some yellow flowers, and two fish so fresh they’re flopping. Takashi quickly gathers it all up and brings it inside.

“I’m home,” he announces, and toes off his shoes as he tries to keep hold of the fish.

Touko-san is in the kitchen. “What’s this?” she says, surprised. One of the fish leaps out of Takashi’s arms and she somehow grabs it before it falls. “My goodness, where did you find all this?”

Takashi scrambles for an adequate lie. He can’t say he found it himself, it would sound like he cut school to go fishing. “A friend gave it to me.”

“A friend?” Touko-san says, visibly interested even as she wrangles both fish into a large bowl of water. “Who was it? We’ll have to thank them.”

Takashi can’t answer that, so he changes the subject. He puts down the rest of the offerings and pulls out the bento containers and wrappings, presents them to Touko-san.

“Oh, you found it? I’m so glad,” Touko-san says.

“Yes, um. I left it at school. Another friend found it. Tanuma.”

“So many friends,” Touko-san gently teases. “Tanuma? Kousuke-san’s son?”

“Kousuke-san?” Takashi asks, confused.

“The priest at Yatsuhara?” Touko-san says. “Such a kind man. He stopped by today.”

Takashi goes still. “He was here?” Misuzu and the Mid-Ranks and the kappa and now the priest? This is not good. This is very not good. “Why?”

“Just to say hello,” Touko-san says, oblivious to Takashi’s internal panic. “He likes to help the community. Shigeru and I went to the grand opening for the temple, he did such a wonderful job with it. That was right before we brought you home, and then things have been so busy we haven’t had a chance to go back. Perhaps we could all go together this weekend?”

“Um. I have plans this weekend,” Takashi lies.

“Ah, maybe next weekend, then,” Touko-san says. “I’m glad you’re settling in so well and making so many friends.”

She gives him a doting smile. It makes Takashi want to shrivel up in shame.

“I have homework,” Takashi says, and escapes up to his room.

Nyanko-sensei is there, perched by the window, and for once he’s sober and clear-eyed.

“He was here,” Takashi tells him. “Tanuma-san.” Kousuke must be his given name. Takashi was not planning on being around the priest long enough to learn his full name.

“He was,” Nyanko-sensei says. “We had a little chat.”

“What?” Takashi says, suddenly lightheaded. “Sensei, how could you—”

“He heard me talking, in Yatsuhara,” Nyanko-sensei reminds him. “I’ll eat him, if you want.”

“No!” Takashi says. This is Misuzu all over again. The stress is making his head hurt. “No one is getting eaten.”

If the priest knows about Nyanko-sensei, then— Tanuma probably knows about him, too. This is a disaster. Everything about today is a disaster.

And he still has that stupid test of courage thing tonight. If he skips it Sasada will never forgive him, and his entire existence here is already hanging by a thread. He has no choice but to go.

“Did he say what he wants?” Takashi asks, bleakly. Tanuma-san must not have said anything about yokai to Touko-san, at least not yet, or she wouldn’t have been so kind to him just now. Would a priest blackmail him? Nothing seems impossible right now.

“He asked for my permission to help you.”

“He what?” Takashi asks, confused.

“Don’t ask me how,” Nyanko-sensei says, apparently unimpressed by Tanuma-san’s offer. “Like he said before, he wants you to be friends with his son. Not sure what that’s supposed to do. I’m your bodyguard, what else do you need?”

Takashi doesn’t understand any of this. Doesn’t get why Tanuma-san would want himself or his son anywhere near Takashi after what happened at Yatsuhara. Takashi was so caught up in his hope that there was finally someone out there who shared the same world he did—

And Tanuma does share his world, sort of. And for a moment, talking to him, Takashi felt understood. And then—

And then he realized it didn’t matter. Any more than it mattered when a yokai pretended to be human, when he was little, and made him think he wasn’t alone. Even if Tanuma could see exactly what he sees, it still wouldn’t matter.

“You’re right,” Takashi says, calmly. “I don’t need anything else. You told him to go away, right?”

Tanuma and his father have to stay away from him. If they don’t, they’re going to get hurt. And that will be Takashi’s fault, for messing up in Yatsuhara, for messing up at school. They’ll hate him, and then everyone will hate him, and he’ll have to leave.

Nyanko-sensei gives him a long, considering look. “You don’t want human friends? And here I thought you didn’t favor yokai.”

“I don’t want anyone,” Takashi says. He doesn’t want yokai leaving offerings on his doorstep, doesn’t want them clamoring for his attention at all hours. He doesn’t want more humans to disappoint and upset.

He’s giving back the names in the Book of Friends because he’s the only one who can. And because every name he gives back means one less yokai intruding on his life, chasing him down, making a display that he has to scrounge up some lie about.

Takashi hates lying. He hates that everyone knows that’s what he is, a liar. He hates that everything in his life forces him to keep lying. It will only stop when he’s completely alone, because there will finally be no one left to lie to.

“I have to go to a school event tonight,” he says, tiredly. Now that he’s back in his room, the whole day is catching up with him. The whole week. “I need a nap. Don’t let me oversleep.”

“I’m not your alarm clock,” Nyanko-sensei grumbles. But he settles down to watch over Takashi anyway.

Takashi has just enough energy to roll out his futon and crawl under his blanket. He turns away from the windows, still full of sunlight, and trusts that Sensei will wake him up in time for dinner.

Chapter Text

For the third time in three days, when Kaname gets home from school, he finds his dad looking unsettled.

“What happened this time?” Kaname asks, and wonders what exactly the two of them are getting tangled up in, with Natsume.

“I talked with the cat,” Dad says. “And with Touko-san. They’re both worried about Takashi.”

“Touko-san knows about the talking cat?” Kaname asks, surprised. He hasn’t even seen this cat yet, or the Fujiwaras. But he has a sudden mental image of the three of them sighing to each other over what to do about Natsume.

“No, no.” Dad says. “I talked to them separately. She knows about Nyanko-sensei, but thinks he’s a normal cat. Well, normal-ish.”

“Nyanko-sensei?” Kaname asks, with a laugh. “What an embarrassing name.”

“Yes, well. He’s proud of it. And apparently the cat is Takashi’s master, somehow.”

“What?” Kaname says, laughing again but this time with a nervous edge.

“I wish I knew more,” Dad says. “The cat gave me his approval, I think. But the Fujiwaras might need some time.”

“Dad,” Kaname sighs. His dad has always liked getting involved with people’s lives, helping with difficulties. Honestly, it’s one of the things Kaname loves most about him. But he usually lets people come to him as a priest, and doesn’t go chasing after their foster parents and cat-masters.

Not that there’s ever been a cat-master before.

“How was school?” Dad asks, undeterred. Meaning, how was Natsume at school?

“I only saw him for a few minutes. I gave back the bento stuff. There’s a school event tonight, a bunch of us are doing some kind of test of courage? I’ll see him there.”

His dad grins, delighted. “A social event? How exciting!”

Kaname blushes. He doesn’t get involved with things like this, because he usually ends up having to back out, disappointing everyone including himself. But Natsume is surprisingly elusive. Kaname realizes he’s chasing after him, too. “It’s probably not a good idea though. It’s at an old school building they’re about to tear down. There’s probably going to be spirits.”

His dad frowns, seeing the problem. “Perhaps I could go there now, soothe the monsters for you?”

Kaname is tempted. But he’s almost an adult, he can’t expect his dad to go around purifying every place he wants to go. “No, I’ll be fine.” If he takes his migraine medication ahead of time, it helps a lot. He usually doesn’t get the chance, because he doesn’t know the spirits are close until it’s too late.

He’s probably going to need a refill soon, with Natsume around. Somehow that doesn’t bother him.

His dad put his hands on Kaname’s shoulders. “Ah, I’m so proud of you. I knew this place would be good for you. I’ll go start dinner, we don’t want you to be late for your first big social event.”

“Dad,” Kaname whines, blushing harder.

There’s a bounce in his dad’s step as he walks towards the kitchen. “I wonder if he’ll bring his cat.”

Kaname is one of the first to arrive at the old building. Sasada is already there, holding a portable lamp and a clipboard. When she sees him she looks annoyed — until he mentions that Natsume should be here soon, too. Then she turns eager, and starts looking around impatiently for Natsume. She barely pays attention to the other students, even though she’s the one who organized this whole trial of courage thing in the first place.

It seems like she’s only interested in Natsume. She needs him to be here. Could it have something to do with the spirits? Surely she’s heard the same rumors as everyone else. She’s in Natsume’s class, so she might even be the source of some of the rumors.

It might be hypocritical of him, but Kaname doesn’t like what Sasada is doing. She’s manipulating Natsume, forcing him to come here without telling him the real reason, whatever it is. Maybe it’s nothing bad. But if it’s something Natsume would agree to, why not just ask him? Why go through all this?

Minutes pass, and almost everyone is here, but there’s no sign of Natsume. Sasada looks ready to run to his house and drag him here. But then the last three arrive: Kitamoto, Nishimura, and Natsume.

The last four. Because Natsume is holding something in his arms. A weird calico cat with a big face and watchful green eyes. His dad was right, the spirit looks like more like a cartoon tanuki than an actual cat, with its round belly and head.

They did say he carries it everywhere when he’s not at school.

Several people whisper to each other about the cat, but then everyone just accepts it, like they accept everything weird about Natsume. Kaname’s starting to realize that might not be a bad thing.

Sasada immediately relaxes and starts organizing the group and leading everyone inside. Tanuma waves to Natsume and his friends and walks up to them.

“This should be fun,” Kaname says, smiling.

Natsume and the cat both stare at him.

Kitamoto gives Natsume a friendly slap on the back. “C’mon Natsume. If you get scared we’ll protect you.”

“Yeah, no big bad ghost is gonna get by us!” Nishimura says, while making scary ghost gestures.

Natsume smiles, and if Kaname didn’t know better he would think it was genuine. There are even happy crinkles beside Natsume’s eyes. “You’re right, let’s all have fun.”

The cat continues to stare at Kaname. It’s hard to tell, with how strong Natsume’s spirit-feeling is, but Kaname thinks he feels power coming from the cat, too. At least neither of them is giving him a headache yet, but that could be his migraine medication working.

Nyanko-sensei. Is Kaname really going to have to call him that?

“You have a cat, Natsume?” Kaname says, because by all rights he should be surprised by the cat’s existence. He reaches out to pet it. The cat gives him a warning growl, and Kaname pulls his hand back.

“Sorry, he, uh—” Natsume starts, and then visibly scrambles for an excuse. “He doesn’t like to be touched by strangers.”

Somehow the cat actually looks offended by that. He wriggles in Natsume’s arms until he gets free. Then he runs into the building.

“Sensei!” Natsume loudly whispers, and chases after him.

“Don’t worry, this is normal for Natsume,” Nishimura says, when he sees Kaname’s reaction. “He took a while to warm up to us, too.”

“He’s been asking about you all week,” Kitamoto adds.

“Natsume never asks about anyone,” Nishimura says. “Don’t give up on him yet.”

“But don’t try to touch the cat,” Kitamoto says.

“Yeah, definitely don’t touch the cat,” Nishimura agrees.

“No touching the cat, got it,” Kaname says.

The old building is about to be demolished. Kaname can see why. It’s neglected and run down. There’s broken tiles on the roof and signs of water damage. It must be barely safe enough for whatever approval Sasada got for this. The only illumination they have is the moon and the warm glow of Sasada’s lamp. It wouldn’t be a good test of courage if they had flashlights.

Once they’re all inside, they draw numbers. There’s one extra person than the official headcount of twenty-one, which sends a round of excited whispers through the crowd. Everyone is ready to believe that one of the group is a ghost.

“Stop accusing people,” someone says, annoyed.

“Stay calm, it just means someone didn’t sign up,” someone else says.

The numbers are used to pair everyone up. Kaname barely knows anyone here, and so he doesn’t know the girl he’s paired up with. Nishimura lucks out and gets Natsume.

Kaname glances over at Natsume. Natsume is holding his cat, and he’s stepped away from the crowd to whisper to it. But then the cat runs off again, disappearing into the darkness of the old building.

Maybe there really is a spirit here. Besides the cat, that is. Kaname almost wishes he hadn’t taken his migraine medication, because the stabbing pain he gets in his head is a reliable way to detect the presence of spirits. So far all he feels is Natsume and his cat.

As Natsume rejoins them, Sasada walks a few steps up the central staircase to address the crowd.

“This building has a legend,” Sasada begins, in a somber tone. “A long time ago, there was a god of good luck. He was fond of humans, and would disguise himself as a child to visit the nearby village. But a greedy merchant locked him up in his cellar to take all the luck for himself. Sure enough, the merchant’s profits increased. And in the dark dungeon, the god grew to resent people. He became an evil spirit!”

An excited murmur goes through the crowd.

“The merchant went bankrupt. The land itself became cursed and worthless. Many years later, they built this school on it. They say the god wanders the land to this very day, grieving over what he’s become. Be careful when you walk these halls!”

That riles everyone up, and they’re enjoying a good scare. But Kaname just feels unsettled. Is this why Sasada needs Natsume, because she thinks there’s an evil spirit here? Then why put everyone else in danger?

Natsume’s expression is difficult to read, especially in the gloom. He doesn’t look scared or excited. He must be too used to this sort of thing for a spooky story to rile him up. He doesn’t even want to be here.

“Hey,” Nishimura says, and holds out a number. “Trade you? You get Natsume, I get a cute girl.”

Kaname has never made a better trade.

Sasada sends off the first pair, then another. The test of courage is to make it all to the end of the second floor hall, write your name on the wall, then come back. No one’s hiding to jump out and scare them. It’s just a creepy old building and moonlight shadows.

The pairs are given enough time between them so they won’t run into each other. The third pair is sent off, and Kaname and Natsume step up to wait for their turn.

“Looks like you’re with me,” Kaname tells him, and smiles.

Natsume does not smile back.

“The others should be back by now,” someone says.

“We have to return the keys by nine thirty,” says another. “Keep going!”

As they walk into the darkness, Kaname sighs. He came here tonight because he wanted to be with Natsume and talk to him for more than a few minutes at a time. But Natsume is silent beside him.

Maybe Natsume will never warm up to him. Maybe Natsume doesn’t want to be his friend at all, despite what they can both see. Kaname isn’t very good at making friends. Maybe he should give up already, and try to talk his dad out of his meddling.

Maybe he should. But he’s not ready to give up just yet. And Nishimura and Kitamoto said he shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” Tanuma says.

His voice is loud in the silence. The only other noise is the creaking of the floorboards under their feet. He wonders where the other pairs are. Surely he should be able to hear them talking, or the creaks of their footsteps.

“Upset me?” Natsume asks.

“Trying to pet your cat,” Kaname says, figuring he can at least start there. “I should have asked first.”

“It’s all right,” Natsume says. He pauses as they start up the stairs, then says, “I’m sorry. Let’s forget about what we said before. About the shadows.”

“Forget?”

“I just want to be normal with you,” Natsume says, and there’s real feeling in his quiet voice. “I don’t want to put you in any danger.”

Danger? “Natsume, are you in danger?”

Natsume doesn’t answer. And then before either of them can say anything else, a chill goes up Kaname’s spine, and both of them stop short.

There’s a girl standing in the hallway, alone. Her back is to them. She feels wrong.

“Natsume,“ Tanuma starts, warning him.

And then she turns, it turns, and instead of a human face there’s a single huge glowing eye and a menacing grin.

A spirit!

That’s more than just a shadow or a half-seen shape. It’s an entire being! Kaname glances over but Natsume doesn’t look afraid, he looks determined. Natsume steps in front of Kaname to protect him.

But whatever he’s trying to do, it doesn’t stop the spirit from rushing forward. Kaname and Natsume both startle backwards and tumble down the stairs.

The fall knocks the air out of Kaname, leaves him gasping. And then the chills are back, stronger now, and a sharp pain pierces through his migraine medication. Something powerful is right here.

Kaname opens his eyes to a pair of feet wearing tall, one-toothed geta sandals. A white kimono robe drapes past them to the floor, and the moonlight through the windows makes it glow. They’re on the staircase platform between the two flights of steps, and Natsume is lying at the spirit’s feet, dazed.

“That face,” the spirit says. It has a closed paper umbrella over its head, with a ragged hole that exposes one menacing eye. It’s looking down at Natsume with interest. “No matter. I will not let anyone out of this building. I will not let you selfish humans take our home.” And then it reaches for Natsume.

And then it’s Kaname’s turn to fling himself in front of Natsume. “Leave him alone!” Kaname shouts at it, and braces himself as the spirit’s hand reaches out for him, instead.

“No!” Natsume says from behind him, coming out of his daze. He wraps his arms around Kaname as if to keep him from being taken.

Natsume and Tanuma's close call with Shigure-sama on the stairs of the old school building. Illustration by pip0h

“Natsume?!” Sasada calls, from below them.

When she starts up the stairs, the spirit turns. The menacing eye widens with alarm. With a startled sound, the spirit vanishes in a puff of smoke.

The piercing pain eases down to a dull throb. The spirit is gone, at least for now.

“Tanuma!” Natsume calls, an edge of panic in his voice. He lets Kaname go and they both sit up.

“I’m okay,” Kaname says, though he’s still figuring out of that’s true. “Ow.” Even aside from his new headache, that fall down the stairs is going to leave both of them with a lot of bruises.

Natsume starts to stand, and hisses in pain. But he swallows the pain and straightens up, and helps Kaname to his feet.

“Someone was up here with you,” Sasada says, her eyes wide. She stares at Natsume, glances at Kaname. “You saw him, didn’t you? I know you can see things.”

Natsume says nothing. He helps Kaname down the steps to the ground floor.

“I’ve been watching you,” Sasada says, undeterred. “You talk to thin air. You jump when there’s nothing there. I saw you this morning, pouring your water bottle on something invisible. Tell me what you see, and I—“ She falters, looking at Kaname. “We promise we won’t tell anyone.”

She glares at Kaname, trying to force him to go along with her. Then she stares at Natsume again, determined.

And Natsume— Relaxes. Closes up, like he did the other day, after telling Kaname what he can see. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, with utter calm.

Sasada clearly didn’t expect this. “You don’t care if I tell everyone?!”

“I don’t care what you say about me,” Natsume says, icily. “But I won’t forgive you if you cause problems for the people I’m living with.”

For a moment, Sasada looks ashamed and confused, and it seems like she’s going to give up. But then she turns angry. “But I need your help! I know you can see them! Admit it!”

“Nothing was here,” Kaname says, intervening. “And that’s what I’ll tell everyone.”

“Tanuma,” Natsume breathes, surprised.

“I don’t know what all this is about,” Kaname continues, the stress of the evening pushing the words out of him. “But we’re leaving.”

Kaname grabs Natsume’s hand and heads for the exit.

“Tanuma!” Natsume stammers, stumbling after him.

Kaname blushes in the darkness, not sure what’s come over him. He’s never been so forceful with anyone. They reach the door, and he lets go of Natsume’s hand, but still feels the ghost of his touch.

They try to leave, but the doors are locked. So are the windows. They try another door, another. With all the dry rot, they should be able to force their way out, but every exit is as solid as a brick wall.

“We’re trapped,” says an unfamiliar voice. It sounds like an old man, but when Kaname turns to look, there’s no one there. There’s only—

Natsume’s cat.

“Sensei!” Natsume hisses, panicked, and steps in front of the cat to hide it.

“Oh please,” the cat says. “He already knows.” He puts a paw on the door they were trying to open. “And we have bigger things to worry about. There’s a kekkai around this building. An invisible barrier. It also makes yokai visible to normal humans.” The cat squints at Kaname. “Though this one isn’t exactly normal.”

“Neither are you, Ponta,” Kaname says, giving the cat a nickname he can say without feeling like a five year old. Ponta’s a good name for a tanuki-looking cat like him.

“Ponta!?” the cat protests. “I’m Nyanko-sensei to you!”

“Keep it down,” Natsume chides. He turns to Kaname. “How did you know?”

“Uh, my dad told me,” Kaname admits. “Sorry I didn’t say, I just— Wanted to let you tell me yourself.” He didn’t want to be like Sasada, bullying the truth out of Natsume. Or even like his dad, with his well-intentioned meddling. He still wants to be friends with Natsume, assuming he hasn’t already made that impossible.

“It’s fine,” Natsume says, already turning back to Ponta. “How do we get out of here?”

“Where’s everyone else?” Kaname asks. The building feels even emptier than before, somehow. Surely they’d have run into someone else by now, there’s nineteen other people here. It’s nowhere near nine thirty yet.

“Sasada,” Natsume says, worried. “We have to go back.”

“She forced you to come here for this,” Kaname tells him. “Something about this spirit. Yokai,” he adds, using the term Ponta used, which seems to be the proper term for whatever it is that’s trapped them here.

“She’s in danger,” Natsume insists. “And so is everyone else.” He looks so determined, so different than he normally is, that it’s shocking.

When Kaname went looking for Natsume a few days ago, Nishimura said Natsume is hard to find sometimes because he doesn’t have a presence. He’s passive and calm and sleepy, at least when he isn’t being frightened by invisible things and running for his life.

But here, in the middle of real danger, Natsume is vibrant. Even the spirit-feeling coming off him is stronger, like it’s been woken up by the presence of these yokai.

He makes Kaname feel vibrant, too, despite his headache and bruises. Kaname looks at Natsume and feels a strange sense of awe, but also the urge to protect Natsume as much as he possibly can.

He doesn’t know what to do with all these sudden feelings. He needs to stay focused or they’re going to end up taken like everyone else.

“You protect him, right?” he says to Ponta. “So go protect him. Stop this yokai.”

“As if a weakling like you could tell me what to do,” Ponta says, arrogantly.

“Please don’t fight,” Natsume says, alarmed. He turns to Ponta. “Sensei, please. Find us an exit, or anything that might help us. And don’t let anyone see you.”

“Hmph,” Ponta says. “Fine.” And then there a puff of smoke, just like with the other yokai. But after the cat disappears, there’s a girl standing there. She’s wearing a school uniform and has long red hair. “Now they won’t see me,” says the girl.

“Reiko?!” Natsume says, surprised. “Wait are— Are you a girl?!”

“Of course not, idiot,” the girl says. The girl turns to Kaname and smirks at him. Her green eyes look very familiar.

“P-Ponta?” Kaname stammers, realizing.

The girl chuckles, then saunters off down the dark hallway.

Kaname can’t believe what he just saw. He thought he was used to strange things, but this—

But this isn’t new to Natsume. He’s not unaffected, he’s scared and worried. But he’s not confused. If anything, all this strangeness is steadying him. At school he looks like a slight breeze could knock him over, but here—

“Let’s go find the others,” Natsume says. They start heading back to the starting point.

Natsume might be in his element, but the silent gloom is creeping Kaname out. Knowing they’re trapped here with these yokai, actual beings that mean them harm—

He’s been aware of the spirits his whole life. He’s felt them, glimpsed them, but never seen them fully, never talked to them. And now he’s met three yokai. Is it three? What is Ponta?

“Is he— Uh, she— Your cat— A yokai too?” Kaname asks. When Natsume doesn’t answer, he keeps asking. “You didn’t know it could do that? Become a person?”

“No,” Natsume admits.

“Oh,” Kaname says. Maybe some of this is new to Natsume, too. “I guess you two haven’t known each other long? I heard you only got a cat a few weeks ago.”

Natsume stops, and then Kaname stops.

“Is something wrong?” Kaname asks, looking around for another yokai.

“What do you want?” Natsume asks, bluntly. Then he closes up like he did with Sasada. Like he did at school. “I’m sorry. Let’s keep going.”

Natsume starts walking again, but Kaname puts a hand on his shoulder and stops him. Then he lets go, feeling like touching Natsume was too bold. “I just want to get to know you. You can ask me questions too, whatever you want. I want us to be friends.” Kaname isn’t usually this direct, but it feels like if he isn’t, Natsume will slip away from him again.

“Why?” Natsume asks, blunt again.

Kaname stares at Natsume, baffled. He’s never met anyone so confusing.

Then Natsume softens. “You’re very kind, Tanuma. Thank you for what you said before, with Sasada. But I don’t want you or your father to get hurt.”

There’s a serious look in Natsume’s eyes that say he means it. And within that, a bottomless well of his own hurt, and an equally bottomless resignation.

It’s awful. Is this what his dad saw, that made him want to help Natsume so much? Now he understands. But what can they even do? Natsume doesn’t seem to want their help. And nothing’s going to help if they can’t get out of here and get away from these yokai.

Natsume turns away and starts walking again, and Kaname follows.

“Do you think he can get us out of here?” Kaname asks, needing to fill the silence. “Ponta?”

“Probably,” Natsume says.

‘Probably’ does not inspire confidence. Kaname thinks over everything that’s happened, trying to figure all this out. “That yokai on the stairs. I think it ran away because of Sasada. It was going to grab us and then it saw her.”

Natsume doesn’t answer, but he looks less resigned and more thoughtful.

Kaname keeps going.

“Maybe that story she told us is true,” he suggests. “About the god of luck that was trapped and turned evil. Does that kind of thing really happen?”

“Maybe,” Natsume says.

Kaname takes that as a yes. But even if that umbrella yokai is the luck god, there was also the one-eyed yokai on the second floor. Kaname’s senses aren’t good enough to tell if there’s more of them lurking. Natsume doesn’t seem to see any either right now. But it’s a creepy old building. Kaname wouldn’t be surprised if it’s full of yokai.

That umbrella yokai felt very powerful. Like Natsume and Ponta feel powerful, except the umbrella yokai’s power felt unsettling and wrong. It could be evil. It’s disturbing to think that feeling means evil, when Kaname has felt it in so many places his whole life.

The world must be a much more dangerous place than he ever thought. And if Natsume can fully see yokai, and he runs into them at school and everywhere else just as Kaname does, then it’s no wonder he doesn’t want anyone to get close to him. To be pulled into his world.

Still. Even though Kaname isn’t exactly in the same situation, he’s excited to finally find someone else who perceives the spirit world. And it’s someone his own age, in his school! Kaname doesn’t understand why Natsume isn’t at least a little excited, too. He asked what Kaname wants from him, as if he’d want anything but friendship, to feel a little less lonely in his own strange existence. Doesn’t Natsume want that, too?

They’re almost at the starting point. When they left, just minutes ago, more than a dozen people were there, whispering and giggling to each other, relishing the spooky atmosphere. Three pairs had already gone ahead. The first pair should already be back.

The lamp is still there on the window sill, giving out warm, flickering light. But aside from that, the starting point is completely empty.

A shiver runs up Kaname’s spine. He hurries over to a window and looks out at the area outside, where everyone had gathered together before the trial of courage started. It’s empty, too. If the others left the building, they would have taken the lamp with them, surely. They would have waited outside for everyone who went on their trial.

“They’re gone,” he says, hearing the shock in his own voice. “It took them?” Like the two of them were almost taken.

Natsume’s expression is grim.

And then Kaname sees something move in the corner of his vision. Another yokai? He and Natsume both turn to face the figure, braced for another attack.

Sasada stares back at them.

Chapter Text

“Where is everyone?” Sasada asks, her eyes wide with fear as she looks around the empty starting point.

Takashi strains for an excuse. This whole trial of courage situation has spiraled out of control. He has to figure out how to stop this yokai and save the other students. Save Kitamoto and Nishimura. He can’t let them be hurt, can’t let another yokai hurt Nishimura. And he definitely can’t tell Sasada—

“They’re gone,” Tanuma says. “Your luck god took them.”

Takashi swallows down a scream. It doesn’t matter if Sasada suspects the truth, doesn’t matter if she’s been planning this, stalking him, watching him when he thought he was safely alone. He’s dealt with stalkers before, human and yokai. And the one thing he can absolutely never do with the human ones is tell them that they’re right.

“Why did you bring us here?” Tanuma continues, and takes a step between Takashi and Sasada, like he did with the umbrella yokai. Protective. “Are you working with that thing? Is this some kind of— Weird human sacrifice?!”

“What?!” Sasada gasps, horrified. “Of course not! I wasn’t even sure he was real!”

“I don’t believe you,” Tanuma challenges.

“It’s the truth,” Sasada says. She looks past Tanuma to Takashi. “I’m sorry about before. I never meant to threaten you like that. I just need your help.”

“Help with what?” Tanuma says.

“I don’t know if he is a luck god,” Sasada admits. “I wasn’t even sure if he was a spirit at all. I just—“ She trails off, looks sad, then resolved. “I did the trial of courage here last year. But I hate spooky stuff, I was so scared. I ran through the whole building crying and screaming. And when I got home— I realized I’d lost something important. I had to find it. So I came back. Searched alone in the dark. I was terrified. And then— Someone else was here.”

Sasada’s expression softens, turns fond. “He was strange. Dressed like a student, but he had a bucket on his head. Maybe he was being hazed. But he found it for me.” She takes something out of her pocket, holds it out to them. It’s a small fabric bag, a homemade omamori, a lucky charm. “He held it for me out on the end of a stick. And when I asked him why, he said it was because he was unclean.”

“Unclean?” Tanuma asks.

“I was confused,” Sasada admits. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I searched the whole school, but I couldn’t find anyone who sounded like him. So I started to wonder if maybe he was a ghost.” She gives a self-effacing smile, then looks at Takashi intensely. “I heard the stories. About the luck god. About you. I came here every day and called for him, but he never answered. Everyone said you could see ghosts, so I thought maybe you could find him for me. I tried to talk to you, but— And then the demolition was coming up. This is my last chance.”

She turns distressed again. “I never dreamed he would hurt anyone. He was kind to me.” She holds out the omamori again. “My mother made this for me before she died. I just want to thank him properly.”

Tanuma visibly softens, and Takashi feels sympathy for Sasada, too. Nishimura told him about her when he told Takashi all sorts of things about his new town and school and classmates. Sasada’s mother died a few years ago, then her father remarried, but then he died, too. So now she’s living with her stepfamily. With strangers.

He wants to reassure her. To help her find the yokai so she can thank him. But if he does, he might as well start packing. If this was anywhere else, if he was staying with any of the other people who’ve housed him, it wouldn’t matter. He would accept his fate and help her. But he wants to stay here.

“Then we’ll find him,” Tanuma says, bravely. “And we’ll find everyone else. I think he’s upset about the demolition.”

“Then you saw him?” Sasada says, looking at Tanuma with awe and hope. “You can see spirits?”

“You saw him too, didn’t you?” Tanuma points out. “It must be something about this place. You can feel it, right?”

“Yeah,” Sasada admits. She looks back into the dark hallway. “Did you try the doors?”

“And the windows,” Tanuma says.

“He isn’t evil,” Sasada insists. “It wasn’t his fault that merchant hurt him. And now he’s losing his home.”

“Let’s go,” Takashi says. He takes the lamp and starts forward into the darkness, and Tanuma and Sasada follow close behind. “The others probably left. If anyone’s still here, we’ll find them on our way out.”

Somehow the lamp only makes the building darker. Even the moonlight is dim, obscured behind clouds.

They start checking the first floor, room by room. Sasada even looks inside the closets, in case someone is hiding in them, scared. She must have been terrified coming back here, after last year scared her so much. But she came back anyway, trying to thank this yokai she barely met.

They don’t find any humans, but they’re not alone here. Yokai are lurking in the shadows, and for once, Takashi isn’t the only one who knows it. They all jump at the same noises, the same glimpses of strange shapes in the darkness. Tanuma and Sasada aren’t reacting to what he reacts to. They’re feeling it themselves, seeing it with their own eyes. Because of the kekkai around the building? Because they’re both sensitive to spirits, too?

They head up to the second floor, and Takashi braces himself, watching for the one-eyed yokai that attacked them before. He won’t be surprised again, won’t let them hurt Sasada and Tanuma. He wonders where Nyanko-sensei is. Maybe his so-called bodyguard found a way out and took it. He keeps lamenting that a strong enough yokai hasn’t eaten Takashi yet. Maybe this is the opportunity he’s been waiting for.

Takashi reaches back, under his shirt, and touches the waist pack beneath it. Feels the shape of the Book inside.

It doesn’t matter where Nyanko-sensei went. Takashi’s survived this long without help. He’s never met an evil god before, but it can’t be any worse than the countless other yokai who’ve chased and tormented him his whole life. At least this one has a soft spot for Sasada. Maybe he can use that. If she can convince him to let everyone go—

Something skitters right past their feet, and Sasada yelps and grabs onto Tanuma. Tanuma’s startled, but moves to protect her, like he protected Takashi earlier. The sight bothers Takashi, somehow, but he pushes the feeling away. At least with Tanuma here, Sasada isn’t leaping at Takashi instead. He hates being grabbed.

At first he thinks the shiver that goes through him is a reaction to his own thoughts. But then Tanuma and Sasada freeze up, too. Tanuma winces and grabs at his head.

Something laughs in the darkness. The one-eyed yokai? Takashi yelps as something touches his hand, knocks the lamp away. The lamp crashes to the floor and winks out, and darkness swarms in. Takashi lashes out with his fist, swinging wildly, hitting nothing. He hears cries in the darkness.

“Tanuma!” he calls out. “Sasada!”

Something grabs him by the back of his shirt, yanks him off his feet. Takashi flails, then as his eyes adjust, he sees huge teeth looming over him. He freezes up before he recognizes Nyanko-sensei’s true form, the huge white wolf barely fitting into the room he pulled Takashi into.

“Time to go,” Nyanko-sensei tells him. “The kekkai is strong, but I can break it.”

“But everyone else—“ Takashi protests. He can’t just leave. Tanuma and Sasada— Nishimura and Kitamoto—

“Those small fry are nothing,” Nyanko-sensei says. “But the leader’s a major threat. You want to stay alive? Get on my back, now.”

They haven’t known each other long, but it’s still worrying to see Nyanko-sensei actually scared.

“Natsume!” Sasada calls, from the hallway. “Tanuma! Natsume!”

Nyanko-sensei gives an annoyed growl, then with a poof, he transforms back into his new Reiko form. Takashi still can’t believe Sensei can turn into her. It’s one thing to see his grandmother in memories, but this—

“I’m here!” Takashi calls, and Sasada rushes in.

“Where’s Tanuma?” Sasada says, urgent. “Something attacked us. And then you were both gone. I thought—“

And then she sees Sensei. And stops.

“Who are you?” Sasada asks, surprised.

For all that Takashi has to lie all the time, he wishes he was better at it. “Tanuma’s friend,” is the best he can muster. “She came late. She’s trapped too.”

Sasada looks at Sensei, unsure. But to Takashi’s relief, she accepts the lie. “Have you seen anyone else?” she asks Sensei.

“Where’s Tanuma?” Takashi asks, even though he already knows the answer. He goes out in the hall, looks into the nearby rooms. Dread knots in his stomach.

If Sensei hadn’t pulled him away—

Sensei and Sasada walk over, and Takashi glares at him. “Help us find him,” he demands.

“They’re on the roof,” Sensei says, unbothered.

“The roof?” Sasada says. She turns and runs off down the hall. Takashi chases after her, not caring if Sensei follows.

Tanuma.

He has to save Tanuma. Tanuma only came here because of him. If anything happens—

Sasada pushes at the door to the roof, and it opens. She rushes through, and Takashi follows, steps out onto the roof.

All the missing students are splayed out on the roof, dead.

It’s too late.

Takashi can’t breathe. He goes cold all over, thinking he’ll never walk to school with Kitamoto and Nishimura again, never eat lunch with them or hang out with them after school. They were teaching him how to ride a bike.

And Tanuma—

Tanuma tried to protect him. Wanted to get to know him, to be friends. Chased him here because Takashi was too much of a coward to just—

“They’re alive!” Sasada cries out, relieved. She’s bending over one of the girls. “Natsume, they’re alive!” She shakes the girl, but the girl doesn’t stir. “Why won’t they wake up?”

Takashi’s heart stutters back to life. They’re alive.

It’s not too late.

“I know you’re here!” he shouts at the air. “Let them go!”

A glowing, eerie mist spreads out over the roof, covering the sleeping students. Sasada stands up, steps back until she’s beside Takashi.

And then there he is, forming out of the mist. The umbrella yokai, the luck god turned evil by human greed and cruelty. Takashi can feel his dark power, even stronger now than it was when they met on the stairs.

But that’s not all he feels. He wasn’t sure before, there was too much going on. But the Book of Friends is warm against Takashi’s back, responding to the presence of this yokai.

His Name is in the Book. It wasn’t just that merchant who hurt the luck god, it was Reiko, too. She tricked him and took his Name, bound his very being to the Book. What was his grandmother, that she did such things?

“Please let them go!” Sasada begs.

“Never,” the god declares. “I hate humans! You turned me into this monstrosity.”

“I know you’re angry,” Sasada starts.

“You know nothing!” the god snarls. “You mock me and try to steal my home! I will see you suffer. I will watch as your parents weep and mourn.”

“I don’t have any parents,” Sasada says, angry and pleading. “They’re gone! This is all I have left!” She holds out the omamori. “You gave this back to me. You helped me. I just wanted to see you again. To thank you and tell you that— You’re wrong! You’re not unclean!”

“You know nothing,” the god says again. But his anger is easing.

“You helped me when I needed it most,” Sasada says. “No matter what happened to you, I know you have a kind soul. I’m sorry about your home. I don’t want you to lose it. I want you to stay. I want to see you again. I came here every day, just to see you.”

Every day. Takashi can’t understand why she cares about this yokai so much, why she’s been chasing after him for a whole year. Grief from the loss of her parents?

But then he’s never understood humans. What they want. What makes them care about each other. If he knew what made them happy, he would do it. But he’s never figured it out.

At least he knows what makes yokai happy. He reaches back to open his waist pack.

“You should have left me alone,” the god warns, and reaches for them.

The eerie mist rises up around them. It sinks into them, pulls them down. Sasada’s eyes roll back and she falls down, trapped with the other students.

Takashi falls to his knees as he fights against the pull. His arms hang limp at his sides, already asleep. He didn’t reach the Book in time.

“That’s enough.” Sensei steps out onto the roof, still in Reiko form. “I beat you once before. Don’t make me beat you again.”

“Natsume-dono,” the god snarls. “If you have the Book, then command me.”

“I won’t command you,” Takashi tells the god. He hated having to command Misuzu to stop him from eating Tanuma-san. He doesn’t ever want to do it again. “I’m giving you back your Name.”

The god looks at Takashi, then back at Sensei, confused. “An imposter. I know my true master.” He turns back to Takashi.

“My grandmother died a long time ago,” Takashi says. He’s only been at these Name returns for a few weeks and already he has a rote speech for the yokai who always think he’s Reiko. “I’m her grandson. And I’m freeing you from the Book, and from whatever that merchant did to you.”

He doesn’t know if he can actually do anything more than the Name, the power of the Book is something he barely understands. But he has to try. No matter what this god says about wanting to stay in this derelict building, it’s not a home. Takashi knows when a place is not a home.

“I don’t need liberation!” the god declares. The umbrella fades away, revealing a boy his own age. Ash-blond hair hangs over his face, exposing only one eye, just as the umbrella did. “I no longer need that defiled Name! You should have burned it!”

Takashi gasps. Every Name in the Book is bound to the life of its yokai. To destroy one means destroying both.

The blue glow brightens, and the whole building starts to tremble as the god’s power grips it. An oppressive force pressing in on him, suffocating. It feels like the god is trying to die and take everything with him.

“Please stop!” Sasada cries, pushing herself up. She’s holding the omamori tight in her hand, and somehow it’s pushing away the mist. “You’re not unclean! I know it! Your kindness gives me courage every day!”

And then in a rush, she staggers forward, and presses the omamori into the god’s hand.

The god cries out. The oppressive grip releases Takashi and feeling rushes back into his body. He pulls out the Book and opens it and calls out, “One who would protect me, show me your Name!”

A sudden wind rushes up around him as the pages of the Book flip, trying to find the match for the image of the god that Takashi holds in his thoughts. And then a single page stands up straight. He rips it out, tucks the Book under his arm, folds the page, bites it. Claps his hands together and blows the Name out of the page. As the ink lifts into the air, the Name resounds in Takashi’s head.

“Shigure-sama.”

The ink dives into Shigure-sama’s forehead. And then in return, memories stream into Takashi’s head, taking him over.

His vision goes black. He is trapped in darkness, never ending. He is betrayed, grieving, angry. He has been alone for so very long. In the memory of darkness are endless other memories of darkness, suffocating and oppressive.

He once brought luck and happiness to humans. He loved them and they loved him back. And then human cruelty took everything away forever. Despair has settled deep inside his bones.

The glimmer of Takashi’s own awareness expects Reiko to appear next. To see the memory of her confronting Shigure-sama and tricking him into signing over his Name. But instead, he hears Sasada’s voice calling to him.

“Where are you? Please come out!”

The real Sasada? A memory?

“I really want to thank you!” Sasada calls.

Takashi’s own awareness is smothered again by Shigure-sama’s. He feels a rush of anger at her for daring to speak to him. For coming back to the old building day after day. She’s a nuisance. He only helped her so she would leave him alone.

Such a strange creature. She was so scared that night, as she walked through his empty halls, searching. So bright with bravery despite her fear.

He feels a pang of unwanted fondness, and it hurts. It hurts!

She can never see him again. She would fear him if she had any sense. If she touched him, he would defile her as he has been defiled.

“Please!” Sasada calls. “I just want to see you, just once!”

Just once.

And that’s the worst part of all. If he lets her see the truth of him, she’ll leave him. He’ll be alone in the dark again. But if he doesn’t come out, she’ll keep coming back.

He can hold on to the brightness of her for a little longer, if he stays deep in the shadows.

Shigure-sama’s sad yearning fills Takashi to the brim, then spills out of him and away.

The memory ends. But before his connection to Shigure-sama fades, he sees through the god’s eyes as he reaches out to Sasada at last, and rests his hand on her head.

A pure touch. Just once.

“Goodbye,” Shigure-sama tells her. He’s holding her omamori in his other hand. He takes it with him as he fades away. “And thank you.”

When Takashi opens his own eyes again, he feels like an elephant stepped on his chest. Returning Names always takes a lot out of him, but he’s never returned one to a being this powerful before.

All the other students are awake. They’re alive, unharmed. Relief rushes through him.

A face moves into view. Tanuma.

“Tanuma,” Takashi starts, somehow even more relieved. He tries to sit up but can’t.

“Easy,” Tanuma soothes. “Everything’s okay.”

And then reality hits. Sasada saw him return a Name.

This is Yatsuhara all over again. If his life here wasn’t over before, it is now. Has she already told everyone? Did the others wake up and see Shigure-sama, too? Will he even have time to pack his few belongings before the Fujiwaras learn the truth? Maybe if he runs home now. But even standing feels like too much effort.

Calmness falls over him, like it so often does. If they send him to the orphanage, he’ll be all right. He still has Sensei and the Book. It won’t be like the last time he was there. He won’t let anyone else get hurt. And if he has to leave there, too, then—

“Hey, is Natsume awake?” Nishimura says. He walks over and crouches down. “What a crazy night! Sasada said there was some kind of gas leak. She and Tanuma’s friend had to drag everyone out here for fresh air.”

“Gas leak?” Takashi echoes, as his brain tries to shift down from desperate panic.

“Yeah,” Kitamoto says, coming into view beside Nishimura. “When we all went to write our names on the wall, we passed out once we got there. The roof was the closest exit.”

“Oh,” Takashi says.

She didn’t tell anyone. No one else saw.

“I guess you got hit harder than everyone else because of your anemia,” Nishimura says.

Takashi feels his waist pack against his lower back, and the hard edges of the Book inside it. Sensei must have put it back for him. Or, disturbingly, maybe Sasada or even Tanuma. He’s afraid to ask. Not that he can, with so many people around.

“Everyone’s okay,” Tanuma adds. “My friend went to get help.”

“Our parents are gonna freak out,” Nishimura says, lamenting and excited.

As the emergency services arrive, there is indeed a great deal of freaking out. Tanuma helps Takashi down the stairs, and they pass an emergency crew working on a broken gas pipe that’s somehow been pulled out of the wall. Sensei, Takashi realizes.

Once they’re out of the building, they’re swarmed with EMTs and distraught parents, and even more distraught school faculty. But aside from Takashi and Tanuma, with their bruises from falling down the stairs, all of the students are physically fine.

As if summoned, Sasada makes her way through the crowd towards him. And she’s holding Nyanko-sensei.

“Kitamoto found your cat,” she says, relieved. “I was worried he went near the gas, but he seems fine.”

Takashi can’t believe that Nyanko-sensei is letting Sasada hold him. At least it means Sasada doesn’t know he was Reiko tonight. Once the EMT is done, Sasada hands Nyanko-sensei over, and Takashi holds him close.

Tanuma-san arrives, and he and Tanuma give each other a long hug. Takashi’s grip on Nyanko-sensei tightens, but then Nyanko-sensei wriggles in protest, so he loosens it again.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Tanuma-san says, looking at his son with so much care. And Tanuma looks back at his father with so much care, too.

Takashi looks away, ashamed. He doesn’t deserve to be part of their happy reunion, even from afar.

It doesn’t help that Shigure-sama’s memories are still fresh in his mind. The god was trapped in darkness for so long, and sick with despair. Takashi feels defiled himself now. When he was touched by Tanuma, then by an EMT, it felt like he was contaminating them. He needs to shower for a week, and even that might not be enough to get the unclean out from under his skin.

At least Nyanko-sensei feels safe. The power coming off him is always reassuringly pure. It’s why Takashi trusted him from the moment they met, despite everything else.

He notices Tanuma-san staring at him. And then the Fujiwaras arrive.

“Takashi-kun!” Touko-san says, full of worry. “We came as fast as we could. Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

She reaches for him, like she did that morning. But he can’t help but flinch away, afraid he’ll defile her.

She pulls her hand back. He regrets the flinch, but it’s too late. In his mind, he adds one more to his tally of mistakes. How many will be too many, with them? Everyone’s limit is different. Some people are done with him before he even walks through the door.

“I’m fine,” Takashi says, smiling for her and Shigeru-san. “Everyone is okay now. Sasada was amazing, she got everyone to safety right away. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“We’re not upset,” Shiguru-san says, gentle as always. “It was a gas leak?”

“Apparently,” Tanuma-san says, walking over.

“Oh, Kousuke-san!” Touko-san says, glad to see him. “Is Kaname-kun all right?”

“Just bruised,” Tanuma says. “When we passed out, we, ah, fell down a few steps.”

Takashi wishes he could leap up and cover Tanuma’s mouth ten seconds ago.

“Fell down?” Shigeru-san says, concerned. “Did you hit your head?” He reaches out, and this time Takashi manages to not flinch away.

“The EMT said I’m fine,” Takashi says, holding his smile like a lifeline. The Fujiwaras already had to put up with him being in the hospital for a week, after his fall off that cliff. And several weeks more of rest and doctor visits. He still can’t believe they didn’t just turn around and go home, instead of asking him to live with them. “I just need to rest. I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”

“Of course,” Shigeru-san soothes. But then he looks around, and sees the EMTs. “You stay with him, I’ll be right back.”

Takashi grits his teeth. This is not going well.

“You should stay home tomorrow and rest,” Touko-san tells him.

“I’m all right,” Takashi protests. He’s gone to school in far worse shape than this. He has to keep his grades up.

“You’re staying home, too,” Tanuma-san tells Tanuma.

“Fine by me,” Tanuma says, rubbing his head.

“I thought you took your migraine medication?” Tanuma-san says.

“Yeah, I got a breakthrough,” Tanuma says.

“You get migraines, Kaname-kun?” Touko-san asks, concerned. “Oh, I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Fujiwara Touko, and my husband is Shigeru. We’re Takashi’s foster parents.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Tanuma says, and his smile seems genuine, if tired. “I’ll be all right. Just have to sleep it off.”

“Both you boys need plenty of rest,” Touko-san declares. “And warm food. Perhaps I could make you some soup, and we can bring it by tomorrow?”

“Thank you, Touko-san,” Tanuma-san says, grateful.

Another parent arrives. She goes right to Sasada and hugs her. It must be her stepmother. Sasada hugs her back, then bursts into tears.

Sasada’s stepmother might not be related by blood, but she does seem to care.

Takashi is glad for her. Especially now that her omamori is gone. He remembers feeling her omamori in Shigure-sama’s hand. A blessed thing. It should have hurt the god, but it didn’t.

Despite the painful memories Shigure-sama left behind, the luck god was no longer unclean when he left. Somehow between the gift of Sasada’s omamori and his returned Name, he found peace.

Takashi can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He shoves it down with everything else he shouldn’t feel.

Shigeru-san returns with papers from the EMT. He hands one set to Tanuma-san and the other to Touko-san.

“Instructions for the boys,” Shigeru-san explains. “They should be fine with some rest, but we should keep an eye out for signs of concussion. Takashi already had a fall recently, so we’ll need to take him to his doctor, just in case.”

No. Takashi was sure he could convince them that he’s fine. Now they have to go through the trouble of taking him to the doctor, and paying for it. They’re probably going to have to do scans again. He can feel the time he has left here being whittled away.

Nothing he says will make those EMT papers disappear. Nothing will undo what happened here tonight. Whatever the consequences are, he just has to face them, like he always does.

Families start taking their children home with them. The EMTs start packing up. Takashi follows the Fujiwaras and Tanumas to the parking lot. He feels the ache of an oncoming fever. Maybe he won’t be going to the doctor tomorrow after all.

The next day is a blur. He’s had fevers like this for as long as he can remember. There’s nothing anyone can do, they just happen sometimes, from too much exertion or spiritual energy. If they’re not too bad he can hide them, but this one knocks him flat.

He just wants to sleep until it’s over, but every time he dozes off, he has nightmares about being locked in a dark cellar and never let out again. Some of the nightmares blur into his own memories of being trapped. Locked in or locked out. Hungry and cold, but just like Shigure-sama, he knows there’s no point in calling for help. No one’s ever going to come.

He feels the despair deep in his bones, and doesn’t know who it belongs to. Maybe both of them.

Against his expectations, Nyanko-sensei stays by his side the whole time. Even though the yokai sees his nightmares, can’t help but receive them just as Takashi can’t avoid receiving the memories of other yokai.

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to face his nightmares alone.

Despite the intensity, the fever is mercifully brief, breaking that evening. Once he can stand again, he goes to the bathroom, rinses off, and has a long hot soak. Then he eats the soup Touko-san made for him and sleeps through the night. Whatever his dreams are, he doesn’t remember them.

He wakes up and goes downstairs. Touko-san smiles, just like she always does. She reaches for him, then hesitates. But when he doesn’t pull away, she finishes the gesture, smoothing down his mussed hair.

He knows he’s going to leave someday. He knows it’s only a matter of time, probably weeks, months if he’s lucky. But this place feels like a home, a real home. He doesn’t want to leave it.

How do people stay? When they’re not related by blood, or even if they are? Is there any way he could possibly become someone worth keeping?

No. He already knows the answer to that.

There’s a knock on the front door. Shigeru-san goes to answer it. Then he calls back, “Takashi, you have a visitor.”

Takashi braces himself. It can’t be a yokai if Shigeru-san sees them. Maybe it’s Tanuma?

Sasada is standing in the doorway.

Shigeru-san leaves them to talk. Takashi steps outside and slides the door shut behind him. He’s been cooped up inside, and the fresh air and sunlight help chase away the lingering ache from his fever.

“I came by yesterday, but you were sick,” Sasada says. “You’re feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Takashi says. Shigure-sama is gone. What she could possibly want from him now?

“I’m so sorry about everything,” Sasada says, looking at him with genuine regret. “I talked to my stepmom about— A lot of things. I guess I’ve been kind of a mess since, you know.” She gives a sad smile. “But I wanted to thank you. And Tanuma. For helping both of us.”

She holds out her hand. There’s a homemade omamori in it, similar to the one she gifted to Shigure-sama. The one her mother gave her. It was so important to her, and she gave it away.

“I made one for Tanuma, too,” she continues. “He was sick too, yesterday. A migraine. I’m going over there later to give it to him. You want to come with me?”

“I have to go to the doctor today,” Takashi admits. Not sure if it’s an excuse or just the unfortunate truth.

She gestures again for him to take the omamori. So he takes it.

“Thank you,” he says. Holding it in his hand, he feels the memory of the omamori in Shigure-sama’s hand. The god touched it and found peace.

It’s just a bit of sewn fabric. But he can feel the blessing in it, small and true. He doesn’t understand why Sasada is giving him this. But it’s kind of her.

She’s kinder than he thought she was. She’s suffered, and when she saw that Shigure-sama was suffering, she wanted to help him. That much he can understand.

“I won’t tell anyone anything,” Sasada promises. “Not ever. And if you never forgive me for what I did, I’ll understand. But maybe we could hang out sometime? And Tanuma, too.” She gives him a crooked smile. “No ghosts, just— Normal friend stuff.”

He smiles for her. “Sure,” he lies. “Thank you for this, it was very kind. I’ll see you at school?”

“Yes, of course!” Sasada says, pleased. “Would you like me to say hi to Tanuma for you?”

“Yes, thank you,” Takashi lies.

He watches her go.

Normal friend stuff.

That’s what he wanted to have with Tanuma. To forget about yokai and be normal with him. But Takashi has never been normal, and he never will be, no matter how hard he tries.

He thinks about Tanuma defending him from Sasada. Taking his hand and trying to pull him to safety. Tanuma helping him down the stairs, gentle and supportive and concerned.

Takashi stood on the roof and saw what he thought was Tanuma’s dead body.

It would be selfish to put Tanuma at risk again. Worse than selfish. He wishes he could be like Shigure-sama and let everything go all at once, and find his peace.

Takashi had thought he already knew how to let everything go. But that was only because he had nothing.

Chapter Text

“So what actually happened?” Kousuke asks, as he drives them out of the sleepy residential streets of Hitoyoshi, and up the mountain road to Yatsuhara.

The story of the gas leak was very convincing. If Kousuke didn’t know better, he would believe it, just like everyone else.

But he took one look at Kaname, one look at Takashi, and knew it couldn’t be that simple. They were the only two with injuries out of all those students. And if that wasn’t enough, there was the expression on Nyanko-sensei’s face, as Takashi held the cat close.

If you’re going to help, then start helping already, he seemed to say.

“So much,” Kaname says, tired, hurting from his bruises and migraine, but still wide-eyed. “There was a god, an actual god. He took everyone. I think I almost died.”

Kousuke stops the car and turns to Kaname.

“I’m okay,” Kaname assures him. “I guess he wasn’t really evil, just— Upset? Sasada said she and Natsume calmed him down. I don’t know what happened, exactly. I only woke up when it was all over.”

Kousuke flicks off his seatbelt and reaches over and pulls Kaname into his arms. It’s awkward, stretched across the car seats, but he doesn’t care. His son almost died.

Holding him, he can feel how Kaname is trembling.

“Are you actually okay?” Kousuke asks, making it clear that he wants the truth.

“I don’t know,” Kaname admits.

Kousuke sits back. He looks at the road illuminated in the headlights. The trees lining the road, the dark forest beyond.

Kousuke is a monk and a priest. He believes fully in the invisible world. Everything, every living and non-living thing, is alive with kami. And from the moment little Kaname started talking about seeing and feeling strange things, Kousuke accepted that for whatever reason, his son was born with one foot in that invisible world.

But seeing and feeling strange things is not this. It’s not two dozen children being kidnapped by an angry god, however briefly.

“This god, is he still there?” Kousuke asks. He has half a mind to go have a word with him.

“Sasada said he left,” Kaname says.

“Who’s Sasada again?” Kousuke asks, not sure if he remembers Kaname mentioning them before. How many children at this school can see spirits?

“The girl who ran the trial of courage,” Kaname says. “She’s the one who made Natsume come tonight. She needed him to talk to the god. She met him last year but couldn’t find him again.”

Kousuke starts driving again, eager to get his son safely home.

“I didn’t really like her at first,” Kaname continues. “She was really pushy with Natsume. She even threatened him. Said she’d tell everyone about him if he didn’t help her. But then she apologized and took it all back. She just wanted to help that god. So I guess she’s okay.”

It’s not a ringing endorsement. “Do you think she’s dangerous?” is not the question he ever expected to be asking about one of his son’s schoolmates, but here they are.

“Probably not,” Kaname says. “Her mom died? I don’t know much about her. She’s Natsume’s class rep, though, so I’m gonna keep an eye on her.”

Kousuke glances at his son, surprised by this sudden protective streak. Just yesterday, Kaname was considering giving up on friendship with Takashi.

“Natsume said he’s in danger,” Kaname says, sound as worried as Kousuke feels. “Well, he said being with him is dangerous. I think that’s why he avoids everyone. I think— This kind of thing might happen to him a lot.”

“I think it does,” Kousuke agrees, somberly.

“He doesn’t want help,” Kaname says. “But you’re right. He needs it. I don’t know what to do.”

Kousuke considers his son. Kaname has always been a good boy, and cared for others, helped Kousuke with his duties and charity work. But he’s also been lonely, isolated by his condition, detached from his peers.

But Kaname really has connected with Takashi. There’s none of his usual passive acceptance that making friends is too difficult. Just one adventurous evening together and Kaname is invested. He wants to fight for Takashi, to protect him.

It’s the kind of transformation Kousuke has prayed for. It’s why he stopped their wandering and made them a home. And it sounds like, however much he can, Takashi cares for Kaname back. So Kousuke will do whatever it takes to help this boy and support his son’s happiness.

“Right now you just need to rest,” Kousuke says. “How’s your headache?”

“Awful,” Kaname admits. He groans and slumps back in his seat. He’s quiet for the last leg of the drive, and then just as Kousuke turns off the engine, he says, “Natsume’s cat turned into a girl tonight.”

“A girl cat?”

“A human girl. She was dressed like a student. Long red hair. She looked kinda like Natsume.”

Kousuke doesn’t even know what to say to that.

“Natsume was surprised, too,” Kaname continues. “Must be weird, living with a spirit. Yokai. Ponta’s rude. If he doesn’t like people, why’s he with Natsume?”

When Kaname’s migraines are bad, it can make him a little loopy. This one seems bad.

“Isn’t his name Nyanko-sensei?” Kousuke asks. If the cat can turn into other shapes, maybe it has different names for different shapes?

“He looks like a tanuki when he’s not being a girl,” Kaname insists. “He’s Ponta.”

“Ponta it is,” Kousuke agrees. He gets out and then goes around to help Kaname into the temple. He gets Kaname his medication, then helps him clean up and get to bed.

“Do you think Natsume’s okay?” Kaname asks, voice slurred as the medication kicks in. “Whatever happened with that god, it hit him pretty hard.”

It certainly did. All the other students were riled up by what happened, scared and excited, even Kaname. Takashi looked utterly drained.

Kousuke was very glad to see Shigeru and Touko both showing such care for Takashi.

Kousuke has helped many children over the years. There are things he recognized in Takashi the very moment he saw him. But whatever has happened to him in the past, whatever danger he’s in with yokai, Touko and Shigeru are truly kind, generous people.

“I think his parents are doing their best for him,” Kousuke says. “I think he needs rest, just like you.”

“I hope he’s okay,” Kaname says. He looks up at the ceiling. “Maybe if he comes here, he can tell me what the pond looks like.”

Kousuke doesn’t bother looking up at where Kaname is looking. The reflection of water and swimming koi was the reason Kaname chose this room for his bedroom. But there’s no pond in the yard outside, only grass and rocks and trees. Kaname can’t see the pond itself, only the reflection.

Kousuke can’t see anything at all.

He wishes he could. He’s wished for so long that his son wouldn’t be alone, that they would find someone, anyone else with one foot in both worlds. He should have known that whoever they found, their situation would be just as complicated as Kaname’s. Maybe more.

“I hope he can,” Kousuke agrees.

Kousuke spends the next morning being as quiet as possible. Kaname is curled up in bed, uninterested in magical reflections or any kind of light or noise.

Around lunchtime, there’s a knock on the door. It’s Shigeru, and he’s brought Touko’s soup, as promised. After he hands over the container, he doesn’t excuse himself to go on with his day. He hesitates, like Touko and Nyanko-sensei hesitated.

“Let me put this in the kitchen,” Kousuke says. “I’ll be right back. We can sit outside, if you’d like to stay and talk? Kaname’s migraines make him very sensitive to noise.”

“Of course,” Shigeru says, understanding.

When Kousuke started restoring Yatsuhara, he found a neglected and overgrown garden here. But a little care made it beautiful again. Mountain rock juts out from the earth, draped with lush green moss. There’s a scattering of old stone lanterns and statues. Red and green maple trees stretch and weep beneath the forest canopy, catching patches of sunlight. A stream runs through, then leads out past the fields and feeds into a nearby swamp.

He had new benches installed, and he and Shigeru sit together on one.

“How’s Takashi?” Kousuke asks.

“Resting,” Shigeru says. “Touko didn’t want to leave him. He has a fever.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kousuke says.

“She told me about your visit,” Shigeru says. Beneath his calm demeanor, he looks at Kousuke with suspicion. “May I ask what motivated it?”

“My son says I’m a hopeless meddler,” Kousuke admits. “I ran into Takashi the other day. He seemed— Unusually distressed. I was concerned.”

“So you stopped by,” Shigeru says.

“You’re first-time parents,” Kousuke says. “And a child like Takashi would be challenging for anyone.”

“And what kind of child is he?” Shigeru asks.

“An abused one,” Kousuke says. Whatever else is true, aside from everything he can’t freely discuss with Shigeru or Touko. He knows what abuse does to a child, knows the scars it leaves. And Takashi’s scars run deep.

Shigeru sighs, acknowledging.

There’s a splash from the stream as a fish breaches the surface, for food or to escape being eaten itself. Not a koi. Kousuke only catches a flash of something small and silver.

“He was being passed around by our extended family,” Shigeru says. “Technically we’re related, but I could hardly tell you how. But I saw what you saw. A boy who desperately needs help.”

“You did a wonderful thing, taking him in.”

“I’m ashamed to be related to some of the people he’s lived with,” Shigeru says, not hiding his anger. “I wish I could tell you what happened. I’ve heard stories. I have hospital records.” He frowns. “I wanted to give him a fresh start, so he can leave all of that behind. I know he needs time.”

“Time will help,” Kousuke agrees. “The care you’re showing him will go a long way.”

“But you think he needs more.”

“That’s been my experience,” Kousuke says. “I’m not a therapist. You should get one for him, when you think he’s ready. But there’s usually— A transition period. No matter how safe they are, it takes time for a child to accept that the abuse is genuinely over. That it won’t start back up again the way it always has. I don’t think Takashi is there yet.”

He waits as Shigeru digests that information.

“He doesn’t trust us,” Shigeru admits. “He hides everything, even when he’s obviously suffering. Especially then. But seeing us worry upsets him. He shuts down even more.”

“You said he’s lived with a number of families?”

“Too many,” Shigeru says. “I checked his school records. He’s changed schools several times a year since he was seven.”

Despite what he already knows, that gives Kousuke pause.

“He needs a real home,” Shigeru says, with feeling. “He needs to feel safe and cared for, just as he is.”

“He does,” Kousuke agrees. “But he must expect that this home will be taken from him, too.”

“And what do you suggest?”

“I’d like to talk to him,” Kousuke says. “We can do this however you like. But if he’s that scared of upsetting you, it’s better if you’re not involved. His whole life here depends on you and Touko not deciding to hand him off like everyone else has.”

“He’s our son,” Shigeru says, certain.

“I’m sure he wants to believe that,” Kousuke says. “As his parents, you should do what you think is best for him. I try to do that for my own son. It isn’t always easy. I know I’ve made mistakes. I’ll probably make mistakes with Takashi. But I can promise I will try my best to help him and you.”

Shigeru considers the offer. “Takashi and Kaname. They’re friends?”

“They’re trying to be,” Shigeru says. “Kaname’s life has been difficult as well. We lost his mother when he was very young. He gets terrible migraines. I tried to find help for him, so we moved to many places. Then I realized it was time for us to stop wandering. I want this to be our home. I want him to be happy here. He needs a real friend. Takashi does, too.”

“And that’s your real motivation?” Shigeru asks, wryly.

“My son says I’m a hopeless meddler,” Kousuke reminds him. “But aside from that. If we are not here to help each other, then why are we here at all?”

Shigeru gives a thoughtful hum. “I need to talk to Touko.”

“Of course,” Kousuke says.

“If you can get him to talk to you, will you tell us what he says?”

“Only if it’s something I can share without betraying his trust,” Kousuke says. “I want him to be able to open up to you himself. But until then, if something comes up, I can give you— Guidance.”

“Guidance,” Shigeru echoes, considering.

A breeze rustles the forest. Somewhere above them, a squirrel chatters and a woodpecker rattles against an old branch. What does this garden look like to Takashi? What could he see and hear in this place, that even Kaname can only glimpse?

Kousuke can’t admit his other reason for wanting to spend time with Takashi. A selfish one. He worships and respects the invisible world around them. But like Kaname, he wants to know what the pond looks like. The color of the koi. If they would like him to feed them the way he’s fed the koi of other temple ponds. If they enjoy cabbage or peas, or summer watermelon.

He never meant to harm the spirits of Yatsuhara, when he went out and soothed the monsters. He doesn’t know how his small blessings could be so powerful. Has his soothing harmed other spirits? Has he made them angry, and is that anger the cause of Kaname’s migraines? Is at least some of Kaname’s suffering actually Kousuke’s own doing?

Without true understanding, Touko and Shigeru can’t properly care for Takashi. Kousuke can’t properly care for the spirits or for his own son. Takashi needs Kousuke’s help, but Kousuke also needs Takashi’s help.

Shigeru stands. “Thank you for your offer. We’ll consider it very seriously.”

Kousuke can see that he will. He can see that Shigeru is not a man who makes decisions lightly. He must have been just as serious about his decision to adopt a boy no one else wanted or understood.

When Shigeru is gone, Kousuke stays in the garden and thinks.

Takashi has been passed from home to home several times a year, for at least the last eight years. Even if every single one of his guardians was exceptional, the sheer instability of that would be devastating to any child.

Kousuke has always done his best to be kind and understanding with Kaname. To believe his son no matter what he says or how he behaves, when he perceives the invisible. But others who’ve passed through their lives have rarely been as accepting. Kousuke has tried to shield Kaname from their judgement, and that has probably isolated his son further. But it was the lesser evil, when others called Kaname crazy or a liar.

He believes he made the right choice, when he looks at the man Kaname is growing up to be. Despite all their challenges, Kaname always knew he could trust his father, always knew there was one person who would believe him, who would stand by him and protect him. Kaname knows he is loved.

Takashi didn’t have that.

Kousuke doubts that the guardians who so easily dismissed Takashi from their lives were exceptional people. If even one of them lost patience and lashed out, with words or violence, that could do enormous harm to a child with no real home or safety. If more than one of them did it? If it was a pattern?

And then there is the very real danger Takashi appears to have endured while all this was going on, and continues to endure. Angry gods and monsters with sharp claws.

Takashi has a real home now and exceptional guardians. And somehow he’s found an exceptional spirit guardian as well. But when someone walks out of a war zone and into a garden, the deep wounds they carry need to be tended so they can heal, or they might simply bleed out among the flowers.

Kousuke will always carry his failures in his heart. The people he couldn’t help in time. He doesn’t want Takashi to be one of them.

Chapter Text

For a solid twenty four hours, Kaname huddles in his bed, head throbbing and woozy. His room is kept dark and quiet, aside from the faint noises of his dad puttering around the temple, and the muffled sounds of nature. It’s the worst migraine he’s had since he moved here, the worst in a while. If he had any capacity for thought, he would wonder what kinds of spirits he’s crossed paths with in the past, if they were grinning one-eyed monsters or angry gods or shapeshifting cats.

But he can’t think. He just exists and tries not to hurt.

The next morning, he wakes up and cautiously opens his eyes. The dim light doesn’t stab into his eyeballs, and when he sits up, he only feels a little dizzy. Sometimes he’s had migraines that took days to end. Maybe because whatever triggered them kept hanging around. But the luck god is gone, and Yatsuhara is peaceful. Kaname’s barely felt anything at the temple for days, since Natsume met his dad out in the forest.

His head feels tender and his whole body aches. But moving helps him feel better. When he leaves his room, the blinds are drawn over all the windows. He finds his dad in his study, doing paperwork for the temple with a desk lamp.

“Feeling better?” Dad says. He puts everything aside and stands up. “How about some breakfast?”

“I think I could eat,” Kaname says. He barely got anything down yesterday.

They go to the kitchen and Kaname pulls back a window blind, letting in some indirect sunlight. He’ll probably need his sunglasses if he goes outside.

“Shigeru-san stopped by yesterday to give you Touko-san’s soup,” Dad says, as he fills two bowls from a container. “I couldn’t resist having a sip of it, it’s very good. Like the bento.”

Natsume’s bento. It’s strangely intimate to be eating Natsume’s foster mother’s food, when he’s not sure if he and Natsume are actually friends yet. It feels like they’re doing this all out of order. But the soup is delicious and reviving. He’ll have to thank Touko-san for it even if Natsume never wants to see him again.

Natsume said he just wanted to forget all the spirit stuff and be normal friends. But then everything was spirit stuff, and possibly the wildest and scariest night in Kaname’s entire life.

He wants to talk to his dad about it more. About all of it, what it was like, what it means. But he doesn’t feel ready to put it into words.

He’s known about and been affected by the spirit world his whole life. He feels intensely connected to it. But all his experiences pale in comparison to actually meeting spirits, yokai, an entire god.

And attacked by them. Not just affected. Attacked. The last thing he remembers, before he woke up on the roof with everyone else, was being surrounded on all sides by menacing creatures in the darkness: the grinning one-eyed girl from before, a gigantic disembodied head, and other things he knows will haunt his dreams. And then the luck god appeared before him like he did on the stairs, his angry power pouring off him, and the pain in Kaname’s head made him fall right into the god’s grasping hands.

“Are you all right?” Dad asks, concerned.

“I don’t know,” Kaname admits. He just doesn’t. It’s hard to even wrap his head around all of that, much less sort out his feelings. “Do you think Natsume is right?”

“About what?”

“That it’s too dangerous to be friends with him.”

“Ah,” Dad says. He considers the question. “I don’t think we know enough to answer that. Clearly he’s facing real danger. But he has a protector. And it seems he was able to resolve that situation peacefully. You don’t know how he did it?”

Kaname shakes his head.

“Then let’s reserve our judgement,” Dad says. “None of the dangers you faced together were his fault. It sounds like he did his best to protect you and everyone else. When I first met him, he was trying to protect me from the spirits, and them from me.”

“I guess he cares a lot,” Kaname says. But Natsume doesn’t seem to want to be around people at all. It’s confusing.

“I think he does,” Dad agrees. “But I don’t think he’s used to being cared for back.”

“Yeah,” Kaname says. He drags his spoon through the dregs of his soup, thinking.

“I understand Takashi had a bad fever yesterday,” Dad says. “But maybe he’s feeling better today. Would you like to give him a call?”

“Yes,” Kaname says, suddenly needing to talk to Natsume, to hear his voice and know he’s okay. Natsume almost died, too. He was hurt worse than everyone else. He was sick all day, like Kaname was. Maybe too much exposure to spirits makes him sick, too?

Dad finds the number for the Fujiwara house, but when they call, no one answers.

“They must be out,” Dad says. “Shigeru-san said they needed to take Takashi to the doctor. We can try again later.”

“Yeah,” Kaname says, feeling ridiculously disappointed. No matter how sensible it seems to give up on Natsume, all he wants is to get closer to him. To spend time with him and get to know him. Even if it means not talking about the spirits. They can still share everything else.

He wishes he could swap classes with Sasada, or Kitamoto or Nishimura. He wants to trade with Nishimura like he did at the trial, and have the desk next to Natsume all day long. Natsume is just so hard to reach, even when he’s right there.

Kaname’s never felt this way about anyone. This compulsion to get closer. He’s usually almost as bad as Natsume, keeping everyone at arm’s length because what’s the point of letting them in? With his migraines and his strangeness, it’s never going to work out.

Natsume must feel the same way. Maybe even more. Kaname’s long since accepted his own situation, but it feels completely unfair for Natsume to be so alone. To be so sad all the time, and scared and hurt, and have no one to turn to. Except Ponta, he supposes.

Kaname goes through his usual post-migraine routine, and can’t help but brood over Natsume the whole time. And then there’s a knock on the door.

It’s Sasada.

“Hi, Tanuma-kun,” Sasada says. She looks— Unsure. Regretful. “Can I come in?”

Kaname lets her in.

“I didn’t know you live in a temple,” Sasada says, looking around in awe. “That’s so cool.”

Kaname’s awe for temples wore off a long time ago. He still appreciates them though, their beauty and purpose. “Yeah, my dad’s a priest. He led the restoration.”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that,” Sasada says. “He did an amazing job.”

They sit in one of the public rooms, with a low table. A neutral space feels safer right now. “So what did you want to talk about?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral, too.

“I’m sorry,” Sasada says, with feeling. “I’m so sorry about everything. I already apologized to Natsume. I want to apologize to everyone but I can’t tell them the truth. But I’m really, really sorry.”

Her genuine remorse softens Kaname.

“I know it’s not much, but I made you this.” Sasada holds out a small object. It’s a homemade omamori, like the one the luck god found for her. “I made one for Natsume, too. Please accept it.” She bows her head.

Kaname accepts the omamori. He’s honestly relieved she’s making an effort. When he holds it, he feels a little power, weak but pure, from the prayer of protection sealed inside it.

“I had no idea any of that would happen,” Sasada continues. “I’ll never do anything like that ever again. I don’t even like scary movies or ghost stories, I just— He helped me, and he seemed so sad. I needed to help him, too.” She looks at him, needing him to understand.

And the truth is that he does. Kaname absolutely understands seeing someone in pain, someone difficult to reach, and feeling desperate to find some way, any way to help them.

He doesn’t think Sasada’s a bad person, or dangerous. She’s clearly learned from her mistakes. But he can’t help but feel protective of Natsume, having her in his class every day. She might feel bad about having threatened to out him to everyone, but that doesn’t change the fact that she made the threat.

Some of that must show on Kaname’s face, because Sasada reacts. “I swear I’ll never tell anyone about Natsume,” she promises, leaning forward, looking right into his eyes. Then she leans back. “I never would have, really. I just needed his help, and he’s so hard to talk to. I tried for a year to find Shigure-sama myself, and—“

“You mean Shigeru-san?” Kaname asks, confused. What does Natsume’s foster dad have to do with any of this?

“Shigure-sama,” Sasada corrects. “The luck god. That’s his name. Natsume knew it.”

“He did?” Kaname asks, very surprised. Had Natsume met the luck god before? He didn’t act like he had.

But then what does Kaname actually know about Natsume? Almost nothing, really.

“You were awake, right?” Kaname asks. “At the end? What happened?”

Sasada’s eyes go wide. “Oh, it was so scary! You disappeared, and I thought Natsume did too. But then I found him with that girl, your friend from out of town?”

“Uh huh,” Kaname says. When he woke up on the roof, Sasada seemed to think that Ponta’s girl form was a friend of his, and of course he played along. It must have been their cover story for Sasada.

“I have to thank her, too,” Sasada says. “I don’t know how she made that gas leak happen. She came up with that, I had no idea how to explain anything.” She shakes her head. “Anyway. She said everyone was on the roof. We rushed up there, and everyone was just lying there, even you. And then he was there, too. Shigure-sama.”

Her expression shifts, less excited and more terrified. “He said he was going to kill us. I was so scared,” she says, with feeling. “But I tried to tell him. Last year, he helped me. He was kind. He wasn’t bad or unclean.” Her expression falls. “But he didn’t believe me. And then he tried to make me fall asleep, too. I almost did, but the omamori— somehow it helped me stay awake. It was like— I could feel my mother’s blessing.”

She pauses, caught up in the emotions of the memory. “Shigure-sama tried to make Natsume sleep, but he fought it. So I fought, too. And then—“ She frowns, confused. “I think Natsume said something about his grandmother? Everything happened so fast. He had this book with him? He took it out, and they argued, and I realized I could stand again. So I gave Shigure-sama my omamori.”

That surprises Kaname even more than the rest of it. “But it was so important to you?”

“It was,” Sasada says, a little sadly. But she looks determined. “But he needed it. He had to know he wasn’t unclean, not to me.” She eases. “That’s when I heard Natsume say his name. And then it all stopped. Shigure-sama calmed down. The omamori must have really helped him. He touched me, and he thanked me, and then— He left.”

She touches her forehead, where Shigure-sama must have touched.

“When I turned around, Natsume was unconscious and I couldn’t wake him up. I was kinda freaking out. And then your friend came over and picked up that book Natsume had, and put it in that waist pack he was wearing? She said to tell everyone it was a gas leak and she’d take care of the rest. I didn’t get her name, what is it? I should really write her a thank you letter.”

Kaname struggles for an answer while he tries to figure out what on earth actually happened that night. He can’t say it’s Ponta, or Nyanko-sensei, he absolutely can’t.

And then he remembers Natsume called the cat another name when it first transformed. Maybe it’s what the cat is called when it’s a girl? What was it again?

“Reiko,” Kaname says.

“That’s a pretty name,” Sasada says, pleased. “If I give you a letter, can you give it to her?”

“Absolutely,” Kaname says, already picturing the cat’s expression when he reads it to him. Actually, can Ponta read? It wouldn’t surprise him.

“I’m so glad I could talk to you about it,” Sasada says. “It was all just so much, I felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t tell someone. Not that I would! I really wanted to talk to Natsume about it when I saw him, but— He’s so hard to talk to, you know? How did you get to be friends with him, anyway?”

“We’re both transfer students, so—“

“Right,” Sasada says, realizing. “Welcome to Hitoyoshi, I guess? People say there’s a lot of spirits here, but I’ve lived here all my life and nothing like this has ever happened before. Until last year I thought it was all just stories.” She looks out the window, uneasy.

Then she turns to him. Looks directly at him. “So can you see things, too? Like Natsume?"

Kaname hesitates.

He really wants to talk to Natsume about all of this, too. But it’s so hard to talk to Natsume. And even though he can tell his dad pretty much anything, his dad wasn’t there that night. Sasada saw the same things he did. She walked up to that god and helped him, even though she must have been terrified.

And giving Kaname and Natsume omamori, too— She must be trying to help them, like she helped Shigure-sama.

She does seem to have a good heart. She just got carried away by her grief.

“No,” Kaname admits. “But I can feel things. Last night was new for me too. I’m sorry about your mom. I lost mine, too, when I was really young. It’s just me and my dad.”

“Oh!” Sasada says, and looks empathetic and sad. “It’s just me and my step-mom. My dad died too, last year. That’s, ah, kinda what made me so—“

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Kaname says, feeling awful now for judging her.

Tears well up in Sasada’s eyes, and she gives a weak smile as she wipes them away. “Yeah. It’s been, uh. Yeah.”

Kaname suddenly feels like a terrible host. “Would you like some tea? Or—“

“No, thank you,” Sasada says. She gathers herself. “I should really get home. But thank you. I acted so terribly before. If you never forgive me for what I did, I’ll understand.”

“I forgive you,” Kaname says. He was raised to never hold anger in his heart anyway.

“Oh!” Sasada says, relieved.

“But I won’t forgive you if you ever threaten Natsume again,” Kaname adds.

“Never again. I swear it on my parents’ graves,” Sasada says, and means it.

Kaname can hardly ask for more than that.

“Thank you for the omamori,” Kaname says, gentler.

He walks her to the door.

When she’s gone, Kaname goes back to his bedroom. He pulls back the blinds and then lies on his bed, and watches the shadows of koi flicker on his ceiling. He thinks about a lot of things.

After dinner, his dad calls the Fujiwara house again. This time they pick up.

“Ah, Touko-san,” Dad says, cheerful. “How are you doing? We’ve all had quite a time. I hope Takashi is feeling better?” There’s a pause as he listens. “I’m so glad. If he’s up to it, Kaname wants to say hi.”

Another pause. Dad hands over the phone.

“Hello?” Natsume says.

“Hey,” Kaname says. Ugh, he already feels so awkward. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I heard you had a fever yesterday.”

“Yes,” Natsume says. “It’s better now.”

“I had a headache yesterday,” Kaname says. “But I’m okay now, too. Um. Sasada stopped by. She apologized. She said she saw you, too?”

“Yes,” Natsume says. “Everything’s fine.”

Kaname wonders if Natsume is upset with him, he’s being so painfully polite.

And then he realizes that the Fujiwaras must be nearby.

Natsume’s foster parents don’t know he can see spirits. They don’t even know that his cat is a spirit.

That feels wrong, to Kaname. He’s so used to being able to tell his dad anything. It’s not just Kaname that Natsume doesn’t want involved in the spirit side of his life. It’s everyone. Even ‘the people he lives with.’

Kaname thinks about Sasada, living with her step-mom after losing both her parents.

“I was thinking about what you said,” Kaname says. “About being normal friends. I guess— You eat lunch with Kitamoto and Nishimura, right? Maybe I could join you? They seem nice, maybe we could all be friends together?”

He holds his breath, hoping he said the right thing. Then he has to breathe again because Natsume is taking a long time to answer.

If Natsume’s life really is that dangerous, if he’s worried about Kaname getting hurt because of him, even if none of it is his fault—

Kaname doesn’t care what Natsume can see. I mean he does, but— He cares more about Natsume.

“Lunch would be nice,” Natsume says, and he finally sounds relaxed. “They, um. They took me fishing last weekend. And they’re teaching me to ride a bike. Do you—“

“I have a bike,” Kaname says, quietly victorious. “Maybe they could show me around? I don’t really know the area yet.”

“They’re still showing me around,” Natsume says. “They’re very kind.” He sounds fond and happy, talking about them. And Kitamoto and Nishimura do seem pretty relaxed with Natsume. Maybe he just needs to follow their lead.

“Great!” Kaname says. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow? Where do you guys usually eat?’

“The roof,” Natsume says. “I’ll talk to them before. Make sure it’s ok.”

“Of course,” Kaname says. Right. This means he’s going to be friends with them, too. Or he hopes he will.

He’ll have three friends here. Four if he counts Sasada, which— He thinks he might.

They say their goodbyes and hang up. Kaname feels vaguely shocked.

“Everything okay?” Dad asks.

“Yeah,” Kaname says, realizing it’s true.

He thinks of Sasada’s omamori, in his pocket. Maybe it’s helping them like her omamori helped Shigure-sama. It was kind of her to make them for him and Natsume. Both of them really do need a little luck.

“I’m having lunch with Natsume tomorrow,” he says. Happy that he’s here, that his dad found this place, that he and Natsume might really be friends now.

“Ah, that’s wonderful!” Dad says, pleased. “I’ll pack you something extra so you can share it.”

“We’ll be eating with Natsume’s friends. I should share with them too, right?”

“Natsume has other friends?” Dad asks, with mild surprise.

“Yeah, a couple of guys in his class. I met them, they’re nice. They were at the trial, too. But they don’t know about—“

“Ah,” Dad says.

“I don’t think we should push him about the spirit stuff,” Kaname decides. “I just want to be his friend. I know you want to help him, but—“

“I understand,” Dad says. “I’ll try to stay out of your way. But I do want him to know that there’s at least one adult in his life that he doesn’t have to be afraid of.”

“He’s afraid of the Fujiwaras?” Kaname asks, concerned.

“I don’t think he should be afraid of Touko-san or Shigeru-san,” Dad says. “I think if he did tell them the truth, it would be okay. But he isn’t ready for that. We’re part of both worlds, just like he is. That means he can tell us things and we’ll believe and understand him. I think he needs that very much.”

Kaname imagines if he went through everything that happened at that trial, and then when he got home, he had to lie to his dad about it, and pretend he was fine. It would be awful.

It’s awful, thinking about Natsume being hurt all the time, and having no one.

“Do you need me to bring him here, after school?” Kaname asks.

“Treat him as your friend, that’s all,” Dad says. “I can only help him if he chooses to come to me. I’ll find a way to make myself available to him. To let him know I’m a safe person, just as you are.”

Kaname remembers how icy Natsume was, when Sasada threatened to tell everyone his secret. And then, with Sasada’s help, he stopped an angry god and saved everyone.

He can obviously protect himself from a lot of things. But he still got hurt that night, more than anyone else. And he went home and had to be hurt alone, even with the Fujiwaras right there.

It’s not right or fair. But his dad has always said that ‘right’ and ‘fair’ are things they have to put into the world themselves.

Chapter Text

Takashi has to let Tanuma go. After Sasada’s visit, all through his afternoon at the hospital, he makes his peace with the decision.

It’s the right thing to do. He closes his eyes and sees Tanuma lying on the roof of the old schoolhouse and knows it’s the right thing to do.

People get hurt because of him, other children get hurt. Because yokai are drawn to him. Because humans are repulsed by him. His presence contaminates anyone who gets too close.

Shigure-sama’s memory of hiding in the dark. He listens to Sasada’s voice as she pleads for him to come out, but he knows he can’t.

After she gave Takashi the omamori, he went up to his room. He pulled his cardboard box out of the closet, put the omamori inside, closed the lid, and put the box back.

He’s grateful for the gift. It was kind of Sasada to make it and give it to him. But he can’t keep it out where he has to look at it. When things hurt too much, he puts them away. He has the rest of the weekend to gather up everything he feels about Tanuma and put all of that away, too. It’s plenty of time. And on Monday, when they’re back at school—

When they’re back—

…

It shouldn’t bother him. He’s used to leaving people behind. He’ll leave everyone here behind soon anyway, and then they’ll forget him, even Tanuma. They’ll be happy again without him, without his contamination.

He closes his eyes and sees Tanuma’s body lying on the roof.

Tanuma is miraculously still alive. Takashi will do anything to make sure he stays that way.

The test results come back, and everything’s fine. His bruises will heal, like they always do, yellow and then fade away. The Fujiwaras went through so much trouble to bring him here, and of course there was nothing to find. Touko-san and Shigeru-san both seem relieved, at least, instead of annoyed at the pointless visit.

He’s incredibly lucky that they found him, and impossibly lucky that they still seem happy keeping him.

Impossibly.

There should be signs by now that they’re not happy. He’s been watching very carefully. For them to frown at his presence instead of smile. For the inevitable long sighs and despairing glances. And then the bigger signs that are always obvious. Snaps of impatience. Punishments.

He’s been here for more than two whole months. He’s gotten hurt, he’s made a lot of mistakes. There being no signs at all makes him certain there’s something he’s missing. But what?

He wasn’t allowed to bring Nyanko-sensei with him to the hospital. On the way home, all he can think about is going back up to his room and hugging the cat close.

If the yokai lets him. Nyanko-sensei is difficult to predict. Sometimes his bodyguard will disappear for hours and come back drunk, or act like he truly can’t wait for Takashi to get eaten so he can take the Book. Sometimes he lets Takashi hold him like he really is a cat, and purrs so loud it rumbles Takashi’s bones.

And sometimes he’s Reiko. Takashi doesn’t even know where to start with that.

When they get home, Touko-san suggests that he stay downstairs with them while she makes dinner. Shigeru-san coaxes him to the sofa and drapes a blanket over him before he can protest. He’s tired from the hospital, from his fever, from everything.

When he wakes from his nap, the house is full of delicious smells. There’s a lingering feeling of purity in his body, and a Nyanko-sensei-shaped indent in the blanket.

He finds Nyanko-sensei in the kitchen, of course, helping Touko-san in his self-proclaimed role of official taste tester. Takashi feels fond, watching them. He tries to soak the moment up, to save the gift of it inside himself. Even though one day he’ll have to put the memory away, like Sasada’s omamori.

And the memory of Tanuma saying he can see and feel strange things, too. And the memory of Tanuma on the rooftop, alive, looking down at Takashi with so much care.

He can still feel where Tanuma touched him. His shoulder, his hand. His arms and back as Tanuma helped him stand and get down the stairs. All of it has to be put away.

After dinner, the phone rings. Touko-san walks into the hallway and answers, and when she greets Tanuma-san, Takashi tenses up.

The priest told Nyanko-sensei that he wanted to help Takashi, apparently. But surely he’s changed his mind now. Surely the last thing he wants is for Takashi to be anywhere near his son. Maybe he’ll forbid them from ever seeing each other again. That’s what usually happens when someone Takashi’s age gets close to him.

Touko gestures for him to come take the phone.

“Hello?” Takashi says, bracing himself.

“Hey.”

Tanuma. It’s Tanuma. Why is he calling? Did something happen, is he hurt?

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing,”Tanuma continues. “I heard you had a fever yesterday.”

“Yes, it’s better now,” Takashi says, automatically. He’s spent all day trying to stop thinking about Tanuma, but hearing his voice drags everything back up.

“I had a headache yesterday,” Tanuma says. “But I’m okay now, too. Um. Sasada stopped by. She apologized. She said she saw you, too?”

“Yes,” Takashi says, voice calm as he feels everything falling apart around him. “Everything’s fine.”

That stuck feeling is creeping up on him again. What should he do? He hates having to lie, and he especially doesn’t want to lie to Tanuma, the only person who might actually understand him. He doesn’t want to put Tanuma away and never think about him again.

But what choice does he have? He’s never had a choice in anything. Not in seeing yokai. Not in where he lives or who he lives with. Even when he tries to choose, when he tries to have something for himself, it always ends the same.

A rasping meow makes him glance over. Nyanko-sensei is splayed out on Touko-san’s lap, and for some he interrupted his usual post-meal belly rubs to get Takashi’s attention.

Nyanko-sensei’s eyes peer knowingly into Takashi’s, conveying some silent message. The cat can’t say anything with the Fukiwaras around, but—

Takashi knows Nyanko-sensei sees his dreams when he sleeps. He’s starting to think the cat can see into his waking soul, too.

Shame flushes through him.

“I was thinking about what you said,” Tanuma says, dragging Takashi’s focus back to their call. “About being normal friends. I guess— You eat lunch with Kitamoto and Nishimura, right? Maybe I could join you? They seem nice, maybe we could all be friends together?”

Normal friends. Kitamoto and Nishimura.

Somehow that magic combination of words saves him.

“Lunch would be nice,” Takashi says, indescribably relieved. “They, um. They took me fishing last weekend. And they’re teaching me to ride a bike. Do you—“

“I have a bike,” Tanuma says. It’s such a normal thing to say. “Maybe they could show me around? I don’t really know the area yet.”

“They’re still showing me around,” Takashi says, suddenly giddy. “They’re very kind.”

Kitamoto and Nishimura and two of the kindest people he’s ever met. They look out for him and make it possible for him to fit in at school, and just being near them makes every day better. It doesn’t feel dangerous to be friends with them.

Not that yokai aren’t dangerous to them, too. Nishimura got possessed for a week. And both of them were caught up in what happened with Shigure-sama.

Maybe Takashi should be just as scared for them as he is for Tanuma. But he isn’t. Most yokai ignore human who can’t perceive them, so as long as they remain blissfully unaware, most dangers pass them by.

Maybe being around them will make Tanuma safer, too.

“Great!” Tanuma says. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow? Where do you guys usually eat?’

“The roof,” Takashi says. He tenses up, then shakes it off. The school roof is nothing like that abandoned building. It’s just a normal lunch with his friends out in the fresh air and sunshine. “I’ll talk to them before. Make sure it’s ok.”

It will probably be okay. Kitamoto and Nishimura were friendly to Tanuma last week, even though they barely knew him.

He hopes it’s okay.

“Of course,” Tanuma says. He sounds happy, really happy.

They say their goodbyes and hang up. Takashi stands there, staring at the phone, and his face feels strange.

He realizes he’s smiling. He’s happy. He’s glad he— He doesn’t have to give Tanuma up. Not yet.

He thinks about Tanuma saying he wants them to get to know each other. To hang out and talk and share things. And he wants them to have lunch together.

It all sounds— it sounds really nice.

His eyes well with tears and he wipes them away. But he can’t stop smiling.

That night, he lies in bed, happy. Nyanko-sensei’s in a good mood, too, and purrs loudly as Takashi strokes his soft fur.

“Changed your mind about having human friends?” Nyanko-sensei asks, his voice teasing, a little curious.

“I don’t know,” Takashi admits.

He’s never had a friend like Tanuma before. He’s barely had friends at all. He has no idea what he’s doing. Kitamoto and Nishimura have been best friends their whole lives, and so far seem content with him just following their lead, tagging along.

But Tanuma is different. Very different.

“Do you think I should be friends with him?” Takashi asks, genuinely wanting the yokai’s opinion.

“Hmph,” Nyanko-sensei says. “I suppose he’s tolerable, for a human weakling. But if he’s going to be in my majestic presence, he’ll have to treat me with the proper respect.”

“Of course, Sensei,” Takashi says. Respect, of course, means treats. He’ll have to warn Tanuma about that.

It gives him a new, strange feeling, thinking about talking to Tanuma about Nyanko-sensei. Knowing Tanuma will believe him, will accept what he says about the yokai. Tanuma has already met Nyanko-sensei and talked to him. And Tanuma called tonight and on Monday they’re going to have lunch together. It all feels completely unreal, but— A good kind of unreal.

In the middle of the night, a knock on the window drags both of them from sleep. It’s a crane yokai, white and elegant in the moonlight, and it wants its Name.

Its Name is Arasaki. In return he sees its memory of Reiko, winning one of her now-familiar games. When it’s gone, he falls right back to sleep and dreams of spreading large white wings. He lifts up into the air, tucking his long, thin legs beneath him. He’s carried by the wind over shining waters as the sun warms his back.

His good mood continues all Sunday. Touko-san and Shigeru-san are both pleased to see him feeling better, and their smiles are easy. He helps them with their vegetable garden, mostly pulling weeds. The physical activity helps work the stiffness from his muscles, and it feels good to move after all his resting, to help the vegetables grow.

As he’s dumping the weeds into the compost pile, he notices two birds flying overhead: their resident pair of crows, black and white. Somehow he begins to see what they see: himself on the ground below, the Fujiwaras, the house, all tiny. Hitoyoshi nestled between the green mountains, one of a whole line of towns stretched along the river. He can feel the power of the mountains, high and wild, and the answering pull of the sea, an endless, churning depth. He knows somewhere far north is where Arasaki was born, what feels like centuries ago.

He gets dizzy, then, and falls to his knees. Shigeru-san helps him to a shaded spot and gets him water. That puts an end to his gardening, so he rests and lets his mind be carried up again. He feels the wind through his feathers, the way it parts smoothly for his slim form, then ripples and tugs at his tail.

Arasaki’s memories wipe away the contamination and claustrophobia that Shigure-sama left behind, leaving him open and light and free. But he has to move carefully for the rest of the day, to suppress the way his body wants quick, birdlike motions.

He’s been so many shapes since he started returning Names a month ago. He has so many other beings’ memories inside him, their senses of self, their perceptions and emotions.

It scared him the first time it happened, with lonely Hishigaki. He asked Nyanko-sensei if something had gone wrong with the Book, or if Hishigaki had come back and possessed him.

The cat had been gruff, still annoyed about having to protect Takashi in exchange for inheriting the Book after his death. But he gave Takashi an examining stare. “You’re not possessed.”

“You’re sure?” Takashi asked. He felt small and weak, and having two eyes instead of one made everything look strange. He knew that wasn’t how he should be thinking about his own body.

“I told you the Book is too powerful for you,” Nyanko-sensei reminded him. The cat smirked. “Let me protect you by taking it off your hands.”

Takashi glared at him.

“Fine, fine,” Nyanko-sensei sighed. “You’ve never felt anything like this before? Picked things up from yokai?”

Takashi shook his head. Until the Book, he spent his life trying to get as far from yokai as possible. Most of their interactions involved him running away. He talked to yokai, sometimes, but mostly that happened when he was confused, thinking they were humans.

One of many reasons he’d decided that it was best if he talked as little as possible to anyone, human or otherwise. It was best if he kept to himself. Interactions with yokai never ended well, and the same went for interactions with humans.

“The Book is connected to the yokai bound to it,” Nyanko-sensei explained. “As its owner, so are you.”

“Then I’m still connected to Hishigaki?” Takashi asked, disturbed.

“You released the connection,” Nyanko-sensei reminded him. “But first you activated it.”

“Will this happen every time I give back a Name?” Takashi asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Takashi considered if maybe the Book really was too dangerous for him. Not just because it made him even more of a yokai magnet. Returning Hishigaki’s name drained something in him, and then filled him up with the yokai’s memories. Years of loneliness as it waited for Reiko to return. Was he damaging himself permanently?

“Will the memories go away?” Takashi asked. He didn’t want to feel like Hishigaki forever.

“They’ll fade,” Nyanko-sensei said. “But they’re yours now. Human lives are dull and short anyway, you should be grateful. But if you don’t like it…” The cat smirked again.

Takashi didn’t deign to answer that.

Maybe he was damaging himself permanently. But he was still the only one who could release the names from the Book. He didn’t like yokai, but he hated the thought of anyone being trapped and helpless. He’d had the Book for years without knowing what it was. It could have been thrown out or destroyed so easily.

He had a responsibility, a purpose for what had been a completely pointless life. He’d burdened and troubled everyone who ever met him. So what if having the Book hurt him? Just weeks ago he was knocked off a cliff while trying to save himself from being abducted and tortured.

The Book gave him a bodyguard. All in all he was safer with it than without it.

Nyanko-sensei was telling the truth, that giving back Names would always be an exchange, and that the memories would fade but never leave him. Takashi knows all of this must be changing him. But he’s glad to feel like someone else, to be anyone but himself. And it’s hard to feel as scared of yokai as he used to be when he can remember being one, being many of them. Spirits of animals and plants, beings made of faith and worship, the power of the earth and elements given form.

It’s not until that evening that he realizes something new happened today.

“I felt like Arasaki today,” he tells Nyanko-sensei, as he pets him. “But I think I was a crow, too. Is that because they’re both birds?”

“It’s because they’re both yokai,” Nyanko-sensei replies.

“The crows are yokai?” Takashi asks, confused. “But Touko-san is friends with them?”

“Just the white one.”

“Oh,” Takashi says, alarmed.

He knows half the things around him are only visible to him. He used to look up everything he saw in reference books, trying to figure out what was safe to mention and what wasn’t. He used to make lists and keep track, so he could make fewer mistakes.

But it was too much to try to memorize two entire, overlapping worlds. And things that look mundane are often of the spirit world. Some of the weeds he pulled out today were probably only visible to him. At some point he accepted that he’s never going to get it right, he’s always going to slip up and people are always going to notice. But he still tries as hard as he can.

He talked to Touko-san about the white crow. More than once. But she was kind and pretended she could see it, too. Will she get tired of pretending? If he stops mentioning the white crow, will that help or make things worse?

“Is the white crow in the Book?” he asks.

“No.”

“But then why was I the crow?”

“So many questions,” Nyanko-sensei sighs. “You were the crow for the same reason I see your dreams. Your spiritual power.”

Takashi knows he has power. Not that it does him any good. It’s why he can see yokai, it’s why yokai call him delicious and try to eat him on a regular basis.

“But I thought they had to be in the Book?” Takashi asks.

“I’m not in the Book,” Nyanko-sensei reminds him. “You don’t need the Book to make connections.”

“Then why don’t I see your memories? Or dreams?”

“Because I’m a noble being with more dignity than some shabby crow spirit,” Nyanko-sensei declares. He huffs and jumps away, gives himself an affronted shake. “If you’re recovered enough to ask lots of annoying questions, then I’m going for a walk. Don’t return any more names while I’m gone.”

“Sensei,” Takashi calls, but the cat is already sliding open the window. He hops out, slides it pointedly shut, and then he’s gone. Probably to go drinking.

Takashi lies back and closes his eyes. He remembers being the white crow, flying so high, while feeling that the human residence below was its home. He should have realized that had nothing to do with Arasaki, who flies north and south with the seasons and has no fixed home, no attachment to Takashi’s human life.

He has a connection to a yokai without the Book. He supposes he already had one with Nyanko-sensei, but it’s different being the one to receive. The crows often roost in the trees around the house at night. Does the white crow see his dreams like Nyanko-sensei does? He could try asking it, even though it behaves just like the black crow and doesn’t seem to be able to talk.

He’s not sure he wants to know the answer, though. It unsettles him, the thought of being so wide open to anything. But that yokai who tried to abduct and torture him saw right into his soul, too, saw his memories with just a glance.

And the countless other yokai who’ve pursued him over the years? Could they all see into his soul? So many of them called him lonely or suffering, said they’d put him out of his misery in one way or another. He assumed it was just obvious from looking at him. But maybe what they saw went deeper.

He wishes Nyanko-sensei hadn’t left. He doesn’t feel light or free anymore. His senses strain for any lurking threats. Out beyond his windows, there are yokai everywhere. Most of them going about their lives with no interest in him, but—

Nyanko-sensei’s presence lingers in the room, at least. The purity of the yokai has soaked into the whole house and his bedroom in particular, getting stronger with time. Like a cat marking its territory. He’s marked Takashi, too.

But lingering presence probably isn’t enough. Takashi’s been attacked even with his bodyguard right beside him.

He’ll be all right spending the night alone. And if he isn’t, then he’ll deal with it, like he’s dealt with it his entire life. So what if yokai can see into his soul? They won’t find anything he doesn’t already know about. And he’s still fast enough to outrun them. He can still take refuge in shrines.

He needs to get back to his old routines with the shrines. He can’t become dependent on an unreliable bodyguard who might decide to inherit the Book sooner rather than later.

And then he notices something else in the room. Something small and pure. It’s in the closet.

Sasada’s omamori.

He gets up and pulls out the box, picks up the small, sewn bag. Right now it doesn’t hurt to look at it. It feels like protection, no matter how slight.

He puts the box away and takes the omamori with him to bed. He doubts it could do anything to actually protect him, but somehow he feels better anyway, just holding it.

He was angry with Sasada for putting everyone in danger, for getting Tanuma hurt, for threatening the Fujiwaras. But she was just trying to help Shigure-sama. And now that the luck god is a part of Takashi forever—

He can’t help but feel the god’s fondness for her. The bright spark in his unending darkness, coming back for him day after day, refusing to give up on him. Holding this omamori, he remembers being Shigure-sama and holding the omamori that Sasada’s mother gave her. The impossible grace of that little prayer in his hand, proving that he isn’t evil, after all his anger, after all he’d done to those children.

She made Shigure-sama happy. And without the more painful memories in the way, Takashi can feel that happiness.

She came back for Takashi, too. If he has changed his mind about having human friends, which he supposes he has— Then maybe it would be nice to have another friend in his class. Another friend who knows the truth and still wants to be around him. To do normal things with, like he does with Kitamoto and Nishimura.

That would mean he has four friends now. That’s so many, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with them all. Should he invite Sasada to lunch, too? Sometimes she gets along with Kitamoto and Nishimura, but sometimes they argue. Are the three of them already friends? Do they even like each other, if they argue?

But sometimes Kitamoto and Nishimura argue with each other, too. It scared him, the first time they did it in front of him. He thought their friendship was over. But the next day they were back to normal. Is that how friends usually are with each other? Or is that something special to the two of them?

Takashi doesn’t know much about humans at all, despite ostensibly being one. Being full of yokai memories doesn’t help, but that was true even before the Book. He’ll have to trust that if he keeps watching Kitamoto and Nishimura, they’ll show him what to do.

He half-wishes for a knock on the window. Another Name return would send him right to sleep, and drown out his human problems for a while. But the night is quiet.

At least Arasaki’s memories are still fresh, and the white crow’s. He closes his eyes and remembers white feathers and wind, and carries the omamori into his dreams.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Natsume!” Nishimura calls, waving as he sees Takashi approach their meeting point, for their walk to school together.

“You look at lot better,” Kitamoto says, as he looks Takashi up and down.

“Yeah, you gave us a scare when you didn’t wake up right away,” Nishimura says. “You gotta tell Touko-san to make you more liver, get your strength up.”

“I will, thank you,” Takashi lies. Their inspection of him ends, and they start walking.

“Everyone at school was freaking out on Friday,” Nishimura continues, chatty as ever. “I’m not surprised you got sick, but Tanuma was too. He had a headache or something? He said he gets headaches sometimes. Did you guys talk? How’s he doing?”

“I’m sure he’ll be at school today,” Takashi says. “Actually, I was wondering— Would you mind if he joins us for lunch?”

“Sure,” Kitamoto says. “Are you guys friends now?”

“I think so, yes,” Takashi says.

“Good,” Kitamoto says, and gives him an approving slap on the back. “He seems like a pretty nice guy, the way he was looking after you.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure about him before, but now I like him,” Nishimura says. “You guys can be quiet transfer student buddies.”

Takashi can’t help but blush.

Nishimura continues talking, going on about the girl he went on his trial with, the one Takashi swapped for Tanuma. Nishimura is already in love with her, but based on the other girls he swoons over, his feelings are unlikely to be returned. Takashi feels bad for him, getting all those rejections. But he also thinks it’s amazing how Nishimura isn’t afraid of rejection, how he remains so optimistic that one day a girl will like him back.

Of course a girl will like him back. Takashi is certain things will work out for Nishimura eventually. He can envision an adult Nishimura with a wife and kids and everything normal people have.

Kitamoto, too, though he doesn’t chase girls the way Nishimura does. He’s quieter, more serious. He’s focused on his family, he’s mentioned that his dad gets sick sometimes.

Takashi thinks of Sasada. Her father’s recent death, coming so close after her mother’s. When he was getting ready for school, he tucked the omamori she gave him into his bag, alongside the Book.

When there’s a lull in the conversation, and before they get too close to school, Takashi asks, “What do you guys think of Sasada?”

“Too bossy,” Nishimura declares. “I can’t date a girl who’s always telling me what to do.”

Kitamoto chuckles. “You so would.”

It’s Nishimura turn to blush. “Okay, I would. But not Sasada. She’s always yelling at me.”

“Because you’re always goofing off in class,” Kitamoto says. “If you don’t get serious you’re gonna end up in cram school.”

“Cram school,” Nishimura groans.

“It’s too bad the trial of courage was a disaster,” Kitamoto continues. “I know that was important to her.”

“Are you friends?” Takashi asks.

“We used to be,” Kitamoto says. “When we were kids. But we sort of drifted apart. And then all that stuff happened with her family.” He has a solemn look.

“I guess she’s had it pretty rough,” Nishimura says. “But she doesn’t have to be so—“

“Yeah,” Kitamoto sighs.

Takashi decides not to ask if Sasada can join them for lunch. He’s not sure he wants that anyway. Shigure-sama might have left behind a lot of positive feelings about Sasada, but Takashi still isn’t sure how he feels about her himself. But he’s going to have to spent almost all of every school day in the same room as her. At the very least, he wants things to be amicable between them.

She saw him return a name. She saw Shigure-sama and gave him her omamori. Sasada wanted proof that Takashi can see spirits, and she got her proof. Takashi can’t pretend none of that happened, even though he very much wants to.

When they get to their classroom, before class starts, Takashi goes over to her.

“Natsume-kun?” Sasada says, curious and wary.

He gives her a short, respectful bow. “Thank you again for the omamori.” He takes it out and shows her that he brought it with him, that he’s accepted her gift. “It was very kind of you.”

“Oh!” Sasada says, surprised, then pleased. “You’re very welcome. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Yes,” Takashi says. He hesitates, wondering if he should say more. Not that he wants to talk about spirits in the middle of their classroom. He very much does not.

Not knowing what to say, he puts the omamori back in his bag. As he does, Sasada’s eyes widen.

She saw the Book in his bag. She knows about the Book.

It’s not safe to bring it to school anymore. But he can’t just leave it at home, or anywhere.

He pulls the flap of his bag down tightly. “Excuse me,” he says, and hurries over to his seat, and tries to be calm.

It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Even if she tries to take it, Nyanko-sensei wouldn’t stand for that. And why would she want it? She only cares about Shigure-sama, not any other yokai, and he’s gone. She can’t see other yokai, can’t even sense them like Tanuma. She doesn’t have power. It would be useless to her.

Still. He has to protect it. Tomorrow he’ll switch to always carrying it in his waist pack, hidden under his clothes. That will be safest.

He dares at glance across the classroom to Sasada. She’s staring at him, but then she takes her seat. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

His heart stops racing a few minutes into their first class, and he focuses on his education. But as lunch approaches, his stomach fills with nervous butterflies.

Lunchtime. Tanuma.

Does Tanuma know how to get to the roof? Should he meet Tanuma at his classroom to show him the way? But it’s the other side of the school, they might miss each other.

No. He needs to stay with Kitamoto and Nishimura. They’re what’s going to make this work. Takashi’s no good with humans on his own. But with them it will be fine.

When they get to the roof, Tanuma isn’t there yet. Takashi can’t help but watch the roof door anxiously. He spares a glance over at Kitamoto and Nishimura, and they seem gently amused by his fretting.

“Don’t worry, if he can’t make it today, he can come tomorrow,” Kitamoto reassures him.

“Right,” Takashi says. He stops staring at the door, and takes out his lunch. Though his stomach is such a knot of nerves, he’s not sure he can eat anything.

The familiar creak of the roof door startles him. He looks up and Tanuma is there. He sees them and waves, and walks over.

“Tanuma,” Takashi says, standing up to greet him.

“Hey guys,” Tanuma says. He seems so calm, it eases Takashi’s nerves a little. “Okay if I join you?”

Takashi internally winces, realizing that while he did ask Kitamoto and Nishimura if Tanuma could join them, he forgot to tell Tanuma that they said it was fine. If their positions were reversed, without an explicit invitation, Takashi would have simply assumed the worst and eaten alone. Thankfully, Tanuma came anyway.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Kitamoto says. He gestures for Tanuma to sit next to Takashi. “Grab a seat.”

“Thanks,” Tanuma says, smiling. He smiles at Takashi, and Takashi’s knees feel suddenly weak.

He sits down, face hot, and tries to pull himself together. He takes out his wrapped bento. It’s bigger than normal. When Touko-san gave it to him this morning, she said she packed something extra for him to share with his friends. When he unwraps it, there’s his usual bento, and a second box filled with—

“Manju?” Nishimura says, eagerly.

Takashi has found himself buying a lot of the confections lately, almost all of it for Nyanko-sensei. But the Fujiwaras must have noticed the boxes he’s brought home, and think he has a sweet tooth.

“Ah, it’s for everyone,” Takashi says, and puts one of the four manju into Nishimura’s begging hands. He gives one each to Kitamoto and Tanuma.

“I have something to share, too,” Tanuma says. “Nothing fancy, but—“ He opens his bento and reveals a second box filled with senbei, baked rice crackers.

“Are those sweet potato flavor? This is the best lunch ever,” Nishimura says, delighted. He takes his share and immediately starts eating it, his usual melon bread set aside.

“This is great, thanks!” Kitamoto says, also pleased.

Takashi breathes out. If Kitamoto and Nishimura are happy, everything should be fine.

“For you, too,” Tanuma says, offering him the box.

“Um, thanks,” Takashi says, taking his share. Blushing again.

He doesn’t know what’s come over him. He was fine being around Tanuma before. Well, maybe not fine, exactly. After his first conversation with Tanuma, he ended up standing in a closet. Then he avoided him. And then they were at the trial of courage, which— Well.

But Tanuma looks different today, fully lit in the bright sunshine, relaxed and happy. Having a normal lunch with friends. No secrets, no yokai. Somehow being with him makes Takashi’s nerves flare up and fade away at the same time.

He thinks of Tanuma looking down at him on the roof, full of care. And he ducks his head and focuses on his lunch.

“—live in Yatsuhara,” Kitamoto is saying, when Takashi realizes they’re talking. “What’s it like, living in a temple?”

“I dunno, I’m so used to it,” Tanuma says. “Yatsuhara’s really beautiful, though. It’s not as big as the original temple was, but my dad and all the builders did a great job with the restoration. You should come by and see it sometime.”

“You’ve lived in other temples?” Kitamoto asks.

“That’s pretty much all I’ve lived in,” Tanuma says. “I’ve kinda been an unofficial monk my whole life.”

“Is that what you’re going to do when you graduate?” Nishimura asks.

“Oh no,” Tanuma says, with feeling. “I mean, I have so much respect for my dad. And I guess I’m pretty spiritual. But it’s not for me. And my health isn’t really good enough, the training’s really intense.”

“You said you get headaches?” Kitamoto asks.

“Migraines, yeah,” Tanuma says. “Sometimes fevers.”

“That’s rough,” Kitamoto says, sympathetic. “Natsume gets fevers, too.”

“Yeah, he’s anemic,” Nishimura says. “One time I found him passed out in the park.” He reaches over and pats Takashi’s shoulder. “But now he’s got us looking out for him. If he gets too pale we take him right to the nurse.”

Takashi’s face is red again, but less pleasantly. “Nishimura,” he pleads, embarrassed.

“Hey, if he’s gonna be your friend, he needs to know,” Nishimura says. “The first time it happened I thought you were dead!”

“He’s got a point,” Kitamoto says to Takashi.

“Yes, well. I’m fine,” Takashi insists.

“That’s what he usually says right before he keels over,” Nishimura teases.

Takashi covers his face with his hands. He’s so burning with embarrassed he’s going to burst into flames. He can’t believe they’re doing this to him, this is a disaster, it’s awful, it’s—

He peeks through his fingers. Tanuma is— Laughing? But not mean laughing. Takashi knows mean laughing.

“I like you guys,” Tanuma says, to Kitamoto and Nishimura. “I’m glad Natsume’s got you looking out for him.” He turns to Takashi and smiles, and again his smile does funny things to Takashi.

“So now that you’ve had a Hitoyoshi special, how do you like it here?” Nishimura asks.

“Hitoyoshi special?” Tanuma asks.

“He means what happened at the old building,” Kitamoto says.

“The gas leak?” Tanuma asks.

“Did you see that pipe?” Nishimura says. “It was ripped out of the wall! It looked like someone squeezed it with their bare hand! Just one hand!”

Sensei, Takashi thinks, exasperated. Couldn’t his bodyguard have been just a little more careful with their cover story?

“Weird things happen around here a lot,” Kitamoto says. “They always have. This whole area’s supposed to be full of spooky monsters.” He says ’spooky monsters’ menacingly, then shrugs. “Not that I’ve ever seen one.”

“Or me,” Nishimura sighs, disappointed.

“I guess that old building was pretty spooky,” Tanuma offers.

Takashi is honestly impressed by Tanuma’s composure. But since he can sense spirits, he must be used to pretending they’re not there.

“It was definitely ghosts,” Nishimura insists, then takes a big bite from his melon bread.

“Honestly, most of the time this place is pretty boring,” Kitamoto says. “Getting two new transfer students was the most interesting thing to happen in ages. We can show you the best fishing spots, though. You like to fish?”

“Actually, I was hoping you could show me around,” Tanuma says. “Natsume said you gave him some kind of tour? I have a bike.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Kitamoto says, perking back up. “Want to grab our bikes and meet up after school? The four of us?”

“Works for me,” Tanuma says. He turns to Takashi. “Sounds good?”

“Uh, yeah!” Takashi says, putting some enthusiasm into it. And he is happy, this is exactly what he needed.

But Tanuma seems so comfortable talking with Kitamoto and Nishimura. The three of them are so natural together, and Takashi’s barely said a word. Maybe this whole plan is backfiring and Tanuma’s realizing he’d rather be friends with them than with Takashi.

Ugh, he sounds so insecure, even to himself. If Nyanko-sensei was here he’d say Takashi was being a pathetic weakling, and he’d be right. He faces down terrifying yokai all the time, he should be able to hold a conversation.

“Do you like to garden?” Takashi asks Tanuma. “Where I’m staying there’s— We have a vegetable garden.”

“I do, actually,” Tanuma says. “I’ve always helped with the temple gardens. What are you growing?”

“Um, a few things,” Takashi says, trying to remember everything that wasn’t a weed. “Daikon, carrots, cucumber, cabbage. Some peppers. There’s an herb garden with onion and shiso and parsley.” Though he could do without the parsley. “And there’s a watermelon vine, it’s already huge. Oh and tomatoes, Shigeru-san loves cherry tomatoes.”

“That sounds amazing,” Tanuma says, and he really does seem impressed. He points at Takashi’s half-eaten bento. “Are those cherry tomatoes from the garden?”

“Uh, yeah,” Takashi says, pleased. “I actually picked these myself yesterday. They’re really sweet. Would you, um—“ He reaches for one.

“But you picked it yourself,” Tanuma protests.

“Please,” Takashi says, holding it out.

Tanuma takes it, looks at it. Pops it into his mouth and bites down. “That’s so good,” he moans.

“Me too?” Nishimura says, holding out his hand.

There’s two left. Takashi gives them to Nishimura and Kitamoto, and they both praise the tomatoes.

“Dad hasn’t set up a vegetable garden at Yatsuhara yet,” Tanuma says. “He hasn’t had time. Running a temple is a lot of responsibility. Maybe we could get it started?”

“I just know how to pull weeds,” Takashi protests.

“That’s most of the work, with gardening,” Tanuma points out. “I know how to prepare the beds and what to plant. Kyushu has a long growing season, right? So it’s not too late, especially for fall crops.”

“We can help out,” Kitamoto says, volunteering himself and Nishimura. “We don’t know much about gardening, but we can dig. And we can probably get some other people to help, since it’s for the temple.”

“That would be amazing,” Tanuma says, grateful and impressed. “I’ll talk to my dad about it tonight.”

Tanuma looks happy, really happy. That makes Takashi feel happy, too.

They chat comfortably together for the rest of lunch, debating what they should plant in their new vegetable garden. All too soon lunch ends and they leave the roof. They head back to class, but Takashi and Tanuma fall behind, lingering before they have to separate.

“This was great,” Tanuma says, and means it. “I’ll see you after school, for our tour? And we’ll have lunch again tomorrow, right?”

“Yes,” Takashi agrees, eagerly.

“Oh, I was wondering— Do you not like senbei? I could bring you something else.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious,” Takashi says, feeling caught. He didn’t eat his senbei or his manju, and he didn’t eat everything in his bento either. He has to save all that for the shrines, but he can’t talk about that. “Touko-san always makes me too much food. I thought I’d save it for later. But I’ll eat it all, I promise. I even have to eat the parsley.” He makes a face. Ugh, parsley.

The way Tanuma is looking at him, Takashi knows he made a mistake just now. He said something that wasn’t normal. But he’s not sure what it was. Sometimes it’s so difficult to figure out.

“Okay,” Tanuma says. He glances at a nearby wall clock. “I gotta get to class. I’ll see you after school.” And with a wave he heads off down the hall.

Takashi resists the urge to slam his head against the wall. It’s fine, he’s fine. Tanuma has to have figured out by now that Takashi is hopelessly awkward. But they’re going to spend the afternoon together anyway, and have lunch again tomorrow, and build a whole garden together. All of that is wonderful. It’s normal friend stuff. It’s exactly what he needs.

Chapter Text

Takashi met Kitamoto and Nishimura when he started school in Hitoyoshi. At first he treated them like he’d learned to treat all his peers. He was polite to them, smiled, answered when spoken to, but mostly did his best to stay out of their way.

He survives school, and frankly all of his existence, by being as unnoticeable as possible. When he’s moved, which happens several times a year, there’s always a flurry of interest in the new transfer student. A long time ago, he would try to use that interest to make friends. But his peers would quickly realize there was something wrong with him, even faster than his teachers or the people he lived with.

He wasn’t completely alone. There might be one or two people who reached out, who tried to offer their kindness to him. But they always paid a price for it. They would get hurt by yokai, or hurt by his bullies, or told by their parents to stay away from him. And even if somehow they persisted through all that, the people he was staying with would get sick of him, and that was that.

Takashi never had any intention of becoming actual friends with Kitamoto or Nishimura. They don’t deserve to suffer just because they share his class, because Nishimura sits next to him and talks to him.

Nishimura got possessed because of him. A yokai had been stalking Takashi and attacked him. Nishimura found him lying unconscious in the grass and helped him, and the yokai saw them together. Takashi avoided the yokai after that, so it went after Nishimura instead.

But then Nyanko-sensei saved Nishimura. Blasted the yokai right out of him with his purifying power. And then Nishimura was fine. His mom was mad at him, but Nishimura went right back to talking to Takashi anyway. They learned how to make paper cranes together. Takashi even met his brother.

And Nishimura and Kitamoto are a package deal. Best friends for life. So if Nishimura wants to be friends with Takashi, then Takashi also has to be friends with Kitamoto. The three of them started walking to school together, since it turned out they live nearby. They started asking Takashi if he’d ever gone fishing or if he could ride a bike, or if he’d ever seen some weird bug, or if he’d been to the arcade yet, or tried a particular flavor of ice cream.

And of course he’d never done any of those things. And instead of his admissions of failure turning them away, they took him to the arcade, or showed him the weird bug, or bought him the ice cream, not even letting him pay for it. If he doesn’t know how to do something, they see it as an opportunity to teach him. They think it’s funny that he’s never done all the things they’re so used to, but not in a mean way. They’re kind and generous in ways he still can’t really grasp.

But he’s grateful to them. He’s as grateful to them as he is to Nyanko-sensei for becoming his bodyguard, and to the Fujiwaras for letting him live with them. What they’ve each given him is already so much he can’t possibly ever repay it.

And their kindnesses keep building on each other. Because Nyanko-sensei saved Nishimura and is around to save him again, Takashi was able to accept Nishimura’s friendship, and then Kitamoto’s. Because they insisted on teaching him to ride a bike, Shigeru-san pulled his old bike out of the shed, wiped it down, filled the tires and oiled the chain, and insisted that Takashi try it out. Even when Takashi said it might get damaged, because he wasn’t very steady on a bike after only one lesson.

And Shigeru-san didn’t get mad when Takashi limped back home and the bike was all scraped up, and for once he’d ripped his clothes doing something normal instead of running for his life, but they were still ripped. Touko-san and Shigeru-san only cared about cleaning up his scraped knee and elbows, and making him rest with his leg up and an ice pack on his knee. Takashi felt sick with anxiety the whole time, but in hindsight the memory is something he already cherishes.

So it’s only because of all that, only because he can stand on that tower of kindnesses, that he’s able to take Shigeru-san’s bike out of the shed and ride unsteadily to meet his friends — his friends — to take a trip together around the town, with Nyanko-sensei perched in the basket and looking very skeptically at Takashi’s wobbling path.

“When you crash, don’t expect me to save you,” Nyanko-sensei warns. Takashi’s leftovers from lunch are wrapped back up and tucked into the basket with him. “I’ll be too busy saving myself.”

“Yes, Sensei,” Takashi says, breathing hard, arms and legs already trembling from the effort. He can run incredibly fast for as long as it takes for him to reach a shrine, but apparently riding a bike uses completely different muscles. And running for his life is basically the only thing he’s good at, as far as physical activity is concerned. Countless gym teachers have taken one look at him and given up.

Just in case he does fall, since he probably will, Takashi took extra precautions when he moved the Book to his waist pack. He sealed it in a plastic bag, then wrapped it several layers of fabric. He thinks that should be enough, but he’ll try to avoid landing on it.

Even though he’s probably the closest to their rendezvous point, he arrives last. And in his excitement at reaching his friends, taking the downhill corner too fast, he notices the small mushroom yokai in his path too late, brakes and swerves hard, tumbles right over the handlebars, over Nyanko-sensei and the basket, and is only saved from significant injury by his hard-earned reflexes.

“Natsume!!”

Nishimura, Kitamoto, and Tanuma all hurry over and swarm around him. Nyanko-sensei is ruffled but unharmed, having leapt off the bike before it fell over. The mushroom yokai yelps and scurries off the road.

“Are you okay?!”

“You went flying!”

Hands pat him down, checking for injuries. That landing knocked the wind out of him, and it takes a moment to get his lungs working again. He flails, needing to stand. Every instinct is telling him he has to keep running, falling down means he has to get up and keep running.

“Easy, easy,” Kitamoto says. He puts his arms around Takashi, helps him sit up, but then holds him still.

“I’m fine,” Takashi assures them and himself. Nothing is chasing him right now. It wasn’t the mushroom yokai’s fault that he fell. And Nyanko-sensei’s right here, sitting on the ground, looking at Takashi with resigned disappointment. He’s safe, he’s fine.

“Never believe him when he says that,” Nishimura warns Tanuma, then turns back to Takashi. “That fall was crazy! How did you not break your neck?!”

Takashi doesn’t think he actually needs to answer that, so he doesn’t. Once the shock of the fall wears off, Kitamoto helps him up. Tanuma rights his fallen bike and wheels it over, checks it.

“I think the bike’s okay,” Tanuma decides. “Good thing this is a dirt road. Could’ve been a lot worse.”

“Hmm, looks like Natsume’s in one piece, too,” Nishimura declares. “Somehow. You get an extra life from your cat?”

That drags a laugh out of Takashi. “Something like that.”

“Your cat’s okay, too,” Nishimura says, looking at Nyanko-sensei. “Let’s get you guys back home.”

“No,” Takashi protests. He needs this, this is important.

“They can give me the tour another time,” Tanuma says.

“I’m fine,” Takashi insists. He stands up, showing them his lack of broken bones or sprains. He can breathe fine and he’s not even dizzy anymore. He’ll have a few new bruises for his collection, but he’s had far, far worse.

Nishimura and Kitamoto do not look persuaded. Takashi should back down, should put his friends’ feelings above his own. But he refuses to give up their afternoon together. He can’t give it up.

Tanuma picks something up. The wrapped leftovers. He hands them to Takashi, who holds the bundle close. The senbei are probably broken, but he was going to have to break them apart anyway.

“You do seem okay,” Tanuma says. “If you’re still up for it, then we should go.”

Nishimura, who’s been protective of Takashi ever since he found him passed out in the grass, looks at Tanuma with disappointment. “What if he falls again?”

But Kitamoto considers it. “You know, usually Natsume rides on the back of one of our bikes. That should be safe. You up for a turn?”

“Sure,” Tanuma says. “Can you take the cat?”

“Deal,” Kitamoto says.

“Fine,” Nishimura sighs. He turns to Takashi. “But you’re only allowed to give me one heart attack per day. Quota’s filled, got it?”

“Got it,” Takashi says, chastened.

“Here kitty kitty,” Kitamoto says, gesturing for Nyanko-sensei to get into his bike basket. Nyanko-sensei does not look enticed, but hops in anyway.

“Can I put that in here?” Tanuma says, gesturing at the bundle in Takashi’s hands. Takashi lets him put it into his bike basket. “Let’s test this out first.”

Tanuma gets on the bike and steadies it. Takashi sits on the rack over the back tire and wraps his arms around Tanuma, the way he usually does with Kitamoto and Nishimura. Tanuma pushes the bike off and starts pedaling. The bike wobbles a bit, but then it steadies.

“All good?” Kitamoto asks.

“All good,” Tanuma says. “Let’s go!”

Tanuma is even taller than Kitamoto. Broader too, and Takashi can feel the flex of his muscles as they ride.

Natsume and Tanuma's shared bike ride. Illustration by bold_embrace.

Everyone relaxes as Kitamoto and Nishimura lead them through the winding streets, pointing out various houses and saying who lives there, waving to people they pass. The tour they take is basically the same as the one they took Takashi on, through their neighborhood and then the large park in the middle of town. Then they coast through the streets along the river, pointing at shops and other buildings. They talk about things that used to be there when they were younger, events and memories, a living history as much as sightseeing tour.

Kitamoto and Nishimura don’t point out all the yokai they pass. Mostly little ones, harmless, like the mushroom yokai. With Nyanko-sensei leading the way, nothing gives them any trouble.

It’s hard to tell, with Tanuma’s back to him, and with Tanuma focused on riding and everything else, but he thinks Tanuma notices the bigger ones, turning his head in their direction as they pass. Each time he does that, it gives Takashi a strange thrill.

He just wants to do normal things with Tanuma. But—

He rests his forehead against Tanuma’s back, closes his eyes, and feels too many things.

Their pace slows as they head back up, away from the river and back to where they started.

“You’ve been quiet back there,” Tanuma says over his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

Takashi forces himself to cheer up. He’s not even sure why he’s sad. “Yes. Thanks for letting me ride.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Tanuma says. “That was a scary fall.”

“I guess I need to practice more,” Takashi admits. “How long did it take you to learn how to ride a bike?”

“I was really young,” Tanuma says. “I don’t remember. You didn’t ride at all before?”

“No,” Takashi says. He stayed with many families who had bikes. But asking for something like that for himself just wasn’t possible. He didn’t ask the Fujiwaras for a bike either. Shigeru-san just decided to share his. Gave it to him, really, since he knew Takashi might damage it. Did damage it. And he fell again already.

“Maybe I can help you practice?” Tanuma offers. “Just the two of us?”

“Yeah,” Takashi says, sad and happy at the same time. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“The garden’ll be fun, too,” Tanuma says. “It’s a big job, though, I have to do some planning with my dad first. But I could always come over and help you with your weeding?”

Takashi is too overcome by the offer to respond to it. Tanuma really is trying to be his friend. To spend time just with him. With him and Kitamoto and Nishimura, yes, but—

Takashi realizes he’s scared. He’s terrified. He’s a weakling, hiding behind Kitamoto and Nishimura. There’s finally someone else who shares his world, who wants to know him, and he’s utterly failing to handle it.

But people don’t stay. They don’t let him stay. What happens when he has to leave? Bad enough he’s letting himself get used to Touko-san’s meals, losing control over his hunger. What if he forgets how to survive being alone?

No. He always survives. He’ll be fine.

“Sure,” he says, finally, forcing himself to smile even though Tanuma can’t see his face. He puts the smile into his voice, too. “That sounds great.”

“Great,” Tanuma says, and he seems to believe him.

If he ever gets close enough, he’ll learn that Takashi is nothing but a liar.

They get back to Shigeru-san’s bike. Tanuma helps Takashi clean off the dirt, and they uncover a few new scratches. The four of them walk their bikes together, and then Tanuma splits off one way, and Nishimura and Kitamoto split off the other way.

There’s still plenty of daylight left. Takashi waits until they’re out of sight, then finally has a chance to check that the Book is okay. Then he heads back towards the river.

The first shrine on his list for the day is close to the school. It’s the one he ran to last week, and Tanuma-san was there. Takashi leaves the bike parked at the bottom of the steps and takes Nyanko-sensei and his wrapped bento and water bottle up with him.

He bows deeply at each torii gate, paying his respects the way he couldn’t when he ran here in a panic. It’s rude to barge into a shrine, yet he often has to, which is why his calmer visits are so important.

It’s a simple shrine, no fountain or bell. He uses the water bottle to wash his hands, rinse his mouth. He goes to the last torii and bows again, then up to the offering box at the front of the building. He takes a five yen coin from his pocket and puts it into the box, then bows deeply twice, claps his hands twice, and bows deeply again.

If he was anyone else visiting this shrine, that would be that. But he’s not anyone else. He opens the door and goes inside. Nyanko-sensei stays outside, standing guard.

Takashi has spent a lot of time in shrines. In cities the shrines are full of visitors and priests and other caretakers. People praying for good grades or health or money. A lot of the homes he’s lived in have had small household shrines. The Fujiwaras have one, too.

He’s watched people make offerings to the enshrined gods, and in homes he’s watched the people he’s lived with make offerings to their household spirits. People place food in front of the sanctuary where the gods or spirits reside, and then once the food has been blessed, the people take it back and eat it themselves.

When Takashi was old enough to make an offering of his own, something else happened. When he set down a plate with two mandarins, a pair of long, ghostly hands reached out of the sanctuary, touched the mandarins, and then took one away.

He’d looked around, then, to see if anyone noticed the strange hands. But it was the same as it was with every other part of the spirit world. No matter what, no one else ever saw it. No one else heard it or felt it. If he pointed out the missing mandarin, the people there would get annoyed with him, say he obviously ate it or hid it himself, and tell him to stop lying.

The mandarin was still gone. Not knowing what else to do, he ate the one that was left. He could feel the blessing in it as he ate it. Even for normal people, the offering is meant to strengthen the bond between the god or spirit and the human. Like eating a meal with family, or so he’s been told.

No matter how the people he lived with were related to him, Takashi knew he wasn’t family to them. He knew he would never have a human family again. And he had no interest in bonding with frightening yokai.

But the beings in the sanctuaries always feel safe. Gods or spirits. They feel pure, like the shrines feel pure. If he has any family at all, he thinks it must be them. Even though he never sees anything but their hands.

Shrines protect him, after all. From yokai, from humans. No matter what’s hurting him, he knows he can run to a shrine and be safe there, at least for a while. That’s what home is supposed to be, or so he’s been told.

He has no home. Just places he lives until he has to leave them. But everywhere he goes, there are shrines.

In this shrine now, Takashi goes right up to the box that holds the shintai, the object the being here inhabits. He unwraps his bento and takes out two equal pieces of the broken senbei, and a third of his manju, split in two, and a third of his saved rice, split in two, and arranges them on the lid of his bento box.

He puts the offering down in front of the shintai box, and silently sends his sincere gratitude to the god within for its care and protection. He tells the god how important each piece of their meal is: Tanuma’s senbei, rice from the Fujiwaras, and the manju, favorite of his bodyguard, a gift shared from his kind guardians to his new and precious friends. He silently asks that this meal strengthen the bond between himself and the god, so that they may continue to care for each other, and that the god will forgive his many mistakes.

Long, ghostly hands reach out and touch the senbei, the rice, the manju. When they pull away, they take one of each, leaving the others blessed.

Takashi eats his portion of their shared meal, and strengthens his bond with his family.

He rarely has so much to share. Sometimes all he can offer is plain water, not even a five yen coin. But for now, he has more than his heart can hold.

He gathers his things and leaves. When he steps outside, Nyanko-sensei gives him one of his considering looks.

“Two more to go,” Takashi says. Two more shrines he can take refuge in along the route between school and the Fujiwaras. He’ll work his way around the rest of area a few at a time, but these are the most important. “Then we can go back. Maybe Touko-san is making fried shrimp for you tonight.”

Takashi is tired when he gets back to the Fujiwara house. It’s been a long day, and he aches from his tumble off Shigeru-san’s bike. He just wants to eat dinner, have a hot bath, and go to sleep.

When dinner is almost over, Shigeru-san says, “Oh, I almost forgot. A letter came for you today. I left it in your room.”

A letter? For him?

If it was an official document, surely it would have been sent to the Fujiwaras, not him. But he doesn’t get personal letters. Why would anyone write to him?

When he gets to his room, he examines the sealed envelope. There’s no stamp, no addresses, only his name. It was delivered by hand.

“It’s from that priest,” Nyanko-sensei says, after giving it a sniff.

“Tanuma-san?” Takashi says, surprised.

Nyanko-sensei doesn’t seem concerned. He sits back and starts licking his paw.

Curious and wary, Takashi opens the envelope. Takes out the folded letter, opens it.

Dear Takashi-kun,
I humbly apologize to you, and to the spirits of Yatsuhara.
As a monk and a priest, I care for the invisible world that you and my son are both a part of. It was never my intent to frighten or harm the spirits, and I am greatly ashamed that I have done so unknowingly. I fear there are many spirits across Japan that I owe apologies to.
I am deeply grateful to you for your kind intervention, for protecting both myself and the spirits from each other. While I cannot perceive all that you can, in truth there is only one world that we all share. One whole we are all a part of.
I would like to do better, and find greater harmony between myself and the spirits of Yatsuhara and Hitoyoshi. I humbly ask for your help in doing so. Please apologize to them on my behalf. And if you are willing to teach me about them, know that I am your humble and eager student.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Tanuma Kousuke

The letter slips from his numb fingers and wafts to the floor. Nyanko-sensei saunters over and reads it.

“Interesting,” Nyanko-sensei says.

“I thought—“ Takashi says, straining to pull thoughts from his stunned brain. “Didn’t you say he wanted to help me?”

“I guess he changed his mind,” Nyanko-sensei says. “That rabble around Yatsuhara hardly deserve an apology. But I can accept on their behalf. As their noble leader.”

“Since when are you their leader?” Takashi asks, surprised.

“I’m a noble being,” Nyanko-sensei reminds him. “Besides, I’ve known most of those troublemakers for centuries. I’ve been going over there to remind them of my greatness.”

“Is that where you’ve been disappearing to?” Takashi asks. “When you’re supposed to be protecting me?”

“I am protecting you,” Nyanko-sensei declares. “I’m reasserting my dominance to keep ‘em all in line. And accepting offerings from my underlings.”

“You mean drinking their sake,” Takashi realizes.

“Exactly,” Nyanko-sensei says, proudly. “And it’s working. Didn’t you enjoy your nice normal day today?”

“Yes,” Takashi admits. He wasn’t pestered by the Mid-Ranks or the kappa. He saw plenty of yokai today, riding around, but none of them bothered him. That mushroom yokai was just trying to cross the street.

“That’s because I’m an amazing bodyguard,” Nyanko-sensei says. “Maybe if we visit the priest, he’ll give me some sake. Or snacks. Priests usually have mochi. You should convince him to switch to dango, I like that better. That reminds me, that manju you had today should have been offered up to me!”

“I guess we could visit,” Takashi concedes. Then he shakes his head. “No, I can’t— I have to be normal with Tanuma.”

“Do you?” Nyanko-sensei asks.

“Yes!”

Nyanko-sensei does not look convinced. “Fine. Ride bikes, pull weeds, whatever. As long as I get my offerings.”

“Sensei,” Takashi pleads.

“You better pick that up,” Nyanko-sensei says, twitching his ear towards the letter. “You don’t want to leave that lying around where anyone could read it.”

Takashi snatches up the letter and holds it close.

No, he can’t leave it lying around. He should probably destroy it. Burn it, maybe. But even thinking about that feels wrong. Like destroying a page from the Book.

He dares another look at the letter, still hardly able to believe the words.

What does this mean? Is he in danger? Nyanko-sensei doesn’t seem worried at all.

Takashi doesn’t know anything about harmony. He’s probably the least harmonious person to ever exist. He makes everyone else less harmonious just by being around them, humans and yokai.

Nyanko-sensei will probably make him go see Tanuma-san, so the cat can get his offerings. But what if the priest gets angry when he realizes Takashi can’t help him? He was very calm the two other times Takashi met him, but people who are calm stop being calm when they spend enough time with Takashi. No matter how hard he tries to not upset anyone, to not make mistakes. He is a mistake. His whole existence is a mistake, he knows that.

But fine. Fine. He can never talk Nyanko-sensei out of anything food related, so he just has to let this happen. And if it means Tanuma-san forbids him from ever seeing Tanuma again, then maybe that’s for the best. Takashi doesn’t want to see Tanuma turn cold and angry like everyone else. He doesn’t want Tanuma to hate him. It’s better if Tanuma gives up on him before that happens. It’s better.

He goes to the closet and takes out his box. He folds the letter, puts it back in the envelope, and puts it at the very bottom, under the textbook with his only photo of his parents hidden between the pages. Then he puts everything else back on top. He goes to his bag and takes out Sasada’s omamori, and puts that back in the box too, and puts the box away.

Chapter Text

Kaname starts his walk the next morning with a smile. He’s the farthest from school along his route, but joins up with other students as he goes. First a girl who’s in his class, then a trio of boys and a pair of girls, all older than him. He cheerfully greets them this morning, and they all greet him back.

Well, everyone except the girl, who’s apparently too shy to talk to anyone. But that doesn’t bother him at all today. Yesterday was amazing. Amazing.

It was the kind of day he’d given up on ever having. He had lunch with his friends, and then they got together after school and had fun. And Natsume was right, just doing normal things together was great.

Of course, it might not last. It’s not like his migraines and fevers are going anywhere. Once his absences start piling up, things might go back to how they’ve always been. But he wants this to work. He wants to build a real life here, in his new, real home.

And maybe with Natsume, his absences won’t matter. Because Natsume gets sick from spirits, too, so he’ll understand. And if Nishimura and Kitamoto are determined to be friends with Natsume despite his poor health and weirdness, then they might be okay with Kaname’s poor health and weirdness, too.

He listens as the older boys talk enthusiastically to each other about baseball. Kaname hasn’t been here long but it seems like the three of them are always talking about sports. The pair of older girls alternate between talking about their favorite TV shows and who in the school is dating who. Today they’re talking about some actor they both like who’s in a movie they saw together.

Living with monks his whole life has not done Kaname any favors as far as keeping up with popular culture. And being sick has kept him from getting into sports, even as a spectator. But when he’s recovering from a fever, he does like to watch TV and movies. He makes a mental note of the movie they’re talking about. Maybe going to the theater is something he can do with Natsume, along with bike practice and gardening and who knows what else?

It just feels so great to have a friend. To have three friends, even if two of them are inherited. His dad was so happy to see him happy yesterday, and thankfully isn’t being too smug about it.

It did make sense, pairing him up with another transfer student, even before they realized everything else they have in common. The students at the places he’s moved to usually have established friendships, like Nishimura and Kitamoto, like the trio of boys and pair of girls. Friends who’ve grown up together, who have long, shared histories, whose families are close with each other. It’s daunting trying to fit into that. Kaname’s honestly impressed that Natsume managed it.

Though it does seem like Nishimura and Kitamoto were the ones who picked Natsume, and not the other way around. Adopted him, even, from the way they obviously look after him. And they seemed eager for Kaname to fit into that dynamic, too.

But Kaname’s seen a side of Natsume that the others haven’t. He’s not sure Natsume needs adopting, exactly. At least he doesn’t need it from Kaname.

He does need to learn how to ride a bike, though. Seeing him fall like that scared Kaname almost as badly as anything that happened at that trial of courage. Kaname felt a great sympathy for Nishimura’s heart attack quota, and he has a feeling he’ll soon have a quota himself. If that’s the cost of being friends with Natsume, though, he’ll gladly pay it.

Hopefully he’ll get to talk to Natsume more today. Yesterday Natsume was kinda quiet, and Kaname ended up chatting with Nishimura and Kitamoto most of the time. But Kaname feels a lot more confident in their friendship already. Everyone told him to be patient and Natsume would warm up to him, and it’s working.

And speaking of new friends, when he reach the school, Sasada is waiting for him at the gate.

“Good morning,” he greets.

“Tanuma-kun,” Sasada greets back. She falters, distracted as the shy girl passes them. Sasada looks like she wants to talk to the girl, but the girl hurries away from them.

“You know her?” Kaname asks. He thought maybe the shy girl was new, too, since she doesn’t seem to talk to anyone. He tried to talk to her his first week here, as one awkward new student to another. But she didn’t want to talk to him, either.

“That’s Taki Tooru,” Sasada sighs. “We used to be friends. But after my dad—“ Grief flashes across her face. “Anyway. Now that I’m feeling better, I was hoping to patch things up with her. I stopped by her house after I visited you, but she wouldn’t talk to me. I guess she can’t forgive me.”

“Maybe it’s something she’s dealing with, not you,” Kaname offers. He just learned that lesson himself, with Natsume. “She doesn’t seem to be talking to anyone.”

“She’s not?” Sasada asks, surprised. She turns to look for Taki, but the shy girl is already inside. “That’s strange.” She turns back to him. “How’s Natsume?”

“Aren’t you in class with him all day?”

“Yeah, but— You know how he is. He seemed okay at first yesterday, but then—“ Sasada glances around to make sure no one is close enough to overhear, then gestures for Kaname to step back with her to a safe distance from the gate. “You know how he gets scared all of a sudden? I think there was something in the classroom.”

“I thought you don’t like spooky stuff,” Kaname says. He’s forgiven Sasada, and he’s happy to consider her a friend, but if she’s going to keep pushing Natsume about spirits—

“I don’t,” Sasada protests. “Honestly I don’t. It’s just— Now that I know— I’m worried about him. Aren’t you worried?”

He is, of course he is. Even people who have no idea about the spirits are worried about Natsume. But at that trial of courage, Natsume was so brave. He and Sasada saved everyone. Kaname’s been jumping at shadows his whole life, but Natsume has an actual spirit bodyguard.

But then he thinks about what he saw in Natsume’s eyes that night. All that hurt and resignation.

“Yeah,” he admits. “Look, I want to help him, too. But he doesn’t want us involved with all that.” That was what Kaname agreed to, to just do normal friend stuff with Natsume. To not talk about the spirits, no matter how much Kaname wants to.

“But if he’s in danger—“ Sasada starts.

Sasada spent a year trying to help another student. That student turned out to be a luck god, but she didn’t know that at first. She went around the whole school trying to find him. Yes, because he helped her, but mostly because she was worried about him. To her, he was a strange boy who needed help.

And now there’s another strange boy who needs help, and she sits in class with him every day. She’s not going to give up until she knows Natsume is okay. But Natsume is not remotely okay. And if Kaname’s own life is any guide, Natsume might never be okay. Spirits are everywhere all the time, and that’s never going to change.

“He is,” Kaname admits. Better to just acknowledge the truth. “But what can we even do, if we can’t see what he sees? We don’t want what happened at the trial to happen again.”

It’s playing dirty, bringing that up. But Sasada’s meddling did almost get all of them killed by an angry god. Kaname hopes his dad is treading more carefully with his own Natsume meddling.

“I guess you’re right,” Sasada says, reluctantly.

“He wants us to treat him normally,” Kaname tells her. “That’s what will help him right now. And if we show him he can trust us, then maybe he’ll let us help him more.”

Maybe. Kaname hopes so, at least.

“All right,” Sasada sighs. “But can I still talk to you, if I’m worried?”

“Of course,” Kaname says. “That’s what friends are for, right?” At least that’s what he’s been told.

Sasada seems happy with that. Then she reaches into her bag. “That reminds me, I wanted to give you this.” She holds out an envelope with the name Reiko written on the front. “Can you please give this to your friend? I wanted to thank her for all her help.”

“Of course,” Kaname says, accepting the letter.

He’ll have to give it to Natsume later, when he can get a moment alone with him. Hopefully Natsume will have Ponta with him after school again. He’s mostly sure the cat doesn’t fall under Natsume’s spirit ban, since Ponta lives with Natsume and goes everywhere with him. Kaname really wants to see Ponta’s reaction to that letter.

They have to hurry in before school starts. They wave to each other as they split off to their respective classrooms.

Sitting in class, he looks over at Taki. She seems upset about something, or maybe scared. He thought she was just shy, but now—

Scared. She’s scared of something. The tension in her back, the way she keeps glancing around, not at the other students or the teacher, but at the windows and the empty corners.

Kaname goes very still.

No. It can’t be. What are the odds that this little town, that their grade would have a third person sensitive to spirits? Surely not. Even Sasada can’t actually perceive spirits, Shigure-sama just happened to reveal himself to her. And Sasada knows Taki, she would have told him if Taki could sense spirits.

He must be projecting his own experiences, primed for it after meeting Natsume. There’s no way that Taki can see spirits, too. Absolutely no way. Whatever she’s upset about, it’s something normal, it has to be.

Maybe he should try to talk to her again anyway. Whatever problem she’s having, it has nothing to do with him, so that could make him easier to talk to.

He stops himself right there. He’s as bad as Sasada and his dad, wanting to meddle in this girl’s life when she clearly doesn’t want any help and he has no idea what he could be getting into.

Taki isn’t Natsume. She must have family and all kinds of people in her life from having grown up here. She doesn’t need some random classmate invading her personal life. Kaname is already busy having four entire friends, and all the complications that’s bringing.

Maybe Sasada will sort it out, now that she’s trying to be friends with Taki again. Yes, that’s perfect. Meddling with Taki will keep her too busy to meddle with Natsume. Kaname feels rather proud of himself for solving both problems at once.

His good mood is somewhat squashed by the announcement of an upcoming math test. Math is not remotely Kaname’s strongest subject. His brain is so rarely in any condition for all that memorizing and formulas.

He usually gets tutoring from the monks they live with. If it wasn’t for them he would have failed so many tests and probably entire classes, with all his absences. But right now it’s just him and his dad at the temple. It’s weird living practically alone, and having all those rooms to rattle around in. Especially at night when there’s no visitors.

But the arrival of lunchtime puffs his mood back up. He heads right to the roof, and gets there so fast he’s actually the first to arrive. But just a couple minutes later he hears footsteps on the stairs, and then the roof door creaks as it swings open.

“Tanuma!” Kitamoto calls, cheerful. Nishimura walks out after him, and then—

“Hey,” Kaname greets, as happy as he was this morning.

Natsume smiles back, but immediately Kaname realizes something is wrong. He hasn’t seen much of Natsume’s real smiles yet, but he knows the fake ones. Immediately he wonders if Natsume really was injured by his fall yesterday and just hid it, and they should have listened to Nishimura.

“Everything okay?” Kaname asks, as he tries to figure out if Natsume is holding himself like he’s injured. They did have that fall down the stairs just a few days ago. Kaname’s still sore himself, though not enough to get in the way of their bike ride. But he didn’t follow up one fall with another.

“Absolutely not,” Nishimura declares, intercepting the question. “If I fail the math test on Friday, my mom will make me start going to cram school.”

“You have it too?” Kaname asks. Everyone sits down and starts pulling out their lunches, so he does the same. Is Natsume upset about the test?

“Same teachers, same schedule,” Kitamoto says. “Are you good with math? Maybe you can tutor us.”

“Sorry, I need a tutor myself,” Kaname admits. Should he mention the monks? It might be too weird. Sometimes people disapprove of how his dad raised him. But temples have always been his home, and the monks in them have always been his family.

Nishimura groans. “But you look so smart! We need a smart friend.”

Kitamoto elbows him. Nishimura elbows him back, and then somehow that leads to Kitamoto holding Nishimura in a headlock while Nishimura slaps at him.

“Um,” Kaname says, alarmed. He looks over to Natsume, and sees that he’s alarmed too. “Should we do something?”

“I don’t know,” Natsume admits, at a loss.

But then Kitamoto lets Nishimura go. Nishimura huffs at him, annoyed, and makes a face at him. Kitamoto makes a face back.

“You’re a mess,” Kitamoto chides, gesturing at Nishimura’s rumpled hair and clothes.

“You messed me up!” Nishimura protests.

“Don’t be a jerk,” Kitamoto says.

“You’re a jerk,” Nishimura says. “Gimme some of your bento, I want it.”

“You’re always mooching,” Kitamoto says.

“I’m hungry!” Nishimura says.

Finally, Kaname sees a way to help. “Um. I brought something for everyone.”

Nishimura eagerly turns to him. “More senbei?”

“Actually, I made grilled onigiri,” Kaname says, and unwraps his bento. Maybe Natsume was telling the truth about saving his senbei for later, but just in case, Kaname wanted to bring something Natsume would definitely like. And who doesn’t like grilled rice balls?

Kaname made them himself, too, while his dad made his bento his morning.

“I take it back, you’re a genius,” Nishimura says, and immediately starts devouring his. “Are you gonna bring snacks for us every day?” he asks, with his mouth full.

“Don’t be greedy,” Kitamoto chides.

“Not every day,” Kaname admits. He holds the container out to Natsume. “I hope you like this better.”

Natsume’s eyes go wide, and he blushes. “You didn’t have to— I did eat the senbei, they were very good.”

“Great,” Kaname says, very relieved to hear that. “I hope you like this too. I made it myself.”

Natsume takes the onigiri and holds it like it’s something precious. Kaname wonders if he’s going to save it for later, too. But then he takes a delicate bite.

Is he— Is Natsume going to cry?!

Oh no, is he forcing himself to eat the onigiri too? Is Kaname accidentally bullying him?

But then Natsume smiles. It’s small and his eyes are damp, but it’s genuine. He actually seems happy.

It’s another victory for Kaname. And another piece of Natsume to puzzle over.

Kaname eats his own onigiri too, and everyone relaxes.

Kaname makes a mental note to tell his dad that Nishimura seems a little neglected. Not that he wants to encourage his dad’s meddling in his friends’ lives. And Nishimura seems okay otherwise.

But Kaname’s spent his life helping his dad help others. And not having enough food is rarely a good sign. There’s plenty of mundane, unfortunately common reasons why a child could be neglected. He hopes it’s nothing too bad.

At least Natsume doesn’t seem to have any problem with that. His bento is absolutely packed with food, and Kaname got to taste how delicious it is himself. He can understand why Natsume might end up saving some of it for later, especially with the extra food yesterday. He did bring his leftovers with him on their bike ride.

Kaname tells himself to stop fretting. It’s not very normal to worry about what Natsume eats. Even though his arms felt alarmingly thin wrapped around Kaname’s waist on their bike ride.

Not that his arms were what Kaname noticed most. With Natsume right up against him that whole time, his powerful spirit-feeling was overwhelming. Kaname was sure he was going to end up with a migraine, but his head only hurt in brief spikes during their ride as they passed some suspicious shadows, and it didn’t hurt at all afterwards.

He felt it even after he went home. That strong feeling lingered in his chest all night, even into morning as he made the onigiri and walked to school. It finally faded during his morning classes. But sitting close to Natsume now, he feels it again.

If being around Natsume was going to set off a migraine or a fever, that bike ride certainly would have done it. For whatever reason, the spirit-feeling Natsume gives off doesn’t hurt him.

It’s not the only spirit-feeling that doesn’t hurt Kaname. Temples and shrines are full of spiritual energy, and if they gave him migraines his entire life would have been very different. But it’s so intense. And it’s not coming from a holy site but a living breathing person.

Kaname hasn’t mentioned it to his dad yet because he wants to talk to Natsume about it first. But he can’t do that in front of Nishimura and Kitamoto. Maybe if he offers to walk home with Natsume after school, to help him with his bike riding or his garden...

“We should get together after school today,” Kitamoto says. “We don’t need tutors if all four of us help each other.”

“But I wanna go fishing,” Nishimura complains.

“We’ll go fishing tomorrow,” Kitamoto says.

“Fine,” Nishimura says. “But we have to do it at your place, if I even breathe too loud my mom yells at me for bothering my brother.”

“We can’t do at it my place, my dad’s sick again,” Kitamoto says. “Natsume, how about your place? Your house is pretty big.”

“How do you know that?” Natsume asks, wary.

“This town is tiny,” Kitamoto points out.

“Yeah, we’ve seen every square centimeter,” Nishimura laments. “I can’t wait to live somewhere totally new. Honestly, I can’t believe you guys chose to move here.”

“The Fujiwaras are nice,” Kitamoto tells Kaname. “Touko-san’s always helped out with the school bake sales.” He turns back to Natsume. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Natsume does not seem eager to find out if the Fujiwaras will mind.

“We could use my place,” Kaname offers. “The temple has plenty of room.”

“Oh, now that’s cool,” Nishimura says, perking up.

“Works for me,” Kitamoto says.

“My place is fine!” Natsume says, urgently. Then he quiets, embarrassed. “I mean. You’re welcome to come over. If you want.”

Kitamoto and Nishimura are both pleasantly surprised. “Great! Tanuma, how about we do your place next time?”

“Great,” Kaname says.

Next time. His frustration over once again missing out on alone time with Natsume pales compared to his excitement over having friends to regularly study with.

He wonders, though, why Natsume doesn’t want to go to the temple. Is his dad up to something already? He said he wanted to leave Kaname out of it for now, so as not to interfere with his friendship with Natsume. But his dad told Natsume about Kaname the moment they met, in the fields of Yatsuhara with a bunch of spirits.

His dad wanting to keep things separate seems about as realistic as Natsume never wanting to talk about spirits again. But for now Kaname will go along with both of them.

Chapter Text

On the walk from school to Natsume’s house, Kitamoto and Nishimura do a sequel to their town tour, this time focused on the Fujiwara family. They tell Kaname that the Fujiwaras are one of the older families in the area, and they used to own a bunch of farmland that got bought up and turned into houses.

Over the years, most of the family moved north, following opportunities in the cities, leaving only Shigeru-san and his wife in the big family home. Everyone expected them to have lots of kids but it never happened. The whole family’s still pretty well-off, and Shigeru-san works as some kind of civil engineer.

Natsume doesn’t contribute any information of his own, despite the fact that he lives with the couple. In fact, all of this seems just as new to him as it is to Kaname.

He wonders if Natsume’s relationship with the Fujiwaras is like his relationship with Ponta. Natsume was surprised when the cat turned into a girl. Given Natsume’s whole — everything — maybe it’s to be expected that he doesn’t know his foster parents well yet either.

But it surprises Kaname anyway. Moving around so much, he’s met and lived with so many people. And while he often doesn’t feel up to socializing, he’s always made an effort to connect, to get to know them. It’s easier with adults than with his peers, too. Does Natsume not like the Fujiwaras? Does he not get along with them?

Those questions are somewhat answered when they reach the Fujiwara house and Touko-san cheerfully greets them.

“Takashi-kun, you brought your friends over? How wonderful!”

“I’m sorry,” Natsume says, bowing in apology and visibly cringing. “I don’t want to disturb you. If it’s too much trouble—“

“Don’t be silly,” Touko-san says, warmly. “Kaname-kun, are you feeling better? We were worried about you. Migraines are so awful.”

“Much better, thank you,” Kaname says. “Thank you for the soup, it was delicious.”

“Satoru-kun, Atsushi-kun,” Touko-san greets. “You boys get taller every time I see you! Atsushi-kun, I heard your father isn’t feeling well again. Do you think he’s up to visitors? Shigeru and I want to stop by. Perhaps a little soup would be help him, too?”

“Maybe tomorrow?” Kitamoto says. “Thanks, Touko-san. I’m sure your visit will help.”

“Tomorrow it is,” Touko-san agrees. “Now which one of you boys gave Takashi-kun those delicious fish last week?”

“Fish?” Nishimura asks, confused. He looks at Kitamoto, but Kitamoto shrugs, just as confused.

“We have to go study!” Natsume says, urgently, and starts pushing Nishimura out of the entryway.

“Wait, my shoes!” Nishimura says, resisting. But Natsume keeps pushing so Nishimura has to quickly toe off his shoes as he’s forced towards the stairs.

Touko-san looks after Natsume wistfully. Then she smiles at Kaname and Kitamoto. “You boys are studying together?”

“Yeah, we have a math test,” Kitamoto says. “Thanks for letting us study here.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Touko-san says, genuinely. “If you’re still here when Shigeru gets home, I’m sure he’d be happy to help. He’s very good with numbers.”

“That would be great!” Kitamoto says.

“You go get started and I’ll make you all a snack,” Touko-san says. “I just picked up a fresh watermelon today. Kaname-kun, do you like watermelon?”

“Sure!” Kaname says.

“I’ll cut some and bring it up,” Touko-san says. She clasps her hands together. “I’m so happy you came! You boys are all welcome here any time. Now go have fun.” She gently shoos them upstairs.

Kaname’s certainly met people who act pleasantly in public but are cruel in private. But Touko-san is unquestionably one of the nicest people Kaname’s ever met, and even has Nishimura and Kitamoto vouching for her. So why did Natsume act like he doesn’t think she’s nice at all? Like he expected her to be angry with him?

He doesn’t think someone as kind as Touko-san would be married to someone cruel. And Shigeru-san seemed to genuinely care about Natsume when they picked him up after the trial of courage.

Kaname had thought all that pain he saw in Natsume that night was just about the spirits hurting him. But he’s starting to think it’s more than that.

There’s more to this house, too. It’s as full of spirit-feeling as any temple. It definitely feels like Natsume, but also like his cat, their two spirit-feelings mixed together. The feeling gets even stronger as he reaches Natsume’s room.

It makes Kaname wonder about himself. Does he have a spirit-feeling too? Until Natsume he hadn’t even considered the idea. And even if he had, there wasn’t anyone he could ask.

He has so many questions he can’t ask Natsume yet. But it’s like he told Sasada. If he treats Natsume normally, maybe Natsume will feel able to open up to him about all the not-normal things they both share.

And maybe he’s doing better than he thought, given how Natsume is with everyone else, even Touko-san.

“I’ve never been up here before,” Kitamoto says, looking around as he steps into Natsume’s room.

“You’ve been to this house?” Kaname asks.

“Yeah, a few times, with my parents,” Kitamoto says. “It was years ago though.”

“Your room has a way better view than mine,” Nishimura says, looking out the large windows.

Kaname looks around the room. There’s plenty of space, a few pieces of furniture and not much else. It’s not so much tidy as just empty.

Kaname doesn’t have a lot of stuff himself, between moving a lot and living with people who follow an ascetic path. But he does have some stuff. If Natsume has anything, it must be tucked away somewhere.

Natsume reaches for a square table that’s propped up against the wall and Nishimura helps him, and they place it in the middle of the room.

Natsume stands there and looks completely at a loss for what to do. But Kitamoto quickly takes the lead and they all settle around the table with their math books and notebooks, and start to go over the material.

A few minutes in, there’s a knock on the door, and then Touko-san enters with a large plate loaded with watermelon slices, and a stack of napkins. Ponta follows in after her, and rubs against her ankles, doing a passable imitation of an actual housecat.

“You boys eat up,” Touko-san says, cheerfully, as she puts everything on the table. “Oh! Let me bring you some cushions, so you’ll be more comfortable.”

“I’ll help!” Natsume says, springing to his feet. He follows her out.

Nishimura immediately starts eating watermelon, then Kitamoto takes a slice. Kaname reaches for one, and then sees Ponta staring at him, expectant.

Should he— Give the cat a slice?

“Can cats eat watermelon?” he asks.

Kitamoto looks at Ponta, then shrugs. “Natsume feeds Nyanko-sensei all kinds of stuff.”

Kitamoto grabs a slice and puts it on a napkin, and puts that on the floor in front of Ponta. Ponta shoves his paws under the wedge, propping it up, and starts eating.

Kaname knows the cat is a spirit. He’s seen it turn into a girl. But this is still extremely weird. And Nishimura and Kitamoto are just fine with it. It’s just another Natsume thing they somehow take completely in stride.

Natsume and Touko-san return with arms full of pillows, including one for Ponta to sit on.

“Sensei, you have seeds on your face again,” Natsume tells the cat. Instead of brushing them off the cat, he gestures at his own face.

Ponta reaches up a paw and flicks off the seeds. Then he saunters onto the pillow and makes himself comfortable.

The whole cat thing makes Kaname feel a little insane. Natsume doesn’t want to talk about spirits, barely wants to talk at all, but he’s just fine with his spirit bodyguard cat master being very publicly not a normal cat. Maybe the cat is just another Hitoyoshi special to them, another weird thing that no one can explain and no one really wants to explain, in this magical yet boring town.

Fine. Whatever. Kaname takes a slice of watermelon and eats it. It is, of course, delicious.

They while away the afternoon, alternately studying and taking breaks. They make good progress together, and by the end of it Kaname feels like he’ll actually do well on the test. Somewhere during all this Natsume seems to have relaxed and started to enjoy himself, despite all the math. Ponta ended up splayed out on his pillow, snoring and full of watermelon.

“This was great!” Nishimura says. He stands and gives a big stretch. “If we keep this up maybe I won’t have to go to cram school this year.”

“Maybe we can do it once a week,” Kitamoto suggests. “Go over whatever’s hardest.”

“Great!” Kaname says. “My place next time?”

“Definitely,” Nishimura says.

“I had fun,” Natsume says, quietly happy. “Thank you.”

Kitamoto and Nishimura head home, but Kaname stays behind. He still has a letter to deliver, after all.

Finally, he’s alone with Natsume. And Ponta.

“Thanks for this,” Kaname says.

“I didn’t do anything,” Natsume protests. He’s starting to look nervous again.

Kaname decides to get to the point before Natsume clams up entirely. “I have something for you.” He reaches for his bag and pulls out Sasada’s letter, and hands it over.

Natsume stares at it and goes pale.

“Actually it’s for your cat,” Kaname says. “From Sasada? She wanted to thank Reiko for helping out, at the trial.”

Ponta’s ears twitch and he opens one eye. “I’m not Reiko,” he says.

“Well, not right now,” Kaname says. “But when you’re a girl, you’re Reiko, right?”

Ponta harumphs and gets to his feet. To his two feet, standing on his hind legs and using his front legs as arms. “I told you, it’s Nyanko-sensei to you! Treat me with respect or I’ll make you my next snack!”

“Sensei!” Natsume chides. “Stop threatening to eat people!” He turns to Kaname. “He won’t eat you.”

“I’ll definitely eat you,” Ponta says, with a gleeful smirk. He opens his mouth wide, then alarmingly wide.

Natsume walks over and bops Ponta on the head with his fist. It doesn’t look like it should do much, not with Natsume’s thin arms, but the cat actually keels over, dazed.

Kaname rushes over to the cat. “Is he okay?!”

“He’s fine,” Natsume says, unconcerned. His suffocating politeness and anxiety are gone, just like that. Like when they were at the trial and spirits started appearing. The change in him is just as startling now as it was then.

As if proving Natsume’s point, Ponta springs right back up, apparently unharmed.

“Why does Sasada think he’s Reiko?” Natsume asks Kaname. All day Natsume’s barely been able to meet Kaname’s eyes, but now he looks at him directly, intimidating.

“She asked what the girl’s name was,” Kaname defends. “I thought that’s what you call him when he’s her?”

“Reiko’s his grandmother,” Ponta says.

“Sensei!” Natsume chides again.

With a poof, the cat transforms into his Reiko form. Or girl form, whatever. “You gonna hit a girl?” he taunts.

Natsume looks like he just might.

Girl-Ponta takes the letter from Natsume and opens it, reads it. “Mm, she’s very grateful. I bet I could get some offerings out of her.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Natsume warns.

“Fine, fine,” Girl-Ponta says, and poofs back into a cat.

The letter flutters to the floor. Natsume picks it up and holds it close. He reads it intently, then looks relieved.

“I didn’t tell her anything about your cat,” Kaname promises. “She thinks Reiko is a friend of mine from out of town.”

Natsume eases again. He folds the letter neatly, puts it back in the envelope, and puts it on the table, next to his math book. But then he picks it up again, nervousness returning. He looks around as if trying to decide where to put it, or hide it, like he’s apparently hidden everything else he owns.

“I’m sorry,” Kaname says, feeling like he messed up, even though he was trying to protect Natsume.

“It’s fine,” Natsume says. But he doesn’t look fine.

Kaname tries to figure out what to say to salvage this. “So um, is that what Reiko actually looks like? I thought you looked related.”

“My grandmother is dead,” Natsume says, flatly.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Kaname says. Great move, bringing up a dead grandmother. If Natsume’s grandmother was still alive, surely he’d be living with her, not a couple he barely knows. “Was it recent?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Kaname says. “Well. My dad’s helping organize the Obon festival here this year. I don’t know if her grave’s anywhere nearby, but I could pray to her with you. Or hang a lantern. Put out offerings?”

Natsume stares at him again, but this time it’s with utter disbelief.

“Why?” Natsume asks, bluntly, baffled.

“Because she’s your grandmother?” Kaname says. “If she’s important to you, I want to honor her.” It feels like the least he can do. “Were you close?”

“I never met her,” Natsume says.

That raises so many questions, on top of all his other questions. He turns to Ponta, looking for help, but the cat just stares back at him. Maybe waiting to see how badly Kaname crashes and burns.

But just when Kaname is braced for the worst, Natsume softens again.

“Thank you,” Natsume says. “It’s very kind of you to offer. My grandmother—“

There’s a long pause, but Kaname just waits.

“I don’t really know much about her,” Natsume finally continues. “But she was like me. Like us. I don’t—“ He swallows. “I don’t want to talk about that part of her life.”

“That’s fine,” Kaname soothes, giving his curiosity a firm shove down. “Is there a part of her life you do want to talk about?”

Again Natsume seems bewildered. “I don’t know. No one’s ever asked.”

“Well, I’m asking,” Kaname says, softening his words with a gentle smile. He can see that— That having a family member who shared their world is important to Natsume. Even though they were never able to meet. It would have been important to Kaname, if he had that.

“I don’t know,” Natsume says again. “I inherited some of her things. I haven’t really gone through them.”

Kaname’s helped his dad with funeral rites and tended to graves. He knows grief when he sees it. And he knows grieving shouldn’t be done alone.

“We could look at them together?” Kaname offers.

He assumes it’s something they might do in the future, when Natsume is ready. But to his surprise, Natsume is ready right now. He goes to his closet and opens it, and pulls out a wicker box.

“These are her things,” Natsume says. He stares down at it, then puts it on the table.

Kaname glances at Ponta again. He has the sense that the cat is— Approving might not be the right word. But he’s choosing to let this play out.

Sometimes Natsume is determined and in control. Sometimes he fades into the background. Right now he’s startlingly vulnerable, and all Kaname wants to do is take care of him.

Natsume pulls off the lid.

The wicker box is neatly packed. There’s some wrapped parcels, some books. A couple of child’s toys. School supplies, an abacus and a ruler.

“She died young,” Natsume says, looking down at the toys. “She had a daughter. My mother. She died young, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Kaname says. “I lost my mom when I was young. Was your mom like us?”

“No,” Natsume says. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He picks up a book, opens it. There’s a library book card.

“Isn’t that from the library here?” Kaname asks, surprised to recognize the name.

“Reiko lived here, for a while,” Natsume says. “In Hitoyoshi.”

“Seriously? That’s amazing!”

“Sensei knew her,” Natsume says. “That’s why he can take her shape.”

Kaname looks at the cat again. The cat stares back.

Natsume hands Kaname the library book, and as he does, something falls out of it.

Kaname picks it up. “A train ticket? From Moriguchi to Kiriganuma.” He hands it to Natsume.

“Are those stations near here?” Natsume asks.

“Dunno, but we can ask,” Kaname says. “You want to go there, check it out?”

“Maybe,” Natsume says, considering. “I might go tomorrow. But you don’t have to come.”

“I want to,” Kaname says, genuinely. “Besides, it’s just the train. What could be more normal than that? And it’ll help us learn the area better. I think we’ll be all right without our tour guides.”

Natsume cracks a smile at that. Another small, genuine one. “That does sound nice. You really don’t mind?”

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Kaname says, and this time he feels the truth of it.

Natsume looks down at the box of his grandmother’s belongings. He puts the few items that they took out back in, just as they were, then puts the lid back on. He seems to be done with it for now. How long has he had this box and been unable to go through it?

“Can I give you a hand?” Kaname asks, reaching for the box.

Natsume hesitates, then nods.

Kaname carries the box back to the closet. He slides it inside, and takes a quick peek at what else is in the closet. There isn’t much, just a folded futon and a cardboard box. Does Natsume really have so little? Just this and his school things and his clothes in the dresser?

His grandmother’s things must mean a lot to him. His grandmother must mean a lot.

Kaname smiles as he closes the closet door.

When they go downstairs, Shigeru-san is back from work.

“Kaname-kun,” Shigeru-san greets, pleased to see him. “Did you two have a good study session?”

“Yeah, it was really great,” Kaname says. And despite the sad things he’s learned, he really is happy about this afternoon. And about tomorrow.

Should he tell the Fujiwaras about their trip? Kaname will tell his dad when he gets home, and he feels like he should mention it to the Fujiwaras. But Natsume was so wary about Touko-san earlier. Better to leave it to Natsume.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Shigeru-san asks. “You’re welcome to join us.”

“I need to get home before dark,” Kaname says. There’s always spirits around, but they tend to be more active at night. He doesn’t want to get a migraine or a fever and miss his math test after all that studying.

“I could give you a ride home?” Shigeru-san offers.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay,” Kaname says. “Thank you again for the watermelon, Touko-san.”

“Say hello to your father for us,” Touko-san says.

Natsume walks Kaname to the door, and they wave goodbye to each other.

On the way home, Kaname feels topped-up with spirit-feeling again, from both Natsume and Ponta. Now that he’s not afraid it will give him a migraine, it’s oddly soothing. It feels— Safe. Natsume feels safe, somehow, and so does Ponta.

Ponta knew Natsume’s grandmother. That’s a piece of information that he’s definitely going to share with his dad tonight.

Chapter Text

Takashi watches as Tanuma goes down the path and out the front gate, then turns onto the street and walks out of view.

It hurts to see him go. Takashi has a sudden urge to pull on his shoes and run after him. What if something happens? What if he never sees Tanuma again?

Tanuma doesn’t have a bodyguard like Nyanko-sensei. Should he send Nyanko-sensei after him? Does Tanuma know that shrines are safe places? Even if they can’t talk about the spirits, he needs to tell Tanuma about the shrines. And make extra offerings for him.

Takashi should have agreed to study at the temple today, then Tanuma wouldn’t have to walk home alone. If something happens—

He rushes back upstairs, but Nyanko-sensei isn’t in his room anymore. He rushes back downstairs, and of course Nyanko-sensei is in the kitchen, waiting eagerly for Touko-san to finish cooking.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Shigeru-san tells him. He’s already setting the table. He turns to Takashi. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Takashi says, and shoves down his panic. “I’m sorry.” He forces himself to sit down, to be still, to smile. It’s fine. Tanuma’s fine, he’ll walk home and be fine.

But Shigeru-san is still looking at him with gentle concern. “You should give Tanuma a call after dinner, make sure he got home safe.”

Takashi stares at him, startled. How did he know?

“I don’t want to bother him,” Takashi protests.

“I’ll give Kousuke-san a call myself, then,” Shigeru-san says.

Takashi wants to insist that he’ll call Tanuma himself after all. But he can’t. After everything that just happened, he can’t.

He told Tanuma about Reiko. He showed him Reiko’s things. Not the Book, absolutely not the Book, but everything else.

He’s never shown them to anyone. He’s barely looked at them himself, aside from a few weeks ago to find the Book. He’s carried them from place to place for years, the wicker box too big to fit into his cardboard one, much less get shoved to the bottom of it.

The letter from Sasada. He has to put that there, along with Tanuma-san’s letter. Unless Nyanko-sensei wants to keep it. It was addressed to him, after all.

A letter for Reiko. It’s bad enough every yokai here thinks he’s his grandmother. He’ll have to forbid Nyanko-sensei from using her form again.

Though he doubts the cat will obey him. He can’t believe Nyanko-sensei told Tanuma who Reiko was, just like that. He does whatever he wants without thinking about the consequences.

This is what Takashi gets for having a live-in yokai bodyguard. It was a lot easier when the cat couldn’t talk to any humans but him. Now he’s talking to Tanuma and Tanuma-san, and he’ll probably start chatting with Sasada next just to mooch more food off her. And then what? Touko-san and Shigeru-san? And then his life here will be over, and will Nyanko-sensei be sorry about it? Takashi very much doubts it.

Touko-san carries over dinner, and Takashi shoves everything down and smiles for her. It’s fine. He’s fine. He has to cherish all the good things he has while he has them. Getting upset only makes him lose them faster.

Somehow he makes it through dinner, and then excuses himself and hurries up to his room without even waiting to hear if Tanuma arrived home safely. He picks up Sasada’s letter and puts it with Tanuma-san’s letter. If he lets Nyanko-sensei decide what happens to it he’ll just leave it out for anyone to find.

He sits down and takes the ticket out of his pocket. He doesn’t know why Reiko had a ticket she never used, or what she wanted to do there. But her unfinished business is now his burden to carry. And it seems like she left behind more than just the Book.

What if it has to do with a yokai? He shouldn’t have agreed to the trip with Tanuma, but he can’t take it back now. Tanuma is so excited for it. Tanuma wants to honor Reiko with him for Obon.

Every human Takashi’s ever talked to about Reiko has had nothing but awful things to say about her. Mostly the same things they say about him, that she was difficult and crazy and a troublemaking burden. But sometimes worse things, about having a child without a husband. That she was irresponsible and careless and a bad mother, even though she barely got to be a mother at all. That she deserved what she got, dying young, and should have died younger, and that it was her fault her daughter died young, too.

People don’t usually talk about his mom, except to say that they wish his dad had never married her, never had a kid with her. It’s not just Takashi who’s a mistake, it’s his whole line.

But Tanuma was kind about them. Tanuma is so kind and patient, and it’s going to hurt so much to lose him. When it happens, Takashi will have to never think about him ever again, it will hurt too much. It already hurts.

The door to his room slides opens, and Takashi startles and tries to dry his eyes with the back of his hand. But it’s only Nyanko-sensei, and he slides the door shut behind him with the flick of a back paw.

When Nyanko-sensei sees Takashi, his eyes narrow. “What’s wrong? I thought you were happy doing all those normal things.”

“It’s nothing,” Takashi says.

“Obviously it’s something,” Nyanko-sensei says. He sits down next to Takashi and licks his paw, grooms his muzzle. Then he gives Takashi an inspecting look. Right into his soul.

“You knew Reiko,” Takashi says. “Was she—“

He can’t finish the question. What could he even ask? Does he want to know the answer?

He’s seen Reiko for himself. The Book means he’ll see her again and again until he dies and passes the Book to Nyanko-sensei. He knows what a lot of yokai think about Reiko. But what do yokai know about humans?

“Never mind,” he says, and shoves the ticket back into his pocket.

This is why he keeps the wicker box closed.

He opened it when he first inherited it, and the people he was living with looked inside and said it was worthless junk he should throw away. But it was all he had left of his family, aside from a photo he couldn’t look at and a house he couldn’t visit. Still can’t.

After that he kept it closed. Checked on it once in a while to make sure nothing had been disturbed or thrown away by the people he was living with. He tries to not have things, because they take up too much space and bother the people he lives with. And when people get angry with him, they take things away from him. It’s better to have nothing at all.

It was such a mistake to let Sasada see the Book. When she gets angry with him again she’s going to make sure it’s taken away, too. He has to protect it. He’s responsible for all the lives inside it. Lives Reiko bound to it, for reasons he barely understands.

Takashi never tried to understand his grandmother or the life she lived. He doesn’t want to think about her. But the Book forces him to see her almost every day.

He’s never put out a lantern for her at Obon, or left offerings. He did for his parents when he was very young, before it hurt too much to even think about them.

It did make him happy, when Tanuma offered to honor her. It made him so happy. But it hurts.

Nyanko-sensei gives a deep sigh and crawls right into his lap. And before Takashi can push him away, he starts purring, a deep rumble that goes right into Takashi’s bones.

“Sensei,” Takashi says, in half-hearted protest. He’s annoyed with the yokai for telling Tanuma about Reiko, he really is. Even though—

Even though Tanuma would never have made the offer without it.

Nyanko-sensei just keeps purring. He’s a soft ball of warmth in Takashi’s lap, somehow completely immovable despite his relatively small size. He’s put himself where he is and he’s staying, whether Takashi likes it or not.

Takashi pets Nyanko-sensei, and then ends up lying down, curled around him. The cat purrs and purrs, and feels so warm and soft. Takashi starts to nod off, but then Nyanko-sensei nudges him awake and tells him to get ready for bed.

Takashi doesn’t need a bed. He doesn’t need anything. But he drags himself up and changes, unrolls his futon, turns out the light. Nyanko-sensei crawls under the blanket with him and gets back to purring, and lulls Takashi right to sleep.

A knocking sound drags him awake in the middle of the night. The yokai at his bedroom window politely asks for its Name back, and Takashi blearily lets it in. Nyanko-sensei yawns and gives a perfunctory grumble about losing another page from the Book. Takashi yawns as he calls forth the page with its Name.

It isn’t obvious what kind of yokai it is just by looking at it. A lot of yokai are just humanoid shapes, often in kimono and masks. But when he blows the ink of the Name into the air, he receives the memories of a spring meadow.

It’s nothing like being Arasaki or the white crow. He is born among mountains and rises to meet the warming sun. His roots are sunk deep into welcoming soil, fixed and anchoring. His leaves grow and unfurl, basking, and rain covers him, seeps into the soil, and he drinks it up through countless tiny roots. There are creatures around him, large and small, all moving so much faster than him, taking and giving life in turns, and everything feels so connected.

When the time is right, he buds, flowers. Oh, his beautiful flowers! Insects dance through them, taking what he offers, sharing what they take from other flowers that are also his, because he is not one plant but a whole field of plants, the flush of spring growth given form, over and over through countless centuries.

Odamaki.

Why did Reiko take Odamaki’s Name? Why bind something so old and vast and wild? Just to abandon it forever?

Once freed, Odamaki thanks him and fades away, like Shigure-sama faded away, leaving this world behind and going somewhere beyond. Will it grow there in that other place? Will it flower here on the mountainside next spring, like it used to?

Either way, Takashi crawls back into bed and dreams of roots and flowers, sun and rain. Of existing in a single place forever, until a girl came and asked to play a game.

The next morning, he brings the ticket with him to school. He holds it in his hand as he walks with Kitamoto and Nishimura, keeping his hand in his pocket, and thinks about spending the afternoon with Tanuma.

It’s been decades since Reiko bought the ticket, and she never even used it. He doubts there’s anything to find at either Moriguchi or Kiriganuma. But it makes him happy to be able to share this tiny part of Reiko’s life with Tanuma. To walk in her footsteps with a human who considers her kindly, even if that’s only because Tanuma is such a kind person.

He hopes he’s still here in Hitoyoshi in August, for Obon. He really hopes so.

When they reach the school gate, Tanuma is there waiting for him. Kitamoto and Nishimura seem pleased by this, and happily go on ahead, leaving them alone.

“I checked the train schedules,” Tanuma says. “Both stations are on a line that goes south of here. It’s not far, but that line isn’t in service anymore.”

“Oh,” Takashi says, and tries to not be crushingly disappointed.

“But there’s a bus that stops at Moriguchi,” Tanuma says, with an air of triumph. “I checked the schedule. We can take it this afternoon.”

Takashi can’t even find the words to respond. They’re really going to do this, they’re going to visit Moriguchi together.

“It’ll be fun,” Tanuma says, smiling.

Takashi can’t help but smile, too.

Chapter Text

Kaname waits by the gate for Natsume after school ends. Just last week, when he did this, Natsume took one look at him and ran away. Today, Natsume sees him and waves, and smiles. A real smile, not the fake one he wears all day.

Kaname gives a very real smile back.

Neither he nor Natsume talked about their plans with Nishimura and Kitamoto over lunch, not wanting their friends to invite themselves along. This trip is special, just for the two of them. Normal, but special.

They start their walk to the bus stop together in companionable silence.

At Kaname’s suggestion, both of them left their school things at school, so they won’t have to drag all that around. But Kaname made sure to bring snacks and water, his migraine medication, and the bus schedule and map. And just in case, his dad knows where they’re going and why.

Kaname didn’t want to betray Natsume’s trust about Reiko. But they’re going to a decommissioned train station on a line that cuts along densely forested mountains. There are bound to be spirits nearby, though hopefully nothing as dangerous as an angry luck god. If one or both of them ends up getting sick, his dad has to know where they are so he can rescue them. And he trusts his dad completely.

But Kaname is hoping that nothing goes wrong. Once they’ve finished retracing Reiko’s footsteps, they can catch the bus home and make it back in time for dinner.

“So, uh,” Kaname starts, ready to get their conversation started. “What do you think she was planning to do there? Your grandmother?”

From the way Natsume immediately looks unhappy, it was the wrong thing to ask.

Right, it must have been— Reiko could see spirits, too. And if it was a spirit thing, Natsume doesn’t want to talk about it.

“I brought a map of the area, so we can plan some more sightseeing,” Kaname says, changing the topic. “Usually when we move somewhere, I visit tourist attractions with my dad.”

That perks Natsume up. “You move a lot?”

“Yeah,” Kaname says. “Every year or two. But Dad says this time we’re staying put. So I want to do all the things that aren’t what tourists do. All the boring stuff.”

Natsume cracks a smile at that.

“We traveled a lot because of my health,” Kaname says, trying to figure out how much he can talk about without talking about the source of his bad health. “Tried a lot of things. It was kind of my whole life, trying to not be sick. But if this is home now, I want to do everything else. Just live my life, you know?”

“Yes,” Natsume says, softly.

“How about you?” Kaname asks. “What do you want to do?”

Natsume takes a moment to answer. “I’d like to stay here for as long as I can. I like it here. Everyone is very kind.”

Kaname wants to ask if there’s a reason why Natsume would have to move again. But he thinks about how Natsume was with Touko-san, the way he cringed in fear of her. And it doesn’t feel like it’s a good idea to ask that.

“I hope you can stay for a long time,” Kaname says instead.

Natsume gets a little teary-eyed at that. Kaname doesn’t want to keep making Natsume cry, but at least he can recognize them as happy tears now.

“I brought snacks,” Kaname says, choosing a lighter topic.

“Nyanko-sensei will try to eat all of them,” Natsume warns him.

“Is it safe for him to eat people food?” Kaname asks, thinking of the watermelon.

Natsume shrugs. “He’s not actually a cat. But if you have food with you, you always have to give him some of it.”

“Sure,” Kaname agrees, glad he brought extra. “What does he like?”

“He’s always hungry,” Natsume says, with a hint of fond exasperation. “He likes sweets and fried foods. And sake. And sushi. And squid. Everything, really. But make sure he gets his offerings or he’ll never let you hear the end of it.”

Kaname thinks about what his dad usually puts out for his offerings. “Does he like mochi?”

“He likes dango better,” Natsume says. “And manju. Honestly, any kind of dumpling. I keep telling him I can’t spend all of my allowance on sweets for him, but he doesn’t listen.”

Kaname chuckles, and Natsume smiles again, and shakes his head.

When they reach the bus stop, Ponta is there waiting for them.

“Finally,” Ponta says. “You’re late, you know. You almost missed the bus.”

“Sorry,” Kaname says, as Natsume picks up the cat. And just as Ponta predicted, the bus pulls up a minute later.

It’s a small bus with a few other passengers. They travel past farm after farm, each trimmed with hedges, and the mountains rise behind them.

It’s beautiful and peaceful here. And sitting close to Natsume and Ponta fills Kaname up again with soothing spirit-feeling. Instead of pulling out his map, he and Natsume end up watching the scenery together, slipping back into companionable silence, just enjoying being together. Ponta dozes in Natsume’s lap, snoring softly.

After a few stops, they’re alone on the bus with the driver. The farms dwindle and the forest closes in, but the afternoon sun is still warm through the trees.

They reach their stop and get out. The Moriguchi station building is small and old-fashioned, obviously no longer in use though it appears that some maintenance is done to keep it from becoming derelict. There’s an empty box on the wall where a pay phone used to be mounted. There are rows of chairs by the building and more at the other end where the trains used to stop, to let passengers on and off. The track has grass and wildflowers growing up between the wooden ties.

It’s warm with the afternoon sun shining down on them. Kaname didn’t really expect to find anything here about Reiko, but he’s disappointed anyway. He wanted there to be something here, for Natsume’s sake.

Kaname rubs his head, feeling a slight ache. He was fine on the bus, even though the whole forest is full of spirits; traveling at speed usually means he isn’t exposed to anything long enough for it to bother him. Maybe enough small exposures have built up to affect him.

Then he realizes that Natsume has gone very still.

Natsume’s looking down at the far end of the station, at the empty chairs there. And Ponta’s looking there, too.

There must be a yokai.

“Natsume?” Kaname calls, softly.

“Don’t react,” Natsume tells him, not looking away from the chairs. “Turn away. Don’t look at it and it won’t know you can see it.”

Kaname obeys and turns away, but looks back out of the corner of his eye. Natsume isn’t taking his own advice and is cautiously approaching the chairs, with Ponta close beside him.

But just as Natsume gets near the chairs, he startles back, alarmed. “No, I’m—!”

“Hey, you’ve got it wrong,” Ponta tells the invisible yokai. “He’s not Reiko!”

And then to Kaname’s horrified shock, Natsume is yanked up into the air! The invisible yokai must be huge! Natsume cries out as he’s spun around. Kaname rushes over, and once he’s close enough, he can make out a large pale shadow where the yokai must be.

Natsume yelps and tries to squirm free. “No, I’m not Reiko! Do something, Sensei!”

Instead of springing to the rescue, Ponta lies down. “It’s pointless to say anything to him now. He’s not evil, so just play with him a bit.”

Natsume has stopped swinging around, but he’s still held in the air, with his feet dangling above the ground. “What are you—“ he yells at Ponta, but then he starts swinging around even worse than before.

Kaname steps back, completely at a loss. Then he gets angry. “Ponta! Do something!”

Ponta pointedly ignores him.

Fine. If that’s how it is— Kaname braces himself and rushes forward. He grabs at the shadow but of course touches nothing but air while Natsume yelps above him. His head aches more from what must be direct contact with the yokai, but he ignores it, and when Natsume’s legs swing into range, he jumps up and grabs them.

When Natsume swings up again, Kaname is pulled up with him. The world spins dizzyingly around them.

“Tanuma!” Natsume cries.

“Natsume!” Kaname cries.

“Unbelievable,” Ponta grumbles, and then with a poof, he disappears.

And then something even bigger than the yokai grabs Natsume and yanks him free, and pulls Kaname free with him. The force puts them down, and Kaname and Natsume end up sprawled together on the ground, both of them dizzy and groaning.

With a poof, Ponta reappears. “I told you he’s not Reiko!” he shouts, cranky. “She’s dead! He’s her grandson! Now sit down before I eat you!”

The shadow moves back and sits down on the chairs. The row of seats actually sags under the yokai’s weight.

“Natsume,” Kaname calls, struggling to sit up. Is Natsume hurt? How bad is it? And the thing that pulled them free— Was that somehow Ponta?!

“I’m okay,” Natsume says. He sits up, then turns to Kaname, upset. “I told you to stay back!”

“It was hurting you!” Kaname defends. “I had to do something!”

“No,” Natsume says, certain. “You have to go home, right now.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you here,” Kaname says, unable to even consider the idea. He stands and grabs Natsume’s hand. “Come on, we have to run. We’ll meet the next bus on the way back.”

“I can’t leave,” Natsume says, pulling his hand free. He pushes himself up, brushes himself off. “I have to stay.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” Kaname says.

“Fine,” Natsume says, icy. But he immediately looks regretful and miserable.

“Natsume,” Kaname says, worried.

“I don’t want you involved with this,” Natsume says, worried right back at him.

“Will both of you calm down already?” Ponta complains. “I told you, he’s harmless!”

“He was flinging Natsume around!” Kaname says, angry at Ponta. ‘He,’ as if Kaname can see anything but a shadow.

“He wasn’t trying to hurt me,” Natsume insists. “He was just excited. He thought I was Reiko. It happens sometimes.”

“All the time,” Ponta mutters.

“Don’t,” Natsume warns Ponta, sharply.

Ponta doesn’t reply, but seems faintly chastened.

“There’s something I have to do,” Natsume tells Kaname. “I can’t leave until I do it. And I can’t do it if you’re here.” He holds up a hand before Kaname can protest. “I’m not asking you to leave. But I need you to just— Go inside. Close the door. And stay there until I come get you. Please.”

Natsume looks at him so earnestly, so needing. Kaname doesn’t like any of this, but—

“How long will it take?” Kaname asks him.

“Not long,” Natsume promises. “Thank you. And please don’t watch. Please.”

“Will he be safe?” Kaname asks Ponta.

“Yes,” Ponta says, and despite the cat’s earlier negligence, Kaname believes him.

With a sigh, Kaname turns and walks into the station building, closes the door behind him. Just as he promised, he keeps his back turned, and doesn’t peek at whatever is going on out there.

While he’s waiting, he opens his bag and pulls out his migraine medication. He probably should have taken it before they left school. But he wanted a normal trip as much as Natsume did.

He’s used to spirits at the edge of his senses. He’s used to weird things and shadows and feelings and chills down his spine.

But he’s not used to full-on encounters with yokai, actual beings that can be interacted with and talked to, that can be sad and angry, or excited and confused. Because he can’t see spirits fully, he doesn’t think of them as fully real.

Natsume makes them real. He makes Kaname reconsider everything he thought he knew. About spirits, about the world, about himself.

Kaname is used to being the only person who can sense anything at all. Despite all the ways his ability hurts and isolates him, it also makes him feel special, connected. A part of something amazing that everyone else can only guess at. It gives him a purpose, makes him a guide to his dad and others, despite his reluctance for the role.

But compared to Natsume, he’s blind and deaf. He’s as oblivious and helpless as everyone else. He feels utterly shaken, and not only because he was spun through the air.

Kaname doesn’t turn around. He can’t hear what’s happening outside with the door closed. But he feels a burst of power from behind him, a wave of Natsume-feeling that’s strong even from a distance. And he knows that whatever Natsume is hiding, it’s big.

What did Sasada say about that night on the roof? Something about a book in Natsume’s waist pack? The same waist pack Natsume seemingly never takes off.

She said he used it to help Shigure-sama and make him go away. When Kaname goes back outside, will this yokai be gone too?

Finally the door slides open, and Natsume’s there. To Kaname’s alarm, he looks pale and tired.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking Natsume up and down for signs of injury. Like yesterday, after Natsume’s fall from his bike. Kaname thinks desperately of Nishimura’s heart attack quota.

“I’m fine,” Natsume says. “But I can’t leave yet. There’s something else I have to do.”

Kaname looks past him, and he can just make out that the shadow is still there. He turns back to Natsume. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

Natsume looks like explaining any of this is the last thing he wants to do. “If I tell you, will you go home?”

“I’ll think about it,” Kaname allows, which frankly is generous on his part.

Natsume gives a short nod, visibly braces himself. “The yokai’s name is Santo. He’s a sort of— Like a nutria or a capybara? Nyanko-sensei’s right, he doesn’t mean any harm. But my grandmother promised to help him with something. That’s why she had the ticket.”

“Oh,” Kaname says, softening.

“He’s been stuck waiting for her all this time,” Natsume says, and seems genuinely distressed about it. “I have to fulfill my grandmother’s promise and take him to Kiriganuma. And I have to do it now.” He looks like he might cry again, but not happy tears. “I’m sorry. I ruined our trip.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Kaname says, with feeling. “Look, I— I know it’s nothing compared to what you have to deal with, but— The spirits are why I get sick. I can’t touch them but they— Affect me. And if they’re mad or upset, if that’s why— I can’t help them or reason with them. I don’t have any way to make them stop.“

His dad has always been there for him, soothing the spirits when he could. And everyone else who knows about his ability, the monks and priests he’s lived with, they believe him and respect him, treat him as special, even though he’s spent his whole life trying to cut that specialness out of himself.

But they can’t see. No one else could see or feel anything, not until Natsume.

“I know your life is scary. But so is mine. I want to be normal, too,” Kaname continues, when Natsume still says nothing. “But I’m not. I’ve tried everything, but there’s nothing left to try. This is just how I am. I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry. He’s so sorry he made his dad drag him all over, sorry for the expense and disappointment, sorry for the grief and guilt he knows his dad feels. Sorry for all the things he’ll never be healthy enough for. He’s probably going to miss his math test from the migraine that’s brewing. They’ll let him make it up, but it’s just one more way he can’t keep up with everyone else, can’t do what everyone else does.

He can’t bear the thought that he isn’t good enough for Natsume, too.

Natsume’s expression is so difficult to read. He’s locked himself down tight. Kaname feels awful for burdening Natsume with all this when he’s already dealing with a yokai and his grandmother’s broken promise.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Natsume says, finally.

“I don’t want either of us to get hurt,” Kaname says. “But I guess that’s not something we can stop.”

Natsume does react to that, his eyes flickering with emotion.

“Do you know about shrines?” Natsume asks. “If something’s hurting you and you run to a shrine, it can’t follow you in.”

“It can’t?”

Natsume shakes his head. “Temples are good too, but not as good as shrines. Unless there’s a shrine inside the temple. Those are safe.”

“Huh,” Kaname says, thinking back over his entire life. Being in temples has always helped, given him some protection from the intensity of the spirit world outside of sacred ground. He hasn’t spent nearly as much time in shrines, except to visit or tend to them. But he can’t recall a time when a headache or chills or fever started while he was inside a shrine.

“There’s probably other things you can do,” Natsume continues. “Sometimes I hear yokai talking about exorcists.”

“My dad took me to some exorcists,” Kaname says. It was years ago. “They said they couldn’t fix me.”

“I don’t know any exorcists,” Natsume says. “But yokai are afraid of them. So they must be able to protect themselves.”

He seems surprised as he says it, like it’s not something he ever thought about before. Just like Kaname never thought about using shrines as a refuge.

“Santo had a fight with his friend Mikuri,” Natsume says. He suddenly seems a lot more relaxed and calm. “Reiko said she’d help reunite them. Once we do that, we can go home.”

We. Kaname can’t help but smile.

“But if anything goes wrong, you have to do what I tell you,” Natsume continues, firmly. “Sensei will protect us from anything dangerous. I know he’s lazy sometimes but he’s strong and I trust him. You should give him something to eat before we go.”

“I can do that,” Kaname agrees, and wonders which snack Ponta might like best. Something sweet, based on what Natsume said earlier. He should get on better terms with the cat, if they’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.

He’s not sure exactly how he changed Natsume’s mind. But Kaname’s the one who feels like crying happy tears right now.

“Nyanko-sensei,” Kaname says, as he approaches the cat. He bows deeply. “Thank you for protecting us. I’m sorry I’ve been rude to you.”

“Not ‘Ponta’?” the cat challenges.

“I want to be respectful,” Kaname says. Most of the snacks he brought are savory, but he did bring a packet of dorayaki, a sweet red bean cake. He opens the packet and holds out the dorayaki as an offering.

The cat eagerly takes the dorayaki and starts eating it. “You can call me whatever you want as long as I get my offerings. Ponta is fine. Or Sensei.”

“Thank you, Sensei,” Kaname says, bowing again.

“If you treat him like that all the time, his head’s going to get even bigger,” Natsume warns.

“My beautiful head is exactly the right size,” Ponta declares. “Now are we going or what?” He gestures at the train tracks.

“You want to walk to Kiriganuma?” Kaname asks. He pulls out the bus schedule.

“Don’t bother, there’s no bus,” Ponta says.

Kaname checks the schedule and map anyway, and wonders how the cat ended up such an expert on local transit. Kiriganuma is the next station, but the train line curves away from the main road and bus line, deeper into the forest. Based on the map it’s near some kind of wetland. Back when they built the track there must have been something there, but a lot of small towns have shrunk or disappeared entirely since then, which is why this line isn’t in service anymore.

He thinks about how long it will take to get there and then back here to the bus stop. Even if nothing goes wrong, they’re going to be out here later than they’d planned.

“I need to leave a note for my dad,” Kaname says.

Natsume freezes up again. “Your dad?”

“When we don’t get back on time he’s going to get worried and come here to find us,” Kaname says. “Do you want to leave a note for the Fujiwaras?”

Something complicated crosses Natsume’s face.

“You didn’t tell them?” Kaname guesses.

Natsume shakes his head. He looks more distressed now than he was when Santo was flinging him around.

Kaname glances over at the empty phone booth. Thinks it through. “It’ll be okay,” he decides. “My dad will come get us and he can take you right home.” When Natsume still looks distressed, Kaname thinks of another option. “We could come back tomorrow and help Santo then? Or this weekend?”

“No,” Natsume says, and turns determined again. “We have to help him now.” He turns to the shadow of Santo, still visible over the sagging chairs. “I promise, we’re going to find Mikuri and sort everything out.”

“Promises, promises,” Ponta sighs. But he walks to the end of the platform and hops down. The chairs un-sag, and the shadow follows Ponta.

“Give me a minute,” Kaname says, as he searches for his pen and something to write on. He rips out a blank page from a small notepad and writes, then folds the paper in half, writes ‘Dad’ on the front. He looks around and finds a decent-sized rock, then puts the rock on the paper on the ground right near the station entrance, so his dad will see it right away.

Natsume eyes the paper warily, then turns and follows Ponta and Santo down onto the tracks.

Chapter Text

Takashi walks quickly along the railroad tracks. If they can get to Kiriganuma fast enough, and back to Moriguchi fast enough, they can catch the bus back home. And then Tanuma-san and the Fujiwaras won’t have any reason to worry. Tanuma-san will never see whatever Tanuma wrote on that paper he left behind. Everything will be fine.

Takashi stops and turns. “Santo, we have to hurry.”

Santo, unfortunately, does not understand the concept of ‘hurry.’ Which isn’t surprising for a yokai who hung around an abandoned train station for decades, waiting for Reiko to keep her promise.

Santo is bending down and looking at something with great interest. Five minutes ago, he became fascinated with a beetle. Now it’s a small daisy.

Takashi gives a frustrated sigh and walks back. They are absolutely not going to make it back in time to catch the bus.

“He stopped again?” Tanuma asks, as he squints in Santo’s direction.

Takashi nods.

Tanuma gives a thoughtful hum. “What was it you said he is? A capy— Capy-something?”

“Capybara,” Takashi says. “Or maybe a nutria.”

“Are those types of yokai?”

“They’re large semi-aquatic rodents,” Takashi says.

Tanuma blinks at him, surprised. “Oh. I’ve never heard of them. You know a lot about animals?”

“Just what they look like,” Takashi says. It’s useful, mostly, knowing what everything looks like.

“So what does a capybara look like?” Tanuma asks, squinting at Santo again.

Takashi wonders how much he can see. Tanuma said he sees shadows, but is the outline clear or vague? The sun is getting low, is he able to see the shadows at night?

“He’s big,” Takashi says, and has to fight back the instinctive, choking cringe that comes over him. Describing yokai to humans has absolutely never gone well for him. It’s physically difficult to get the words out, to not lie like he always lies.

But he doesn’t want to lie to Tanuma.

“He’s covered in fur,” Takashi forces out. “Like a brown bear. But taller. Three times my height? And his face is—“ He gestures, trying to describe it. “Long, like a horse?”

Even saying that much makes him feel vaguely ill, flushed and panicked. But when Tanuma just nods, accepting, believing— He feels a flutter of happiness, too, small and strange.

He doesn’t know what to do with that flutter. So he walks up to Santo. “We have to keep going. Can you bring the flower with you?”

Santo had been willing to bring the beetle with him, but when he tried to pick it up, it flew away.

Takashi would understand if Santo was like Odamaki. The embodiment of a spring meadow felt travel was entirely unnatural. But it’s not as if Santo was born at the train station. Takashi feels the pull of the mountains above them and knows they must be Santo’s real home.

In Santo’s memories, he felt how desperately Santo wants to be with his friend Mikuri again, how much he loves and misses Mikuri. But he was at the train station when Reiko came back because he was too afraid to go to Kiriganuma alone. He’s been too afraid to go alone for decades.

Takashi wonders if there’s something he should say to Santo to reassure him. But he’s not good at that sort of thing. It’s usually best if he says nothing at all.

After a long, considering pause, Santo stands and shakes his head, then starts ambling along. Finally.

Instead of rushing ahead again, Takashi resigns himself to matching Santo’s pace, with Nyanko-sensei and Tanuma.

He’s relieved that Tanuma is staying close to Nyanko-sensei, that he seems to be taking the danger they’re in seriously. Sometimes when humans suspect the truth about him, they get excited about the idea of getting close to yokai, to the whole spirit world. They chase after him, stalk him like Sasada, or worse.

Of course, it never ends well. Not for him and not for the humans. It’s best to deny everything, like he tried to do with Sasada. Don’t react, say nothing. Don’t acknowledge them and eventually they’ll go away. Or he’ll go away, moved to another town, another school.

But Kitamoto and Nishimura told him, even before he talked to Tanuma himself. That Tanuma goes pale and scared and runs away, just like Takashi does.

Tanuma didn’t seem scared. He was so brave at the trial of courage, standing up to Sasada, trying to protect everyone. He talks to Kitamoto and Nishimura so effortlessly. And he can’t really see yokai anyway. Just shadows and feelings.

Takashi never considered that just shadows and feelings might be awful, too. A different kind of awful than his own unstable existence. He never imagined that his own sight could be anything positive. That being able to talk to yokai could be helpful.

But until the Book, he didn’t want to talk to yokai. Why should he care if they were upset? All he did was run away from them, and take temporary refuge in shrines.

But Tanuma didn’t know about shrines. He can’t see what he’s running from, and had nowhere safe to run to. The helplessness of that— It makes Takashi need to help Tanuma, like he’s helping Santo, like he’s found himself helping all sorts of yokai since he learned about the Book.

Tanuma’s pleading face. The pain and fear in him, and the loneliness.

Takashi’s never been needed by a human. Not like this. He can’t abandon Tanuma any more than he can abandon Santo. Even though being close to Takashi is dangerous in itself. The only solution he can think of is to put Tanuma under Nyanko-sensei’s protection. For Nyanko-sensei to keep Tanuma safe, just like he protected Nishimura.

If Takashi didn’t have the responsibility of the Book, he might try to send Nyanko-sensei to Tanuma permanently. But with the Book and without Nyanko-sensei, Takashi knows he wouldn’t last long, and once Nyanko-sensei inherits the Book he’ll have no reason to stay and protect Tanuma. So for now the best thing to do is stick together.

Takashi sighs as he realizes Santo has wandered away from the tracks again. This time he’s delighted to have found some berries, but when he eats a handful, he shudders and his face puckers up. Despite himself, Takashi does find the sight a little amusing.

“Some berries disappeared from that bush,” Tanuma says. “Did Santo eat them?”

“Yes, but they’re sour,” Takashi says.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Tanuma says, glancing back and forth between Takashi and Santo like he’s not sure which of them he should be addressing.

Despite their sourness, Santo hums happily to himself as he gathers more berries. He fills up the small bag that hangs from his shoulder on a loop of slim rope. Tanuma’s eyes track as the red berries disappear from the bush, presumably vanishing into shadow the moment Santo takes them into his massive paws.

“I guess he likes them,” Tanuma says. “I’m kinda hungry, too.” He reaches his bag and takes out a pair of mandarins. He holds one out. “Here, I brought enough to share.”

Takashi stares uneasily at the offered mandarin, suddenly pulled back to his encounter with Tanuma-san last week.

Tanuma keeps holding out the mandarin.

And then Santo takes the mandarin. Tanuma startles back, staring at his empty hand in surprise.

“For Mikuri!” Santo declares. “Mikuri will love! A gift for Mikuri!”

“Oh!” Tanuma says, wide-eyed. “Uh. Did Santo—“

“Yes,” Takashi admits.

Santo holds the mandarin up over his head and spins with delight.

“I guess yokai like offerings, too,” Tanuma says. “What do you usually give them?”

Nothing, Takashi thinks. He’s what most yokai want to eat. But then he remembers Tsuyukami, who he helped soon after he met Nyanko-sensei. Hana, his last worshipper, had left the tiny dew god offerings of peaches. “I guess they like fruit.”

Tanuma gives a thoughtful nod. He peels the mandarin, then break it into thirds. “Sensei, this is for you,” he says, and bends down to offer one of the thirds.

Nyanko-sensei happily takes it. “I should have known a priest’s son would make a quality servant.”

“Servant?” Tanuma says, a little uneasy.

“Don’t worry, he thinks everyone is his servant,” Takashi assures him. This is good. Tanuma is definitely under his protection now, at least for the evening.

Tanuma offers Takashi a third of the mandarin, and Takashi accepts it. He supposes he is hungry. Eating the entire bento Touko-san makes for him always leaves him full for hours, but it’s been a while since lunch.

“Good thing I brought extra,” Tanuma says, as he eats his third.

He opens his bag again and takes out a bag of senbei, the same kind he brought to lunch on Monday. He distributes the senbei between the four of them. Santo is confused by the crackers, but once he tries one, he’s delighted about sharing them with Mikuri.

Tanuma is visibly pleased when Takashi eats his portion. Just like Touko-san is pleased when he eats everything she serves him. He feels another strange flutter.

“Any more snacks in there?” Nyanko-sensei asks, eyeing Tanuma’s bag.

“Yes, but let’s save it for later,” Tanuma says. “We should share something with Mikuri too, right?”

Takashi realizes Tanuma hasn’t heard Santo happily singing about sharing his berries and mandarin and senbei with Mikuri. He can see where Santo is, but not what he’s doing, or what’s happened to the food Santo is holding.

“Let’s keep going,” Takashi says, and when he starts walking, everyone follows.

To his relief, Santo seems much less distractible now. He must have been considering the flower and beetle as gifts for Mikuri, too. Takashi feels bad about rushing Santo away from them, when reuniting him with Mikuri is the whole point of this.

Tanuma can’t even see Santo properly, can’t hear him at all, but he’s already better at helping Santo than Takashi is. It reminds him uncomfortably of being with Tanuma with Kitamoto and Nishimura.

Takashi would never burden anyone else with the Book of Friends. And anyway he’s literally the only one who can release the yokai bound to it. But Tanuma would probably be better at that, too. He’s so considerate and kind. Takashi didn’t even bring anything to eat, much less share. He couldn’t ask Touko-san for extra food this morning because she would have asked why he needed it. And he can’t take her food without asking.

Better to say nothing and have nothing than to lie to her. Even though he already has to lie to her and Shigeru-san all the time. More than he’s had to lie to other people he’s lived with, because most of them quickly stopped asking.

The Fujiwaras don’t like it when he misses dinner. It upsets them when he stays out too late, especially when he comes home with his clothes dirty and torn. He keeps first aid supplies in his bag so at least he can hide his injuries from them.

If Tanuma gets hurt, will Takashi be able to convince him to hide his injuries, too? He doesn’t want Tanuma to get hurt at all. Tanuma shouldn’t be here, like he shouldn’t have been at the trial of courage. He should be far away from Takashi, doing things that are safe and normal.

But Tanuma said he can’t be normal. That he’s tried so hard and failed, like Takashi has tried and failed. What does that mean for them?

If he’s supposed to help Tanuma like he’s helping Santo, then what does Tanuma need? If Tanuma needs help being normal, Takashi is worse than useless to him. Despite what he said, Tanuma is already more normal than Takashi could ever dream of being.

“Did Santo really wait for Reiko all this time?” Tanuma asks, again glancing between Takashi and Santo.

“Reiko!” Santo calls, happy just hearing her name.

“Yes, why couldn’t you have gone by yourself?” Nyanko-sensei asks Santo.

Santo gives a thoughtful hum. “Because I made a promise!”

“I was an idiot to ask,” Nyanko-sensei sighs.

“What did he say?” Tanuma asks.

“He made a promise to wait for her,” Takashi relays.

“Wow,” Tanuma says. “Do all yokai take promises this seriously?”

Takashi considers the yokai he’s actually talked to. Nyanko-sensei certainly takes the promise of the Book seriously. And lonely Hishigaki waited decades for Reiko, just like Santo, because of a promise. “I guess so. But time is— Different, for them.”

“What’s a few decades here or there?” Nyanko-sensei says. “We don’t have short lives like you humans.”

“How old are you, Ponta?” Tanuma asks.

“The noble age of none of your business,” Nyanko-sensei says, and turns up his nose.

Takashi can’t help but chuckle. “He probably can’t remember.”

Tanuma chuckles too.

Nyanko-sensei makes an affronted noise, but Takashi can tell he isn’t really bothered. And Santo is happy with his gifts, and Tanuma is smiling.

They’re happy. And Takashi feels happy, too. Humans and yokai together, talking and sharing as the sunset fills the sky with vivid red and orange. It’s strange and unexpected and should be impossible. And for a moment, he allows himself to think that maybe everything really will be okay.

And then a cold wind cuts through the trees, and the ground starts to tremble.

“An earthquake?!” Tanuma gasps.

Nyanko-sensei narrows his eyes. “I sense malice.”

Tanuma cries out and doubles over, clutching his head. As Takashi reaches for him, the forest around them darkens and changes. Faces appear on the trunks of what had seemed to be perfectly normal trees, the eyes and mouths glowing deep red, contorted with anger. Their twisted branches grow impossibly fast, stretch up above them in all directions, then strike down.

“No!” Takashi flings himself over Tanuma, desperate to shield him.

At the last second, the grasping branches pass them by, only to wrap around Santo. Santo cries out in fear as the branches bind the huge yokai tight and haul him up into the air.

“Santo!” Takashi calls, caught between protecting Tanuma and saving Santo. But the yokai is far too high for him to reach.

A deep, angry voice screams with fury. “Unforgivable!” it snarls, seeming to come from the entire forest around them. “Unforgivable!”

And then the branches strike out again, and Takashi holds Tanuma tight.

This time the branches come for him, wrapping around his waist and limbs. But they come for Tanuma too. Takashi tries to intercept them, to force the branches to only wrap around himself, but in seconds both of them are hauled up into the air as the branches squeeze painfully tight.

“Natsume!” Tanuma cries, scared and in pain.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ Takashi thinks, he was so stupid for letting this happen, so stupid for bringing Tanuma with him, so stupid for thinking he could let any human get close to him, even one like himself.

“Natsume!” Nyanko-sensei yells, and with a poof and a growl he transforms into his true form. With a fierce lunge, he tears through the branches holding them up. Sensei holds them by the torn branches and drops them roughly but safely back on the ground, then swoops up again to rescue Santo.

“Tanuma!” Takashi calls. The branches still wrapped around them are just wood now, and he frantically breaks them away. The rough bark scrapes up his hands. He leaves streaks of blood on Tanuma’s white shirt and the sight feels cataclysmic.

“How—“ Tanuma says, looking down as if seeing the branches for the first time. He starts breaking off the branches too.

“Grab on!” Sensei roars, running straight for them. Santo is on his back, clinging to his tail.

There’s no time to explain. Takashi grabs Tanuma again, holds him tight as Sensei’s giant jaws scruff Takashi’s shirt and fling both of them up onto the wolf’s back.

Takashi grabs Tanuma wrists and shoves his hands into Nyanko-sensei’s long fur. “Hold on!” he shouts, and covers Tanuma with his body, presses both of them down into the fur as Sensei carries them away from the angry tree yokai.

Tanuma stares straight down, wide-eyed. “We’re flying?!”

To Tanuma, they must be flying over the tracks on nothing. Can he see Sensei’s true form as a shadow? Can he feel the fur he’s grasping?

“We’re on Sensei!” Takashi tells him, over the rush of wind.

Tanuma looks around, extremely confused, obviously trying to find Nyanko-sensei’s cat form.

“Sensei, what was that?” Takashi calls, needing answers himself.

“It was after Santo,” Sensei rumbles. “Mikuri’s been possessed by earth spirits.”

“Earth spirits?!” Takashi asks, confused. Yokai can be possessed by other yokai?

“They feed off anger and hatred,” Sensei says.

Behind him, Santo mournfully calls for Mikuri.

Takashi knows how Santo must feel right now. In his memories, Santo just wanted his friend back. He knew he did something wrong, he upset Mikuri somehow, but he forgot what it was, and he was stuck, helpless to stop Mikuri’s anger.

“Does Mikuri hate Santo that much?” Takashi asks, distressed.

“It’s safer if we don’t go and see him,” Sensei warns.

Did Santo try to talk to Mikuru before, alone, and did Mikuri hurt him? Takashi didn’t get those memories when he returned Santo’s Name. Sometimes he only gets a glimpse, a peek into a yokai’s life when he gives back a Name. Sometimes he gets so much it drowns out everything else, until the memories settle inside him.

Takashi can’t imagine what Santo could have done wrong. Santo is a simple, gentle creature. He wanders the mountains and forests, grazing on fruit and nuts. He plays with other creatures, animals and yokai, rambunctious but never meaning any harm. He likes pretty beetles and the way sunlight dapples through the canopy. He loves cool mountain streams in the summer, and natural hot springs in the winter.

“What do you want to do, Natsume?” Sensei asks.

Santo calls for Mikuri again.

Santo hurt his friend. He hurt his friend and can’t remember what he did, and he’s afraid his friend will never forgive him. He misses Mikuri so much.

Takashi thinks of his blood staining Tanuma’s shirt.

Tanuma should never forgive Takashi for putting him in so much danger. And even if he might, because he’s so kind, his father surely won’t. When he sees that note, when he comes to find them, he’ll do what every parent has ever done. He’ll do the sensible thing and forbid Tanuma from ever being near Takashi again.

No. Tanuma-san knows the truth. So he’ll tell it to the Fujiwaras, and tell them what he did to Tanuma. And only because they’re so kind, they’ll probably let Takashi pack his things himself. They won’t shove it all into his duffel bag before he even gets home, and leave the duffel bag and his boxes by the front door, or out on the street, or at the hospital.

Either way, this is his last night here. Just a little over two months. It’s not the shortest time he’s ever lived somewhere. But it’s shorter than he let himself hope for.

He doesn’t want to leave. But it’s too late for regrets.

He made a promise to help Santo, and a promise to protect Tanuma. He can’t abandon them, can’t walk away like Reiko did. He has to fulfill those promises as best he can. This is his last chance, before everything ends tonight.

“Let’s go,” he tells Sensei, determined.

Chapter Text

Before they left Moriguchi, Natsume told Kaname that if anything went wrong, Ponta would protect them. And that Kaname had to listen to Natsume, and do what he told him.

Natsume said it like it was vitally important. And after what happened at the trial of courage, Kaname thought he understood. He thought he was ready for anything they might face.

He was not ready to be riding on the back of an invisible giant creature that is apparently Natsume’s cat, while fleeing some other invisible creature named Mikuri that grabbed them and dragged them up into the air and left behind strange branches that coiled like vines around their bodies as if they’d grown there.

Even though all he sees is a shadow — which gets harder to see as the sun sets — where the weight of Natsume body presses him down, he can feel something solid beneath him. Where Natsume placed his hands and told him to hold on tight, he can feel something shaggy and soft against his palms, like hair or fur.

Whatever Ponta has turned into, it’s huge. Even bigger than Santo, who apparently is clinging on just behind them, one invisible creature riding on another.

He can’t see what’s chasing them either, but he can feel it, unsettling and wrong. Like he felt it at the trial of courage, but so much worse. Is Mikuri evil? Or is it like Shigure-sama, hurt and angry and lashing out?

Either way, his head is killing him. He bears through it, like he’s borne through this agony his whole life. There were times when his dad was away and the bad spirit-feeling would persist for days and days, strong and unrelenting, and nothing stopped it until his dad rushed home early to soothe the spirits.

If Natsume lets go of him, maybe all this impossible solidness will vanish. Kaname will fall to the fast-moving ground below. The thing that’s chasing them will catch him and snatch him away, like Shigure-sama did. If that happened, there would be nothing he could do to stop it.

But when Natsume shouts at Ponta again, he holds Kaname even tighter.

They launch up into the air.

The railroad tracks fall away beneath them. The trees fall away beneath them. They fly high over the canopy as the angry spirit rages on the ground beneath them.

They’re flying!

The agony eases and Kaname gasps with relief. Wind whips through his hair and clothes. He gapes in astonishment as he realizes he can see the lights of Hitoyoshi from here, shining up beyond the forest and the rolling mountains.

Everything looks so vast, and so small.

He turns to Natsume, strains his neck to look up at him. He wants to share this moment with him. He hopes Natsume isn’t already used to this, that it’s wonderful for him, too.

But Natsume’s expression is only grim determination.

Ponta carries them back down to the ground. They’re supposed to reunite Santo with Mikuri, so he expects them to turn back. But Ponta keeps running along the tracks, and in no time at all, they’ve reached Kiriganuma.

Natsume’s grip eases, but he doesn’t let Kaname go until they’re both off of Ponta and back on solid ground.

Kaname’s knees still feel weak from their flight, but he rounds on where he thinks Ponta is still standing. “If you could do that the whole time, why didn’t you just carry us here in the first place?”

“He says he’s not a bus,” Natsume says, with an air of resignation, as if this is something he and Ponta have argued about before.

“Right,” Kaname says. He decides to just be grateful for the rescue. He realizes there’s still a coil of wood around his ankle; he breaks it off and tosses it aside.

“It’s cold,” Natsume says. “Like it’s not even summer.”

Clouds have moved in, blotting out the last of the sunset and casting everything in gloomy twilight, and a heavy mist makes it even harder to see what’s around them.

But even in the brightest sunshine, Kiriganuma wouldn’t be welcoming. There’s a station building here, like Moriguchi, but this one hasn’t been maintained. Water has risen up from the swamp beside the station, covering a swath of track and flooding the decaying building with several inches of water. He wonders what this station used to be for.

If there’s a yokai here, it doesn’t even make a ripple in the still water. The dim light makes Ponta and Santo’s shadows almost impossible to see. And Kaname’s already been exposed to so much spirit-feeling that he can’t use his headache as a guide anymore. He feels even more blind than before.

He really wishes he could soothe the spirits like his dad can.

“So now what?” Kaname asks. “Do we go back for Mikuri?”

“That wasn’t Mikuri,” Natsume says, his expression somber and determined. “He’s here somewhere. We have to find him. Mikuri!” he shouts into the gloom. “Come out! Mikuri! We need to talk!” He turns. “Santo, what does Mikuri look like?”

“I thought Mikuri was what attacked us?” Kaname asks. If that wasn’t Mikuri, then what was it? How many yokai will they have to face tonight?

“No, that was the earth spirits,” Natsume says. He turns again, listening, then turns back to Kaname. “Sensei says there used to be a mine here. It left scars in the earth and people died working there. That’s what made the earth spirits angry.”

“Mikuri’s angry about the mine?” Kaname asks, confused.

Natsume listens again. “No,” he tells Kaname. “Spirits are drawn to intense emotions, especially ones they feel themselves. Mikuri was angry about Santo, so the angry earth spirits possessed him.”

Kaname didn’t know a spirit could possess another spirit. But there’s so much he doesn’t know.

“You said Santo had a fight with Mikuri,” Kaname asks, trying to contribute in some way. “What did they fight about?”

“Santo can’t remember,” Natsume says. “He was going to give Mikuri the food you gave him and the berries he picked, as an apology gift. But he dropped them when we were attacked.”

“Oh,” Kaname says. Neither of those things is good news. But not all is lost. “I have something else you can give him.” He takes out their last snack, some dried squid. He holds it out.

It vanishes.

“Sensei!” Natsume chides, annoyed. Then he turns. “Sorry, Santo. Squid is his favorite. Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out. And anyway, Sensei says he has to exorcise the earth spirits first.”

“Can’t we talk to the earth spirits?” Kaname asks. Maybe if they can reason with the earth spirits, help them like Natsume and Sasada helped Shigure-sama—

But then Natsume tenses up, and stares out at the water. There’s a ripple and then a splash, and Natsume turns and pushes Kaname away. Kaname falls back onto the ground, and looks up just as huge wave of water shoots up like a geyser. He can just see the outline of something, the water spraying around the shape of an enormous invisible fish.

“A catfish?!” Natsume gasps, staring up in astonishment. “That’s Mikuri?! He’s huge!”

Kaname is ready to run for the woods, but Natsume doesn’t seem very scared by the angry giant catfish yokai. But then Natsume flinches away from something, and deep furrows appear in the damp soil. And paw prints?

“Sensei!” Natsume shouts, sounding worried now. And then to Kaname’s horror, Natsume is grabbed and lifted up into the air above him.

And then the waist pack Natsume wears under his shirt, that he never takes off, is yanked from his body. Natsume reaches desperately for it as it falls.

Kaname lunges forward and catches it, and clutches it to his chest. He starts to retreat again, but something grabs him and pulls back, yanks him up. He can feel something trying to pull the pack away, but he holds on with all his strength. He’s shaken hard and he cries out, but he refuses to let go.

“No!” Natsume shouts, distraught. “Leave him alone!”

There’s a meow as Ponta reappears, his cat form tiny compared to whatever he is when he’s invisible. He launches out over the water and disappears again. Whatever he does out over the water, it makes Mikuri let them go.

He and Natsume both splash down into muddy water. Kaname kicks out, trying to find the bottom, but the water is deeper than it looked.
Something tugs at his ankles. Is he caught in some weeds? His lungs start to burn as he tries to pull free, to swim to the surface.

To his extreme alarm, the pulling gets stronger. He can’t see in the muddy water, but something has his legs and is pulling him down. And then it grabs at his arms, and tries to pull away the waist pack.

No! He kicks harder, desperate. But the thing— Mikuri? The earth spirits? It’s so strong. He needs to breathe, he needs air!

And then something grabs him from above and yanks, pulling him free. His face breaks the surface and he gulps desperately at the air, even as the rough water slaps at his face.

He realizes there are two hands holding him, one on each arm. One is Natsume’s, and the other is large and invisible and must be Santo’s.

“Tanuma!” Natsume gasps, staring at him with shocking desperation. He’s shaking, from the water and the cold, or fear, or both.

“I’m okay,” Kaname tells him, though he’s trembling too.

Santo drags both of them out of the swamp and up to the muddy shore of the station.

“Thank you, Santo,” Kaname says, still panting as his lungs recover. “Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t have—!” Natsume chokes out. “I told you—!”

“I’m sorry,” Kaname says, and mostly means it. “I didn’t want you to lose this.”

He holds out the waist pack. Natsume somehow goes even paler, and takes it, holds it close. Instead of being relieved or happy to get his pack back, he looks even more upset.

And then a powerful wave of Ponta-feeling hits them. It’s strong even from a distance. And Kaname knows that Ponta just did something almost as powerful as whatever it was Natsume did back in Moriguchi.

The pressure in Kaname’s head suddenly eases. The unsettling and wrong spirit-feeling that was everywhere has popped like a bubble, and its absence is startling.

With a poof, Ponta reappears beside them, a cat once again. “Done,” he declares. “You three all right?”

“Yeah,” Natsume says, but he draws in on himself like he has before. Closes everything up, locks everyone out.

Kaname knows he messed up. He knows Natsume wanted him to stay back, to stay away from the fight.

But he felt so useless, unable to see more than glimpses of the danger around them. Unable to talk to Santo to help him, or to the earth spirits or Mikuri to calm them. Even though Santo can’t remember anything and Mikuri and the earth spirits were too angry and violent to listen.

Kaname only meant to catch the pack and run away. He missed out on helping, with Shigure-sama. He was just as useless as all the other students, captured and unconscious. If he can’t be normal, he at least wants to be useful, to be more to Natsume than something to worry about.

But it seems like he only made Natsume worry more. However hard helping Santo was going to be, Kaname made it harder. And the pack got wet anyway, so if that mysterious book is what’s in there, it’s probably ruined now.

He looks out at the water. It’s calm again, as placid as it was when they first arrived, with no sign of the giant catfish. “Where’s Mikuri?”

“It’s sad, but he disappeared along with the earth spirits to the bottom of the swamp,” Ponta says.

“He’s dead?” Kaname asks, shocked. Yokai can die? And what about poor Santo?

Now he’ll never see his friend again. What was the point of all this?

Maybe they would have all been better off if they’d stayed away. From Moriguchi, from each other. Kaname was already a burden to his dad, and now he’s a burden to Natsume, too. Maybe if he hadn’t pushed Natsume about Reiko, hadn’t intruded on this part of his life that he clearly doesn’t want anyone else involved in, Mikuri would still be alive, and Natsume’s book wouldn’t be ruined.

This is all Kaname’s fault. And Natsume must know it, too.

There’s a splash in the swamp, just a small one. But it makes Natsume and Ponta both turn in surprise. And there’s a bigger splash as Santo rushes into the water.

“Mikuri’s alive,” Natsume says, emotion flooding back into his face, amazement and relief.

“Don’t worry, he’s just a guppy now,” Ponta tells them. He shakes himself, flinging off a shower of muck and water that goes all over Kaname and Natsume.

Not that it makes a difference, as both of them were already sopping wet and covered in muck.

“Are they okay?” Kaname asks, peering at the disturbance in the water. But it’s dark now, and he can’t make out a single shadow. “Is Mikuri still mad?”

“Um,” Natsume says, unsure as he watches them. “Yeah, he’s still mad.”

“Should we do something?” Kaname asks, looking to Ponta.

“I’m done getting wet,” Ponta declares. He walks over to the station building. He hops up on a bench that’s still intact and dry, and makes himself comfortable.

The splashing and Natsume’s gaze tells Kaname when Santo and Mikuri come back to shore. The four of them end up on the bench, too.

Mikuri tried to kill all of them. Kaname almost drowned. But one exorcism later, they’re all sitting together as they dry, like clothes on a line.

“What are they saying?” Kaname asks Natsume.

“Um,” Natsume says again. “It’s um.” He looks uncomfortable. “It’s about my grandmother.”

“They’re fighting over your grandmother?!” Kaname asks, astonished. How many yokai did Reiko know around here? What was she doing with them all?

“Not like that!” Natsume says, and if there was any color in his face he might be blushing. “Reiko and Santo were— They were friends. And Mikuri didn’t like that. A lot of yokai—“ He looks uncomfortable again. “They don’t like humans very much.”

“They don’t?” Kaname asks.

“No,” Natsume says, quietly but with a great deal of feeling. He finally puts the pack back around his waist, and pulls his shirt down over it. “But it’s fine now. They’ve made up.”

“Oh,” Kaname says. He expected that once they reunited Santo and Mikuri, he and Natsume would need to help them talk through whatever their argument had been about. Like some kind of yokai couple’s counselors. But it doesn’t seem like any of that is needed.

Not for Santo and Mikuri, anyway.

“Natsume,” Kaname starts.

“Your dad will be looking for us,” Natsume says, back to that locked-down calm again. “Sensei, should we wait here or go back to Moriguchi?”

Ponta sniffs the air. “The priest will be here soon.” He turns. “You two going back to the mountains?”

“It was good to meet you,” Natsume says, politely. “Be well.”

“Uh, yes, be well,” Kaname echoes.

And then just like that, Santo and Mikuri are gone. Back to the mountains, apparently. Leaving Kaname to digest the strangest experience of his life, even stranger than the trial of courage, while Natsume sits next to him and says nothing, shows nothing. His eyes are like glass, clear and impenetrable.

Natsume is impossible to read when he’s like this. He must be upset with Kaname, but how upset? Is there any way for Kaname to fix this, or is their friendship over now?

There’s no anger in Natsume’s expression. But there’s no relief or happiness at their success either, and not even a trace of the worry and fear Natsume showed for Kaname during the fight. It’s like he isn’t inside himself at all. And Ponta’s no help, sitting there just as silent, his green eyes watchful.

They wait. And then headlights cut through the dark forest.

Chapter Text

When Kaname-chan was finally old enough to walk, he started following Kousuke everywhere. Everyone they met said he was the most adorable little thing, so attached to his dad, a little monk in training. Kousuke would generally nod and smile, agreeing because of course Kaname-chan was adorable, and was very attached to his dad, and spiritually-minded despite his tender age.

Kousuke thought it wise not to mention that Kaname-chan was only as safe and happy as he was because his dad was with him. That if Kaname-chan was left alone, or with others, he would often break down in tears, and say the monsters were scaring him and making his head hurt again.

That’s what he said once he was old enough to talk, to communicate in more than babbling and gestures and terrified crying.

Back then, Kousuke took him to doctor after doctor, trying to find a treatment for his young son’s mysterious suffering. They all told him the same thing: that Kaname-chan was in perfect health. They couldn’t find a single thing wrong with him. They said perhaps he was crying because he was too sensitive, or because he missed his mother.

They were right, in a way.

Kousuke loved his little shadow. Kaname-chan’s constant presence made things awkward sometimes, but he only had to mention the tragic loss of Kaname-chan’s mother, and even the hardest heart would become accommodating. Especially as Kaname was a sweet boy and well-behaved. And keeping so close did help to salve the loss of their dear Misaki.

At night, when spirits are most active, Kousuke was almost always stirred awake by Kaname-chan crawling under the covers with him. Sometimes Kousuke wondered why he bothered making Kaname-chan go to sleep in his own bed every evening.

But he knew he couldn’t keep his shadow forever. Kaname was growing up and he needed to be able to stand on his own. Kousuke prayed that a treatment could be found, or perhaps even a cure, so his son could one day live his life with the same freedom as everyone else.

That day never came. But Kousuke did what he could to give Kaname something like a normal life. He blessed the temples and homes they lived in. He blessed the schools Kaname attended, and blessed the stores Kaname visited, and blessed streets and cars and public transit. He blessed the homes of Kaname’s friends, and wished there were more of them.

It isn’t a perfect system. The monsters can be soothed, but they have to be soothed every day or they come back, and then Kaname suffers terribly. And not everyone appreciates a free blessing from a Buddhist monk, much less one every day.

It’s more than difficult to let Kaname go out into a world that’s guaranteed to hurt him. Kousuke will admit he grew desperate, moved them more often to try things that had even less chance of working. But Kaname is his only and precious son. And what is Kousuke even for, as a father, if he can’t protect and help his own son?

So while he smiled and encouraged Kaname to go out on his adventure with Takashi, while he dearly wants their friendship to work out— It’s nervewracking, letting the two of them travel so far alone, to a place Kousuke hasn’t blessed. He wants them to come back happy and smiling, like Kaname has for the past two days.

Kousuke does his best to keep busy, to not watch the hands of the clock tick around the dial. But the sun gets lower in the sky, and Kaname knows how dangerous it is for him to be outside at night, in an unblessed place.

And then the phone rings. Kousuke hurries to answer it.

“Sorry to bother you,” says a familiar voice. Shigeru. “But I was wondering if Takashi is with Kaname. We were visiting Akiyoshi-san, the father of one of Takashi’s friends? His friends came back from fishing while we were there. Takashi usually spends the afternoon with them, but they hadn’t seen him since school.”

Kousuke immediately realizes two things. First, that Takashi and Kaname didn’t come back on time and go to Takashi’s house, as he hoped. And second, that Takashi failed to mention their plans to the Fujiwaras.

Kaname said they were going to visit an old train station that Takashi’s grandmother had visited, or planned to visit. Nothing as obviously risky as a trial of courage at an abandoned school building. But Takashi’s silence only increases Kousuke’s worry.

“They are out together,” Kousuke admits. He wants to share as much as he can, to give the Fujiwaras the guidance he promised. “They took a bus so they could do some exploring, get to know the area better. Didn’t Takashi mention it?”

“No,” Shigeru says, his worried frustration audible through the phone line. “Did they say when they’d be back?”

“Actually, they should be back already,” Kousuke says. “But Kaname gave me their itinerary. Perhaps they missed the return bus and got stuck.”

“He’s with Kaname,” Shigeru says away from the phone, presumably to Touko.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Touko says, her faint voice relieved.

“Where did they go?” Shigeru asks. “I’ll drive there and pick them up.”

“No need,” Kousuke assures him. “I already arranged a back-up plan with Kaname, just in case. I was about to head out when you called.”

“Kaname sounds very responsible,” Shigeru says, approving.

“He’s a good boy,” Kousuke says, proudly. “I’m sure everything is fine. They weren’t planning to go far. I’ll pick them up and bring Takashi right home to you.”

“Thank you,” Shigeru says, grateful. There’s a pause, and perhaps he’s wondering if he should ask for details, or insist on going himself. But all he says is, “We’ll be waiting.”

Kousuke hangs up the phone, grabs his keys, and drives to Moriguchi as fast as he dares.

When he arrives, the old train station is quiet and empty. But right by the entrance he finds a piece of new paper under a rock. It’s a note from Kaname.

Dad,
Ran into trouble. Nothing bad but we have to walk to Kiriganuma. Please come get us.
K.

Kousuke takes the cautiously written note and rushes back to his car. He gave Kaname his usual map of the area, but he has another one in the glove compartment. He takes it out and finds Kiriganuma.

When he turns off the main road, paving becomes gravel, and then packed dirt. Overgrown branches scrape along the car. There’s rusting signs that say this road leads to an old mine, obviously closed even before this whole mountain region was declared a national park. The signs for the train station are rusting, too.

Kousuke doesn’t need to ask what could possibly bring the boys to a place like this. After last week, Kousuke has been hesitant to soothe the monsters again, but maybe he should have driven out here this morning anyway.

To his enormous relief, as soon as his headlights reach the station, he sees them. Kaname and Takashi are sitting together on a bench. And Nyanko-sensei, of course. In his worry, Kousuke forgot about Takashi’s master and bodyguard. Kaname said Takashi brings the cat with him everywhere, aside from school, so of course he came with them here. Takashi is a good, responsible boy, too.

“Dad!” Kaname calls, rushing over before Kousuke even unbuckles his seat belt. Kousuke climbs out and moves to hug him, but Kaname warns him back.

“I’m filthy,” Kaname says, gesturing at himself. And he certainly is. He looks like he was dragged right through the swamp. And so does Takashi, still over on the bench, only half-lit by the headlights.

Kousuke pulls Kaname into a hug anyway. “It’s just a little dirt. Are you all right? What on earth happened?”

“We’re okay,” Kaname says. But his streaked face is pale and strained, and he’s shivering.

“Stay right there,” Kousuke tells him, and goes to the trunk of the car, pulls out the blankets he keeps there for emergencies. He wraps Kaname in one and tells him to get into the car, and turns up the heat. Then he brings the other blanket to Takashi.

“Takashi, Nyanko-sensei,” Kousuke greets. It’s the first time he’s met them together, and he isn’t sure how to address them as a pair.

“Priest,” Nyanko-sensei greets back. He gives Kousuke an expectant look, then flicks his eyes towards Takashi.

Takashi looks even worse than Kaname. Not just filthy and shivering, he’s barely responding to Kousuke’s presence. But he doesn’t seem obviously injured.

Shock, perhaps. The first thing to do is get him warm. Kousuke wraps the blanket around Takashi and guides him to the car. Takashi is compliant, unresisting, but that’s all. He seems to be in an even worse state than he was last week, when Kousuke saw him at that shrine.

Kousuke gets Takashi into the back with Kaname and puts on Takashi’s seat belt. Nyanko-sensei sighs and hops up onto Takashi’s lap, and Takashi automatically holds him. Kaname watches them with silent worry.

Kousuke closes Takashi’s door, then takes a moment to look around. It’s dark beyond the headlights. From beside the car, he surveys the dilapidated station, the flooded tracks, impressions in the mud showing activity at the water’s edge. But nothing else. If there is a spirit here, or a yokai, he can’t feel it or see it.

He gets in and turns the car around, and heads home.

He certainly can’t bring Takashi back to the Fujiwaras in the state he’s in, physically or mentally. He considers stopping at a pay phone to at least tell them that the boys are a mess and need to clean up first. But they’ll want to talk to Takashi, and right now Takashi isn’t talking.

By the time they’re back on the main road, both boys have stopped shivering, and some color is coming back to their cheeks under all the dirt. But he can see that Kaname has another terrible migraine, and both of them look absolutely exhausted. Kousuke decides to save his questions until after they’re cleaned up.

The winding road to the temple is a welcoming sight, and then they’re home. Kousuke has the boys strip off their muddy clothes, wraps Kaname in a clean blanket, then brings Takashi to the washroom.

Takashi holds on to the waist pack that was under his shirt, trying vaguely to hide it. The waist pack with the special book inside, presumably. Kaname told Kousuke about it last week. It’s a curious mystery, but Kousuke doesn’t try to take it away for cleaning.

Nyanko-sensei waits in the hall while Kousuke shows a slightly more responsive Takashi how to use the shower. Of course the magic cat is perfectly clean.

When Kousuke leaves Takashi to wash, Nyanko-sensei follows him to the kitchen. Kousuke starts boiling water for tea, and wishes for more of Touko’s nourishing soup.

“Would you like tea, Nyanko-sensei?” Kousuke offers. The cat apparently can, after all, turn into a human girl.

“Sure. Got any dango?” Nyanko-sensei asks.

“Not at the moment,” Kousuke says. “Would you like some mochi?”

“Typical,” Nyanko-sensei sighs. “Give me my mochi and we’ll talk.”

Kousuke brings the teas and mochi back to where Kaname is sitting. Instead of turning into a girl, Nyanko-sensei sits on his cushion like a human and holds his tea in his paws. An astonishing sight.

From the look of him, Kaname won’t be up to talking soon, so they need to do it now before his migraine sets in fully.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Kousuke asks.

“Yeah,” Kaname says, softly. “Um. There was a yokai, at Moriguchi. Santo. Natsume’s grandmother— She had the ticket because she promised to help Santo get back together with his friend. Mikuri. At Kiriganuma. He tried to make me stay behind. Natsume. But I didn’t— I couldn’t let him go alone.” He looks down at his tea. “Don’t be mad at him, it was my fault.”

“I’m not mad at anyone,” Kousuke says, gently.

“Mikuri was mad at Santo, and— There’s angry earth spirits there, and they possessed him?” Kaname seems bewildered about that part. “Sensei protected us. He saved us and he stopped the earth spirits. But—“ He swallows. “It was bad. I— It was really bad.”

Kaname gives him a pleading, emotional look, one that says he’s not ready to talk about the details yet, but he wants to. A similar look to the one he had after the trial of courage. But this event seems to have hit him harder.

And then he sneezes and almost spills his tea. He puts the cup down just in time for another big sneeze.

Kousuke puts his hand on Kamane’s forehead. Kaname was chilled before, but now he feels too warm. “You might be getting a cold.”

“Ugh, a migraine and a cold?” Kaname complains. “Unfair.”

“Yes,” Kousuke sighs. He turns to Nyanko-sensei. “Anything you’d like to add, before your servant gets out of the shower?”

Nyanko-sensei takes a thoughtful sip. “Are you going to tell the Fujiwaras any of this?”

“Nothing about the spirits,” Kousuke promises. “I’d like them to know Takashi needs their care and support. But I’m sure we can come to an agreement on what to tell them.”

“Good,” Nyanko-sensei says, pleased. He pops a mochi into his mouth. “Now I have three servants. I expect regular offerings. I like dango better than mochi, remember that when you go shopping.”

“I’ll stock up,” Kousuke agrees, though talking to Nyanko-sensei does still make him wonder if he’s dreaming.

“Natsume said squid is his favorite,” Kaname adds.

“Good servant,” Nyanko-sensei praises. “More offerings and less complaining, that’s what I like. Natsume could learn a thing or two from you.”

“Does this mean you’ll protect my son, the way you protect Takashi?” Kousuke asks, hopeful.

Nyanko-sensei makes a show of considering it. “I suppose I can keep an eye on him. At least when they’re together.”

“Thank you, Nyanko-sensei,” Kousuke says, with a respectful bow. “And thank you for protecting both of them today. I’m deeply grateful.”

There’s a noise in the hall, and then Takashi returns, clean and bundled up in Kaname’s spare bathrobe. He stops and stares at the three of them. The shower appears to have helped. He looks more present, but also confused and very wary.

“My turn,” Kaname says, and goes off to get clean.

“Would you like some tea?” Kousuke asks, gesturing for Takashi to sit with them.

Takashi stares at the tea. He stares at Nyanko-sensei.

“Have some tea,” Nyanko-sensei tells him, gruffly.

Takashi sits down and reaches for a cup.

“Your hands,” Kousuke says, noticing the scratches on them now that they’re clean.

“I’m fine,” Takashi says. He pulls the long sleeves of the bathrobe over his hands, hiding them. He stares down at his lap.

Takashi is upset and scared, but not the same way Kaname is upset and scared. Takashi is afraid of Kousuke.

Kousuke gets up and takes out the temple’s first aid kit, then brings it over. He opens it and shows Takashi the contents. “You fell into some very dirty water. I’d like to treat your hands so they don’t get infected. Is that all right?”

Takashi looks to Nyanko-sensei again. He seems to seek permission from his master, or perhaps reassurance. Nyanko-sensei does have a surprisingly soothing air about him, even to someone as spirit-blind as Kousuke.

Once Takashi gets whatever he needs from Nyanko-sensei, he shows Kousuke his hands. The skin of his palms is raw, and torn in places, but the shower left them clean. Kousuke applies an antibiotic ointment with a mild painkiller, then bandages the open wounds.

“I understand that you don’t want Touko-san and Shigeru-san to know about the spirits,” he says, very calmly. “How about we tell them that you and Kaname got caught up exploring? You got turned around in the forest. Maybe you scraped your hands climbing a tree to get oriented? And on your way back to our meeting point, it was getting dark and you stumbled right into a pond.” He gives a light chuckle. “Kaname tried to pull you out and fell in, too.”

Takashi stares at him.

“I’d like to call them so they know you’re all right,” Kousuke continues, serious again, but still calm. “I think we’ll all feel better once you’ve talked to them. Do you feel up to that now?”

Takashi glances at Nyanko-sensei again, then nods.

Kousuke makes the call. He greets Shigeru, assures him that he found Takashi and Kaname and that both boys are all right. He tells the story he told Takashi, weaving it naturally to him, assuring and explaining. And then he offers Takashi the phone.

“Yes,” Takashi says. Pauses, listening. “I’m sorry.” Another pause, and then a sudden, unnatural yet perfect smile. “Yes, we had lots of fun,” he says, with a laugh in his voice. Then the smile vanishes. “Tanuma’s cleaning up now. Tanuma-san will bring me home soon. I’m sorry for missing dinner.”

Then, his expression perfectly neutral, he hands the phone back to Kousuke, walks back into the room, and sits down.

Kousuke finishes the call and hangs up.

He considers Takashi. There’s so much Kousuke wants to talk to him about, but most of it will have to wait. Right now, the only thing that matters is showing Takashi that he’s safe.

Kousuke sits down again. Considers his words carefully.

“Thank you for helping the spirits today.”

That gets Takashi’s attention. He stares at Kousuke intensely.

“I don’t know everything that happened,” Kousuke continues. “But I do know that you found spirits that needed help, and you dedicated yourself to helping them. Thank you for taking care of them.”

Several emotions flit across Takashi’s face, but confusion is what settles there. “Tanuma got hurt.”

“He did,” Kousuke says. “And that is upsetting. But spirits have been hurting my son since he was a baby. I’ve had to accept that they will always hurt my son. I could tell you I’ve made my peace with that, but the truth is it breaks my heart every time. But I’m proud of him for choosing to help you and those spirits. Thank you for letting him help.”

Takashi’s fear is definitely receding now, replaced by a disbelieving relief, and maybe a flicker of hope.

And then he turns away and sneezes.

“Oh dear,” Kousuke sighs. It’s not surprising that Takashi got sick, too. He reaches for Takashi’s forehead. “May I?”

Takashi holds still for him. His forehead is warm.

“We’d better get you home,” Kousuke says, and stands. “Let me give you something of Kaname’s to wear. I’ll take care of washing everything.” He glances down at himself, and realizes his own clothes are streaked with mud, most of it from hugging Kaname.

Kousuke gets clean clothes for Takashi, then goes and takes care of the muddy clothes. He puts them in the wash, and then empties out the two muddy school bags. There isn’t much inside them, hopefully the boys left their books at school for their adventure. He finds water bottles, pens, a small notebook, a few odds and ends, the omamori Sasada gave Kaname, Kaname’s migraine medication, and Takashi’s personal first aid kit, densely packed in its waterproof container.

He rinses off the belongings but the fabric bags and omamori will need a thorough scrubbing to remove the swamp smell. He should be able to get them clean before the boys go back to school. Kaname’s notebook is sadly unsalvageable. He hopes Takashi’s special book is in a better condition.

Kousuke adds his own clothes to the wash, and puts on clean robes.

Kaname returns, clean and dressed in pajamas. He’s unsteady on his feet, and between the cold and migraine, he’ll be going to bed very soon.

He walks up to Takashi, worried and uncertain. “I’m sorry about everything.” Then he notices the bandages on Takashi’s hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Takashi says. And he does seem to be much better, despite his cold. “Your father is very kind.” He seems like he might say more, but then he turns to Kousuke and bows deeply. “Thank you.”

Kousuke gives Takashi a bag with his few clean belongings inside. Takashi holds it close. Again he looks like he wants to say something, and looks at Kaname. But then he turns and walks out the front door.

“Don’t forget about my dango,” Nyanko-sensei reminds them, then follows Takashi out.

Kaname watches them go, still worried and uncertain.

“Everything’s all right,” Kousuke tells him, soothing. “Dinner’s in the fridge. Try to eat something? A little rice?”

Kaname nods.

Kousuke hugs him. Holds his son close. It does break his heart when Kaname is hurt, every single time. But holding Kaname always heals it again. “I’m so proud of you,” he tells Kaname. “I want all the details when you’re better.”

When he lets go, Kaname musters a small smile. “Yeah, okay.”

“Eat, then sleep,” Kousuke says. “I’ll be back soon.”

When they reach the Fujiwara house, Touko and Shigeru come out to meet them. The moment he sees them, Takashi tenses right back up, and puts on his perfectly neutral expression.

Kousuke hopes that someday soon, Takashi will be able to let the Fujiwaras see how much he’s hurting, and let them love him. All three of them need that.

Takashi sneezes as they leave the car.

“Oh dear, did you catch a chill?” Touko says, and reaches for Takashi’s forehead, then tuts. “Not another fever.” She looks down. “What happened to your school clothes?”

“I’ll bring them over when they’re clean,” Kousuke promises. “In the meantime, I lent him some of Kaname’s.”

“No wonder they’re big on you,” Touko says, with gentle humor. She starts guiding Takashi inside. “Let’s get you up to your room so you can rest. I’ll bring you something warm, and a hot water bottle, and— Oh, just look at your hands!“

They disappear inside, leaving Kousuke with Shigeru. And Nyanko-sensei.

“Would you like to come inside?” Shigeru offers. “Stay for tea?”

“I’m afraid Kaname caught a chill as well,” Kousuke says. “And he has a migraine.”

“I’m sorry,” Shigeru says. “Can we do anything to help?”

“I’m sure Kaname would appreciate more of Touko’s delicious soup.”

“As soon as she has Takashi settled, she’ll be chopping vegetables,” Shigeru says, with the wisdom of experience. “Thank you for taking care of him, and bringing him home. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Kousuke says, and means it. “They’re at the age where they need to take risks and get into a little trouble. But they still need their parents very much.”

Shigeru gives a thoughtful hum. Then he looks at Kousuke directly. Kousuke has been sized up quite a lot tonight. He’s aware of Nyanko-sensei, sitting by their feet and watching.

“Is there anything Touko and I need to know?” Shigeru asks, quietly. “Some ‘guidance’?”

Kousuke isn’t surprised by the question, but he’s not sure what he can say at this stage. The Fujiwaras can certainly take care of Takashi’s physical needs on their own. Perhaps what will help is emotional guidance.

“Today was very stressful for him,” Kousuke says. “Kaname’s migraine started soon after they got lost. Takashi feels very responsible. It’s hard for him to see others hurting, especially a friend.”

“Was he responsible?” Shigeru asks.

“Kaname gets migraines all the time,” Kousuke says. “Simply being out in the world hurts him. But I would be a poor father if I hid him away. He’s old enough to make choices for himself.”

“I want Takashi to feel free to be himself,” Shigeru says, keeping his voice low. “But he gets hurt or sick so often. I can see that he’s a gentle soul. I’m not going to rely on the word of the relatives who’ve treated him so badly, but— He has a history. Of getting hurt, and other children getting hurt around him.”

It’s hard for Kousuke to answer that without betraying Takashi’s trust. But he does what he can.

“Some people truly do have bad luck,” Kousuke says. “And if no one helps them, their small problems become big ones. Eventually no one can see the person at all, only the problems around them.”

“And that’s what’s happened to Takashi?”

“If you truly want to help someone no one else has been able to help, then you must be willing to accept discomfort,” Kousuke says. “If helping them was easy, they wouldn’t need us.”

“True,” Shigeru says, and that seems to settle him for now. “I’ll bring your guidance to Touko. Thank you.”

He and Shigeru say their goodbyes, and Kousuke walks back to his car. Nyanko-sensei follows him.

“Well?” Kousuke asks. “Are you going to eat me?”

Nyanko-sensei laughs. “You’re an interesting priest. I like interesting.”

Kousuke decides to take that as a compliment. “Any guidance for me?”

Nyanko-sensei gives a considering hum. “Clever of you to ask. I’ll give you a warning. The spirit world is no place for humans.”

“Then what about Takashi?”

“I gave him the same warning,” Nyanko-sensei says. “If he was smart he’d let me handle everything.”

“But he won’t?”

“Obviously.”

“Kaname never had a choice about being part of the spirit world,” Kousuke points out. “I think Takashi is the same. Even normal humans have relationships with gods and spirits. Aren’t we already part of the spirit world?”

Nyanko-sensei narrows his eyes. “Like I said. Clever.”

And with that, he walks back to the warm light of the Fujiwara house.

Kousuke drives a few blocks away, then pulls over to the side of the road, and breathes out.

Once he’s gathered himself again, he drives home to Kaname.

Chapter Text

Everything is over. Sitting on the bench in Kiriganuma, Takashi accepts that.

He did what he promised, mostly. He helped Santo, reunited him with Mikuri. He did his best to protect Tanuma, even though his best wasn’t enough. When the headlights of Tanuma-san’s car cut through the darkness, he feels only calm.

He’s left so many times. It’s never his choice, but it’s always his fault. There’s no point in getting upset. Nothing he says or does will change anything. Trying to stay only makes things worse, angers the people getting rid of him and upsets the people who agreed to take him. He doesn’t want them to be angry or upset. He wants them to be happy.

He lets Tanuma-san wrap him in a blanket and put him in the car. He gets the blanket dirty, but there’s no need to add it to his list of mistakes anymore. It’s time to start over. He should be relieved. He usually is, by the end. But everyone in Hitoyoshi was so kind.

He expects Tanuma-san to drive right to the Fujiwaras. Surely he wants to get this over with quickly, to get Takashi away from Tanuma and out of Hitoyoshi. But instead they drive up a winding forest road, and arrive at a temple.

Yatsuhara. They were supposed to make a vegetable garden together here. But it’s all right. Tanuma and Kitamoto and Nishimura will make it without him. They’ll go fishing and ride their bikes and—

They’ll be happy. The way they should be.

Tanuma-san helps him strip off his muddy clothes and brings him to the shower. Takashi doesn’t try to understand why Tanuma-san is doing any of this. He’s just grateful for the hot water that washes away the cold and the muck. Grateful for the clean, warm robe that’s left for him.

He’s grateful to be allowed to sit in the living room, and to be offered tea. He’s grateful that his wounds are treated and bandaged. He’s grateful that Nyanko-sensei is here, and hopes that the people he lives with next will let Nyanko-sensei live with them, too. He’s not sure what he’ll do if they don’t.

And then, confusingly, Tanuma-san calls the Fujiwaras and lies to them.

It doesn’t make any sense. But Takashi does his best to reassure the Fujiwaras anyway. To not trouble them, even though Tanuma-san told them enough of the truth that they’re already troubled. Why lie to them but still upset them? He doesn’t understand that at all.

He understands even less when Tanuma-san thanks him for putting Tanuma in danger. When he says that he’s proud and grateful that Takashi helped the spirits. Takashi thinks of the letter he hid at the bottom of his cardboard box.

And then Tanuma-san drives him to the Fujiwaras. And Touko-san starts fretting over his cold and his bandaged hands. And then he’s back in his room, in his bed, and somehow everything isn’t over after all.

Takashi has no idea what to do now. This has never happened before.

Except the cold, he thinks, as he sneezes again, and feels the familiar ache of a growing fever. Maybe all this is just a fever dream. That would make a lot more sense. But he doesn’t feel sick enough for one of those, not yet.

He changes into his pajamas and folds the clothes Tanuma-san lent him. He places them by the door, then lies down in his bed.

It feels wrong to be here. This shouldn’t be his room anymore. This shouldn’t be his bed. The futon should be neatly folded and put away. The closet and dresser and desk should all be emptied out, and his duffel and backpack should be full. He should be in a car or on a bus or a train.

Sometimes he doesn’t have to leave immediately, but only because there has to be somewhere to put him. Shigeru-san should be making calls, urgently trying to find someone, anyone who’ll take him. Shigeru-san should have been making those calls weeks ago. Is he making them now? Takashi can faintly hear Shigeru-san and Touko-san talking downstairs, but he can’t tell what they’re saying.

Takashi’s life had always had a rhythm, a cycle that’s repeated so many times he knows every step by heart. He knows exactly what’s supposed to happen right now, but none of it is happening. Is that good? Is it bad? He wants to stay, so it should be good, but it feels awful.

At least the Book is safe, even though his waist pack is still damp from the shower. The water and muck didn’t reach it through the sealed plastic bag. The Book is safe and Tanuma is alive. That’s all that matters. Nothing else.

The door slides open, and Nyanko-sensei slips through, closes it again. He says nothing, just settles into his usual spot on the bed.

Nyanko-sensei isn’t part of the cycle either. But somehow the cat’s presence only soothes him.

Exhaustion and sickness finally drag Takashi under, but his sleep is shallow and restless. He can’t stop his body from coughing and sneezing, and the noise inevitably brings Touko-san or Shigeru-san in to check on him. He wants to tell them he’s fine, they shouldn’t be up all night because of him, they shouldn’t look so worried. But as his fever climbs, his newest memories drown out everything else.

At first he think he’s Odamaki again. When he’s Odamaki, he’s a field full of spring flowers. But Odamaki is the plants. The earth spirits of Kiriganuma are the soil.

He is born as rock, deep and ancient. From bare rock he weathers into sand, and countless things live and die in him, changing him into soil, filling him with even more life.

And then, quick and shocking, humans carve into him. Fill him with explosives and poison, leaving his rich soil barren and toxic. As he’s gutted, the sickness and death of the humans within him forms a new seam of grief and anger.

Even once it all stops, the closed mine continues to fester, an untreated wound.

He wakes to someone holding his wrists, stopping him from clawing the bad things out of himself. It’s Shigeru-san, holding him while Touko-san talks to him, wipes a damp cloth along his forehead, trying to soothe him.

The earth spirits weren’t in the Book. But Nyanko-sensei told him he doesn’t need the Book to make connections. They must be like the white crow. But they feel so much like Shigure-sama, wounded by humans, full of sickening pain.

“I’m sorry,” Takashi rasps, sorry for all of it. For the cruelty of humans, for the cruelty of the wounded spirits, for making the Fujiwaras worry. How can he fix this? He doesn’t know how to fix any of this.

Touko-san only hushes him, and coaxes him to drink some lukewarm broth. But he’s so tired, and the new memories are so strong.

He is born as the spirit of a winding river. Not the fast current that rushes down from mountaintops, but low water, placid and pooling. He grows and shrinks with the seasons, with heavy rains and dry summers. But always he teems with life of all sizes, born and breeding, eating and rotting, nourishing itself in an endless cycle. Eggs and larvae, tiny insects, frogs, fish, wading birds, all sorts of creatures visiting or nesting along his banks.

A family of catfish find his waters and flourish in them. Animals and humans eat the catfish and thank the river for providing them. And then he becomes a catfish yokai. He leaves his own banks and explores, and meets a slow and friendly yokai of another winding river, who became a rodent instead of a fish.

Mikuri and Santo love each other. Mikuri is rambunctious and full of pride, and teases his gentle Santo, but never means him any harm. They play and rest in each other’s waters. They belong together so naturally.

Somehow that hurts Takashi more than all the pain of the earth spirits.

He’s relieved to be woken again by Touko-san, by the familiar clack of a thermometer against his teeth. She wipes his face with a damp cloth, brushes it gently across his closed eyes and down his cheeks. It’s hard to tell, when his own body feels so alien to him, but he thinks he might have been crying.

He thinks Touko-san might have been crying, too. He wants to apologize but language feels so far away. He only knows how to burble like a river, and the deep silence of the soil.

He drifts, and somehow remembers how to be a human boy. But his human body is sick, burning with fever, aching and sore and weak. He can only lie there and wish to be a river again.

Someone comes in and leans over him. But instead of soothing him, the hands push him onto his side. To his alarm, the hands unzip his waist pack and pull out the Book.

His eyes open wide, and he half-expects to see Sasada.

Reiko is standing over him. She’s holding the Book.

“Sensei?” Takashi croaks, confused.

No. That isn’t Nyanko-sensei.

“You want it back?” Reiko asks, playful and mocking. “Let’s play a game. You can keep it if you win.”

“You always win,” Takashi protests, his voice croaking. She catches yokai off guard, forcing them into human games they don’t know how to play. If they figure out the game, she cheats. And if the yokai don’t want to play, if they attack her, she hits them, with her fists or a bat or a rock. In the memories he gets, he feels the yokai’s pain, their shock and dismay. Reiko has beaten him so many times.

He doesn’t want her to hurt him again, but how can he let her take the Book? She’ll add even more pages to it.

He has no choice. He drags himself to his feet.

Reiko smiles, already savoring her victory. “Good. If you win, I’ll let you have it back. And if you can’t…”

She holds out a blank page for him to write his name on.

“I’ll win,” Takashi croaks, determined.

“Then catch me,” Reiko says. She turns and skips down the hall, laughing.

Takashi stumbles after her, but when he reaches the hall she’s already downstairs. By the time he makes it down the stairs, she’s already outside.

If he wasn’t sick, he could catch her. He can run so fast. But now he feels heavy and slow, and it’s so hard to think. He follows her down the road, but he can’t keep up.

She’s gone. He lost again, of course he did. But she’s supposed to come back to take his name, and she doesn’t. How will he get to school now? Mikuri is waiting for him there.

Takashi can’t wait for Reiko to come back. He keeps going, stumbling along.

When he gets to their usual meeting place along the walk to school, Tsuyukami and Susugi are there. They always stick together, like the two of them were glued with a grain of rice.

“Natsume!” calls Tsuyukami. The dew god is calm and good natured as usual. He’s dressed in his school uniform instead of his robes, but he still wears his mask and red cap. He looks healthy today, at full human height. He must have some new worshippers. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Natsume,” says Susugi. The hungry shadow god who washes dishes looms over him, his hands outstretched. His eyes and mouth are dark holes in his huge gaunt head. “I have come for food. Do you have any more manju?”

Takashi looks down. His usual bag is gone, but he has a pouch tied to a loop of rope. He looks inside. “I have these berries. But they’re sour.”

Susugi holds out his hands for them, and Takashi gives him the pouch. The shadow god eats a berry and shudders at its sourness, but keeps eating them anyway.

“There’s a math test at school,” Tsuyukami reminds him, as they walk. “You don’t look well. Do you think you’ll be up to taking it?”

“I don’t know,” Takashi admits.

“We could take you to the nurse,” Susugi offers. “You should stay home and rest when you’re sick.”

“I have to keep my grades up,” Takashi tells them. It’s very important. One of the couples he stayed with wouldn’t feed him if he failed his tests. And decent grades are one of the few things he can do to make people happy, so they’ll let him stay a little longer.

It doesn’t matter that he’s sick. He needs to do well on the math test.

When they reach the school, all the other yokai students are arriving, too. The students are a parade of strange figures, some almost human, some like animals or something else entirely. Many of them wear masks with their school uniforms.

Shigure-sama is waiting for Takashi at the gate.

“Natsume-dono,” Shigure-sama greets. He has a bucket on his head, with a hole revealing one eye, which scrutinizes him. “Why are you not dressed for school? Where are your things? Why do you not have the Book of Friends, or the omamori I gifted you?”

Takashi looks down at himself. He’s still in his pajamas, and barefoot. “I left the omamori at home. I’m sorry for being rude. Reiko took the Book, I’m trying to get it back.”

Shigure-sama’s eye gentles. “Ah. Now that you’re defeated, will she take your name?”

“She hasn’t won yet,” Takashi protests, though he was supposed to catch up to Reiko, and he has no idea where she is now.

“Of course not,” soothes Tsuyukami. “Don’t worry. You’ve always been one of us.”

“I know,” Takashi sighs.

They go to class. All the yokai students there are ones he’s helped or returned a Name to, and there are so many they barely fit into the classroom. He waves to Arasaki and the white crane yokai waves back.

And then he sees that their teacher today is Reiko. No, it looks like Reiko, but it’s actually Nyanko-sensei.

“Where’s my offering?” Sensei asks, stopping them.

“I’m sorry, I forgot,” Takashi says. He didn’t get his bento from Touko-san before he left.

Sensei’s eyes narrow as he notices Susugi’s pouch. “You gave him an offering. That should have been mine!”

“I’m hungry,” Susugi says, holding the pouch protectively.

“And where’s the Book?” Sensei says, angry. “You promised it to me! You had no right to give it away!”

“I didn’t,” Takashi protests, shaking his head. “Reiko took it. I’m trying to get it back but I can’t miss my test.”

Sensei takes a step forward, green eyes seeing right into Takashi’s soul. “Book. Bodyguard. That’s the deal. Don’t bother with your little math test, you failed.”

“No, please,” Takashi begs. “I’m sorry about the berries, they’re so sour, I didn’t think you’d want them.”

Sensei scoffs. “You’re an idiot. You don’t think at all. Now get out of my class. You’re expelled.”

Expelled?! If he’s expelled, he’ll have to move. And then he’ll never see Mikuri again. “Please don’t!” he begs. “Please, I’ll do anything!”

But Sensei has already turned away.

“I’m sorry, Natsume-dono,” Shigure-sama says, saddened. “Perhaps we will meet again in the next world.”

“But I can’t go, not yet,” Takashi pleads. “I need to see Mikuri.”

“He’s in the other class,” Tsuyukami reminds him.

The other class! Takashi rushes out of the classroom, and the hallway is an abandoned railroad track running through a forest. He tries to run but his lungs hurt and his body feels so weak. He staggers forward anyway, he has to get to Mikuri’s classroom before it’s too late.

When he opens the classroom door, fear freezes the blood in his veins.

This room is full of yokai students too, but not the ones he’s helped. These are the ones that frightened and hurt him, or tried to eat him. The rows of desks seem to stretch on forever.

All the yokai turn to stare at him. Some lick their lips.

“Natsume,” greets a voice, familiar and menacing.

No. No, it can’t be—

But it is. The teacher is the yokai that stalked him back in Chigasaki City, the one who wanted to abduct and torture him. Takashi sealed him in the ground, he should be trapped forever. But somehow he escaped.

Takashi wants to call for Nyanko-sensei to protect him. But he lost the Book. No one will save him.

He turns to run away, but branches grow out from the classroom floor and bind him, wrap tight around his legs and then all the way up to his neck. He struggles but the branches are too strong.

The teacher walks up to him, his huge smile in a wide, satisfied grin. “I told you, you can’t live with humans. You never should have run from me. Now I have to punish you.”

“You can’t!” Takashi cries, desperate. “A human child can’t just disappear. People will notice. The people I live with— They’ll get in trouble!”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not human,” the teacher laughs. “No one will miss you at all. But don’t worry, you’ll be perfect as my pet. Your saddened heart will be my feast!”

Takashi struggles harder, desperate to escape as the teacher steps closer, as the students get up from their desks. He can feel all of them staring into his soul, can feel their hunger for his power and his sadness.

It was always going to end like this.

And then someone steps in front of him. A baseball bat swings and smashes into the teacher, knocking him back with brutal force.

Reiko.

“I don’t like bullies,” Reiko tells the class, as she points her bat at them, threatening. The students rush back to their seats and cower in fear.

“He’s mine!” growls the teacher, still on the floor.

“Not anymore,” Reiko says. She turns and glares at the branches, and they shudder and retreat, releasing Takashi and rushing back into the floor.

Takashi staggers and falls against the chalkboard, barely holding himself up. “Why?” he asks, baffled. “Why did you save me?”

She doesn’t answer. She only smirks and pushes him out the door.

And then he’s standing in his bedroom, at the Fujiwara house.

He shouldn’t be here anymore. He has to leave.

He walks to the window and drags it open, but it takes so much effort.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Nyanko-sensei asks, walking over. He’s back in his cat form again.

“I have to go,” Takashi tells him. Yokai always leave through the window. He reaches for the sill to climb out, but Nyanko-sensei hops up and blocks the way.

“Use the door,” Nyanko-sensei tells him.

Takashi doesn’t have the strength to argue. “Okay,” he says.

Then he remembers, if he’s leaving he has to pack. But he’s too tired to carry everything. And yokai don’t need human clothes or toiletries or school books.

He opens the closet and sees the wicker box with Reiko’s things. He doesn’t need that anymore either. He just needs his cardboard box. He can’t leave that behind.

He carries the box out into the hall, then down the stairs. He smells food and hears noises in the kitchen. Touko-san must be cooking. That’s good.

He’s sliding open the front door when he realizes Nyanko-sensei followed him downstairs. “You should go eat,” he tells him.

“You should go back to bed,” Nyanko-sensei replies.

Takashi walks outside, and Nyanko-sensei continues to follow him. The sun is so bright, it hurts his eyes.

A car arrives as he reaches the street. And then Shigeru-san is standing in front of him, looking worried.

“Takashi? What are you doing out here?”

Takashi bows to him, or at least tries to without falling over. “Thank you for letting me live here. I’m sorry for troubling you.”

Takashi tries to keep walking, but Shigeru-san blocks his way.

“Where are you trying to go?” Shigeru-san asks.

“It’s all right,” Takashi assures him. “You don’t need to find someone to take me.” He’s a yokai, he doesn’t need a home. He’ll live in the mountains like everyone else.

“Take you?” Shigeru-san asks.

Sadness suddenly wells up in him, and trickles out his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. He should give Shigeru-san something, but all he has is the box, and he can’t give him that. He bows again and almost falls over, but Shigeru-san catches him and holds him up.

“Takashi-kun!” Touko-san calls, alarmed, as she rushes over. “What are you doing out here?” She turns to Shigeru-san. “I thought he was sleeping.”

“Apparently not,” Shigeru-san says, strained. “Let’s get you inside.”

“But I have to go,” Takashi insists, as he’s guided back.

“Do you want to see Kaname-kun?” Touko-san asks. “I know you’re worried about him.”

She does? “He’s hurt,” Takashi says.

“I just saw him,” Shigeru-san soothes. “He looked fine. He has a cold, that’s all.”

Takashi knows that isn’t true. Tanuma almost died again. He got a terrible migraine. And now the Book is gone, so Nyanko-sensei won’t be around to protect him. Takashi can’t be friends with Kitamoto or Nishimura anymore either. What if even the Fujiwaras get hurt because of him?

“I have to go,” Takashi tells them, resisting as much as he can as they reach the front door.

Instead of forcing him inside, Shigeru-san steps in front of him. “Why do you have to go?” he asks, gently.

Takashi can’t answer that. He can’t.

“You’re very sick,” Shigeru-san tells him. “You shouldn’t travel when you’re sick. Right?”

Takashi reluctantly nods.

“You have to rest so you can get better,” Shigeru-san says. “If you do that, then— Once you’re better, if you still need to go, we’ll take you wherever you want. All right?”

It’s not all right. He knows he has to leave right now. But he doesn’t think he can walk to the end of the street, much less all the way to the train station. His muscles are trembling from the effort of standing. The box doesn’t have much in it, but it feels so heavy.

His hold on the box slips, and it’s going to fall and spill everything on the ground. But Shigeru-san takes it easily, and hands it to Touko-san.

He turns back just in time to catch Takashi, too.

Takashi gasps awake as he’s lowered into water.

“It’s all right,” Shigeru-san soothes, as he positions Takashi in the bathtub. Takashi feels hot and cold, fevered and shivering, but the water is tepid.

“We need to get your fever down,” Touko-san soothes. “Just rest.”

Takashi rests.

He wakes up back in his bed, dressed in fresh pajamas. Nyanko-sensei is beside him, his legs tucked neatly beneath him.

Takashi gasps in alarm as he realizes he’s not wearing his waist pack. Where is it?

“What’s wrong now?” Nyanko-sensei asks.

“The Book,” Takashi starts. Then he remembers, and slumps back down. “Reiko took it. Why are you still here?”

Nyanko-sensei gives him a tolerant look. “Reiko died a long time ago. As you’re so fond of telling every yokai we meet.”

“But she took it,” Takashi insists. He remembers her taking it.

“It’s right over there,” Nyanko-sensei says, and twitches his ear towards the desk.

The waist pack is on the desk. The Fujiwaras must have put it there, when they brought him back here after the bath. He can see the shape of the book inside it.

Wait. Was the bath real? What about the rest? He barely knows what’s real when he isn’t sick. Now it’s hopeless. Everything feels the same. Maybe he’s dreaming now.

“Are you real?” he asks Nyanko-sensei.

“What a ridiculous question,” Nyanko-sensei scoffs. “Don’t worry about my Book. I won’t let anything happen to it.”

“Good,” Takashi says, relieved. As long as the Book is okay, so is everything else.

But he can’t leave it sitting there. He crawls out of bed and puts the waist pack back on, covers it with his shirt. Then he crawls back into bed.

That’s better. He feels better. Maybe his fever is better too. If the bath was real, he thinks it helped.

Touko-san comes in to check on him. She takes his temperature.

“It’s a little better,” she says, relieved. “Thank goodness.”

She feeds him broth and juice, puts a damp cloth on his forehead. She looks down at him with such tender worry. It makes Takashi’s heart ache strangely.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her, ashamed.

But it must have been the wrong thing to say, because it makes her sad. “You’re still very sick. Please keep resting.”

“Okay,” Takashi says. He wants to apologize for making her sad, but his apology is what made her sad. He never knows what to say to humans to make them happy. He’s too tired to talk anyway.

“Such a good kitty,” Touko-san says, as she pets Nyanko-sensei. “Keep staying with him, Nyankichi. We have to take care of him until he’s better.”

Nyanko-sensei gives an agreeing meow.

Chapter Text

While his dad is taking Natsume home, Kaname goes to the kitchen and heats up a bowl of the rice and curry in the fridge. He doubts he’ll be able to eat much of anything tomorrow, so he forces down the food even though his appetite is already dwindling.

He goes to his room and looks at his bed, and thinks about spending the next day or more lying there in throbbing pain. And an idea comes to him.

He leaves a note for his dad. Then he gathers up his pillow and blanket, then walks out into the backyard, past the main hall and through the trees until he reaches the shrine.

Natsume said shrines are safe.

Despite how he feels, he takes a moment to wash his hands and mouth at the fountain. He bows to the shrine, then carries his bedding into the sanctuary.

It probably won’t help to be in here. More spirit-feeling is the last thing Kaname needs. And even if there’s a chance it might help, even if retreating to a shrine might keep spirits away and stop him from getting a migraine, the fact is he already has a bad one, and Natsume didn’t say anything about shrines helping with that.

It probably won’t work, but he’s tried far more desperate things than this. So he puts his bedding down on the floor beside the hidden shintai, where the spirit-feeling is strongest. He lies down and bears the pain, like always.

He must have slipped into a doze, because he’s woken by the sound of the shrine door sliding open.

“What are you doing in here?” Dad asks, confused and worried. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything,” Kaname groans. He sneezes. His body already aches from fever.

His dad bends down to help him up. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

“No,” Kaname says, pushing him away. “I need to sleep here. Natsume said it’s safe.”

“Safe?” Dad asks.

“No monsters,” Kaname says. “They can’t get in. Protection.”

“Protection?” Dad echoes. He looks around at the walls. “He said being in a shrine would help your migraines?”

“No,” Kaname admits. “Just— Need to try.”

“All right,” Dad says, accepting. “But let me get you a futon.”

His dad leaves, then comes back with a futon. Kaname stands unsteadily while his dad sets up a proper bed for him inside the sanctuary. His dad helps him down, tucks him in. Then he says he’ll be right back and leaves again.

His dad comes back with another futon, which he sets up beside Kaname’s. On his next trip he brings a tissue box and wastebasket, water, and all the other usual supplies for both a migraine and a cold.

“I don’t want you to get sick, too,” Kaname protests.

“If being in here starts making you worse, I need to get you out,” Dad says, firmly. “I’ll be fine. Do you feel any different yet?”

“No,” Kaname says. He does feel worse, but it’s probably just the fever and migraine setting in. He feels awful, but exactly as awful as he expects to feel.

“If you do, tell me right away. Please.”

“I will,” Kaname promises. He curls onto his side, facing the shintai, and closes his eyes. He’s too exhausted to stay awake any longer. He thinks about how the spirit-feeling of the shintai feels like Natsume. Or maybe Natsume feels like a shintai.

He dreams of holding food out to Natsume, but it keeps disappearing from his hands.

When he wakes up in the middle of the night, his head still throbs, and he’s burning up from fever, shivering from chills. Dad checks his temperature, then gives him his next doses of medicine.

Kaname lies back down and feels angry with himself for hoping. He knows better than to hope. Nothing is ever going to heal him.

In the morning, he cracks open his eyes, and winces from the sunlight through the slatted windows. He still feels awful and his head still hurts.

But to his cautious surprise, it hurts less.

It shouldn’t. The way he felt last night, he should be in absolute agony right now. The light shouldn’t just be uncomfortable. Every single photon should be actively trying to drill through his eyeballs and explode his skull.

But he feels like he does on recovery days. After the migraines have finished raging through him.

He sneezes hard, several times. His cold hasn’t gone anywhere, and he still aches with fever. But the fever feels less intense. Sometimes he gets fevers from the spirits, and sometimes he gets them the normal way. If he got both at once—

Dad sits up, rubs his face. “Let me check your temperature,” he says, reaching automatically for the thermometer.

Kaname is afraid to say anything. If he’s wrong, if it’s a coincidence, if his migraine wasn’t as bad as he thought it was— Or it could just be the medicine— His fevers aren’t as predictable, this one might just be ending a little early—

The last thing he wants to do is give his dad false hope, too.

The thermometer beeps. “Good, it’s going down,” Dad says. “Do you think you can eat something?”

Kaname expects his stomach to rebel at the mere idea of food. But instead he actually feels a little hungry. “Yeah, I think so.”

His dad looks at him. Hesitates, visibly wondering. Then he shakes his head and gets up, and goes out to make them breakfast.

They eat breakfast in the shrine, and it’s clear that both of them are afraid to state the obvious. Kaname lies back down, still tired, and sleeps some more.

When he wakes up around midday, his head is still a little tender. But he feels like he does the day after a recovery day. Nothing has ever helped him recover this quickly, no treatment or medication, no ritual or prayer, nothing.

He’s stopped shivering. He takes his own temperature. It’s still higher than normal, but lower again than it was this morning.

His dad comes in and sees him.

They stare at each other, and it’s even harder to state the obvious now. Then Kaname sneezes.

“Have some more cold medicine,” Dad says. He picks up the bottle and pours out a dose. Kaname takes it, washes it down with some water. “I have— You— Do you need anything else? Let me check your fever.”

Kaname lets him.

His dad sits back. “How did we miss this?” he asks, stunned and distraught.

“It could be a coincidence,” Kaname protests. “Maybe it was something else, maybe—“

“We tried everything else,” Dad says. “We knew temples were safer, why did we never try shrines?”

“People don’t live in shrines,” Kaname points out.

“They work in them,” Dad counters. “You’ve worked in them.”

“Not when I was already feeling sick,” Kaname says. “I’d stay home.”

They look at each other, the reality of it all sinking in.

“It was right under our noses,” Dad says, devastated. “All this time.”

Kaname looks at the shintai, feels the spirit-feeling emanating out of it. Only priests are allowed to enter the sanctuary, and only to perform rituals.

Kaname’s dad would absolutely have smuggled him into a sanctuary before this, if he thought it had the slightest chance of helping. But they never thought of it.

Not until Natsume said that shrines are safe.

“I don’t care that we missed it,” Kaname says, shock finally giving way to amazement. “I feel better, Dad. My migraine is gone. It’s actually gone.”

His dad visibly struggles to shake off his own shock. He reaches out and holds Kaname’s head in his hands. Then he pulls Kaname close and starts sobbing. And Kaname starts crying, too.

“Okay,” Dad says, once he starts to calm down. “Okay, now what? Do you have to stay here? If you leave the shrine, will it come back?”

“I don’t know,” Kaname says. “But if it gets worse again, I can come back here. Right?”

“Right,” Dad says, still shocked and hardly believing it. But just as amazed as Kaname. “But you still have a cold?”

“I think it’s just a normal cold,” Kaname says.

“Right,” Dad says again. He wipes at his eyes. “How about— Let’s get you back to the house. I’ll make you some tea.”

Kaname grabs his blanket and the tissue box, and they walk cautiously outside. They pause there, waiting to see if anything happens. When Kaname feels exactly the same, they keep going.

Kaname sits on the veranda outside his bedroom, a warm blanket around him and a hot tea in his hands. He shouldn’t be able to sit out here today, without even sunglasses. He should be lying in the dark in his bed, barely able to exist.

His dad sits with him, but then gets up, full of anxious energy, and goes inside. Kaname can hear him pacing around, dazed and restless.

Maybe later, Kaname will be the same way. After so long, and so many failures, it’s still hard to believe they actually found something that helps. More than helps. He still has a cold, but his spirit-induced migraine is gone. Actually gone.

Kaname’s life has always been full of things that everyone else thinks are impossible. But this feels more impossible than all of them.

The doorbell rings, and Kaname looks back through the open interior doors to the entrance. His dad opens the front door. It’s Shigeru-san and he’s carrying a container.

“Shigeru!” Dad greets, surprised. “I forgot you were coming. Oh! The clothes! I’ll be right back.” He rushes away.

“Kaname,” Shigeru greets. “How are you feeling? We’ve been thinking about you.”

Kaname answers that with another sneeze. “Better, thank you. How’s Natsume?”

“He has quite a fever,” Shigeru says, frowning. “Touko’s keeping a close eye on him. How’s your migraine?”

Dad hurries back. “I’m so sorry. I got distracted and left the boys’ clothes in the wash. I’m running it now, they need more than one cycle anyway.”

“It’s all right,” Shigeru says. “Takashi won’t be at school tomorrow.”

“How is he?” Dad asks.

“This fever’s hit him hard,” Shigeru says. “If it doesn’t improve by tomorrow, we might bring him to the hospital.”

Dad glances over to Kaname, and both of them are clearly thinking the same thing.

They can’t tell Shigeru to bring Natsume here to let the shrine treat him. Besides, maybe Natsume’s fever is just from his normal cold. As far as Kaname knows, Natsume doesn’t get migraines from spirits.

But he did have a fever last week, after the trial of courage.

Natsume is the one who told Kaname about shrines in the first place. If he needs one, wouldn’t he just go to one himself?

But the Fujiwaras don’t know. Even if Natsume knows staying in a sanctuary will help his fever, he can’t tell them the way Kaname told his dad. And he can’t just get up and leave, not when the Fujiwaras are watching over him, worrying. And even if he could sneak out, it sounds like he’s too sick to walk.

Kaname felt like the helpless one yesterday, in so many ways. But now Natsume’s the one who needs help.

“I don’t want to leave Touko alone with him for long,” Shigeru says, as he hands the soup to Dad. He turns to Kaname. “I’m very glad to see you’re feeling better. Please enjoy the soup.”

They say their goodbyes, and Shigeru drives away.

“We’re going to eat this, and then we’re going to talk about yesterday,” Dad says.

Kaname comes back inside with him, and they have Touko’s soup as their lunch. He hopes Natsume is having some of it, too.

He realizes his dad is staring at him in amazement again. “Going to keep doing that?”

“Yes, until I believe it,” Dad says. Then he shakes his head. “All right. Tell me all those details you were too sick for yesterday.”

Kaname has to take a moment to appreciate the fact that he’s healthy enough to have this conversation and it hasn’t even been a full day since his migraine started. But thinking about Natsume sharpens his focus.

“It wasn’t like the trial of courage,” Kaname starts. “I couldn’t actually see the yokai, I guess because there wasn’t a kekkai? Just the usual shadows, and Ponta. But—“ He pauses, searching for the words. “It’s not that I could see any better. But I could follow Natsume’s eyes, so I knew where exactly to look. And Santo was big and slow, so I could track his shadow pretty easy.”

“Tell me about Santo,” Dad says.

“Natsume said he was like a—“ What was it? Capy— “A capybara. You ever see one?”

Dad shakes his head.

“They’re like giant rodents with horse faces, I guess?” Kaname says. He needs to look them up. “But Santo was huge, like, over fifteen feet tall. He picked Natsume up and swung him around like it was nothing! He swung me around!”

“He attacked you?” Dad asks, concerned.

“He was just really excited to see Natsume at first,” Kaname explains. “So the whole thing started with Reiko. She was friends with Santo when she lived here, and she promised to help him, but she never came back. Natsume said he had to fulfill her promise. That’s why we had to go to Kiriganuma. And—“ He pauses again. “Before we left, Natsume did something. I don’t know what it was. He didn’t want me to see, but I could feel it.”

“What did you feel?”

“I don’t know,” Kaname admits. “But it was powerful. Anyway, so everything was fine, but then— I couldn’t see what attacked us. But something picked me and Natsume up, like right up into the air. And then Ponta saved us, but— He turned into something else again. Something huge and furry.”

“Of course he did,” Dad says, somewhat overwhelmed.

“He carried us so high!” Kaname says, excited as he remembers how wonderful that moment was. “I couldn’t really see Ponta, so it was like me and Natsume were soaring like birds!” He grins. “It was so amazing. A lot of it was scary, but— It was amazing.”

Dad’s expression softens, and he smiles back.

“But Kiriganuma was rough,” Kaname says, sobering. “Mikuri, Santo’s friend— He was possessed by earth spirits. He was huge and angry and— He attacked us. I tried to stay back but he grabbed me and—“ He hates having to tell his dad about things like this. But he doesn’t want to keep it from him either. “I fell in the water. Something in there held me down, I think it was the earth spirits. I almost drowned. But Natsume and Santo saved me. And then Ponta exorcised the earth spirits, so Mikuri was saved, too. And then it was over, and Santo and Mikuri went back to the mountains together. And then you came.”

He says the last of it in a rush, trying to reassure his dad. But he doesn’t think it worked.

“You almost drowned,” Dad says, unhappy.

“Almost?” Kaname offers. “Please don’t be mad, it wasn’t Natsume’s fault. He wanted me to go home as soon as we saw Santo. He made me give Ponta extra food so I’d be protected. And I’m okay. I don’t even have a migraine anymore. Natsume told me about the shrines because he wanted me to be safe, but he had to go and I couldn’t just walk away, I—”

“All right, all right,” Dad sighs. “I’m not mad at either of you.”

“What if Natsume needs to go to a shrine to get better, and he can’t?” Kaname asks, the question still plaguing him.

“I don’t know,” Dad says. “But Nyanko-sensei is with him. And if he can turn into a human girl and a flying giant, and he can exorcise angry spirits, then I think Takashi is in good hands. And I’m starting to understand how important Nyanko-sensei is to him. I thought Takashi only met him a few weeks ago. How did he survive all this time without him?”

“I have no idea,” Kaname admits. “I guess he used the shrines?” But that hardly seems like enough.

“Come give me a hug,” Dad says, strained.

Kaname obliges. His dad holds him close, then sighs and releases him.

“It frightens me how dangerous the spirit world can be,” Dad admits. “I can’t even begin to say how grateful I am that we’ve found a treatment for your migraines. I want you and Takashi to continue your friendship, I think it’s very important. But twice now the two of you have ended up in a life-threatening situation. Something needs to be done.”

“But you said you aren’t mad,” Kaname protests.

“I’m not,” Dad says. “But just as you couldn’t let Takashi go into danger alone, I have to do something to make your situation less perilous. I stopped soothing the monsters because the ones here asked me to stop. And they’ve left you alone since then. So clearly some spirits can be reasoned with.”

“Santo wasn’t dangerous,” Kaname offers. “And I guess Mikuri wasn’t either, once Ponta helped him.”

“Which leaves the earth spirits,” Dad says. “We need to know more about them. Can Takashi reason with them? Or perhaps they do need soothing. Or more exorcising. We’ve met exorcists. They couldn’t help with your migraines, but that doesn’t mean they’re useless. Perhaps we need to bring one in to help manage the area.”

“Natsume said exorcists can protect themselves from yokai,” Kaname offers. “But I don’t think we should do anything on our own. Natsume and Ponta have to be part of this.”

“Agreed,” Dad says. “For now, I’m going to reach out to my old exorcist contacts. See if there’s anyone nearby they could recommend.”

“Can exorcists sense yokai?” Kaname asks. The ones he met years ago couldn’t do anything for his migraines, and didn’t say anything about sensing spirits themselves. So he’d honestly written them off as fakes. But Natsume seems to take them seriously.

“When I asked, I was told they couldn’t,” Dad says. “But now that we’ve found Takashi, I wonder. They are a secretive bunch.”

“You think they lied to us?” Kaname asks, unsettled.

“It’s not as if we tell everyone about the spirits,” Dad points out. “And neither does Takashi. I can understand if they were being cautious.”

“I guess,” Kaname says. It is understandable. Except as soon as he and Natsume found each other, they were eager to share their truths with someone who could understand. Wouldn’t the exorcists feel the same way?

Kaname sneezes again.

“Even without that migraine, you need to rest,” Dad says. He collects their bowls and brings them to the sink. “And you’re not going to school tomorrow.”

“I’ll miss my math test,” Kaname protests.

“As pleased as I am that you’re excited for a math test, it can wait until you’re not sick.”

“I feel so much better,” Kaname insists. “Maybe I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“You still have a low-grade fever and you’re emptying that tissue box,” Dad points out.

Kaname slumps and gives a heartfelt sigh.

Dad comes back over. “What happened today is a miracle. I am so, so happy right now. But this is new. There’s so much we don’t know yet. We need to take this slowly. Please?”

“Okay, okay.”

“Thank you,” Dad said. He ruffles Kaname’s hair. “So where do you want to rest?”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Lots of scrubbing. I need to clean everything that got muddy yesterday.”

“I’ll take a hot bath,” Kaname says. “Then I’ll rest in living room.” He knows they’ll both feel better staying close. “We can test if my migraine stays gone. I’ll watch some TV.”

“Perfect,” Dad says. He looks at Kaname with amazement again.

Kaname gives his dad another hug, needing it just as much himself.

Chapter Text

To his surprise, Kaname has visitors that afternoon.

“Your friends are here,” Dad says, very pleased about it, and escorts in Sasada, Nishimura, and Kitamoto. Nishimura and Sasada glare at each other, then both smile at Kaname along with Kitamoto.

“We heard you and Natsume both got sick again,” Kitamoto says. “We thought we’d see how you’re doing and give you your homework.”

“Did you get another headache?” Nishimura asks. “I said if your head hurts, the last thing you’d want is homework.”

“I brought your homework and your books,” Sasada says, and takes Kaname’s schoolbooks out of her bag, the ones he left behind yesterday. “And study notes for the material you missed.”

Nishimura glares at Sasada again, but she ignores him and happily offers out the books and papers.

“Thank you,” Kaname says, accepting them as well as the duplicate homework Kitamoto gives him. They obviously didn’t plan this together, but that only makes them showing up like this more meaningful. “This was really thoughtful of you. I did have a headache, but it’s better now. But I’m still kinda sick.”

“We won’t stay long,” Kitamoto says. “We’re bringing Natsume his homework, too.”

“And his books,” Sasada adds.

“What did you guys get up to yesterday?” Nishimura asks. “We heard you went exploring and fell into a pond?”

Word travels incredibly fast in this town. Natsume was already the rumor mill’s favorite topic, Kaname’s involvement must be fuel to the fire.

“Yeah, after that tour you gave us, we wanted to try going out on our own,” Kaname says, sticking to the story his dad told the Fujiwaras.

“It was smart to leave your books at school,” Kitamoto says.

“Yeah, if anything can go wrong with Natsume, it usually does,” Nishimura says, resigned but fond. “Did you hear about his fever? It’s the worst one yet.”

“I did, yes,” Kaname says, and tries not to show how hearing that makes him even more worried about Natsume. His dad might be okay letting Ponta and the Fujiwaras handle things, but Kaname doesn’t think he’ll stop worrying until Natsume’s fever breaks. And maybe not even then. “If you’re going over there next, I’m coming, too.”

“But you’re sick,” Sasada says, concerned.

“It’s just a cold,” Kaname says. He pushes off his blanket and stands up. He does still feel bad, but it’s nothing compared to how he felt last night. And the euphoria of his migraine being gone still hasn’t worn off. “Let me go tell my dad.”

His dad, of course, was lurking just around the corner, and probably looked very pleased with himself for Kaname having all these caring friends. But when Kaname sees him, his expression is concerned.

“I need to see him,” Kaname says, determined. He’s not really up to a walk, but if he has to—

His dad’s resistance melts immediately. “Go get changed, I’ll take all of you over.”

They all pile into the car.

Despite their obvious worry and stress, the Fujiwaras are delighted to have all of them visit.

“Takashi-kun is still very sick,” Touko-san cautions. “But I’m sure it will cheer him up to see you. Especially you, Kaname-kun. He’s been very worried about you. But you’re feeling better?”

“He’s still a little sick,” Dad tells her. “But he’s been worrying about Takashi.”

Touko-san and Dad exchange very parental looks. Kaname hopes his remaining fever hides his blush.

The four of them go up to Natsume’s room.

Natsume looks like Kaname felt last night. His eyes are glassy with fever, and his cheeks have an unhealthy flush. Ponta is sitting beside him, eyes watchful.

Nishimura presses a hand to Natsume’s forehead. “You’re really burning up,” he says, immediately hitting his Natsume heart attack quota.

“Sorry,” Natsume whispers, clearly too tired to talk.

“We brought you your homework, but don’t worry about it until you feel better,” Kitamoto says. “We’ll help you with everything at our next study session, yeah?”

Natsume musters a smile for that, and despite his feverish exhaustion, it’s genuine. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“I brought all your books,” Sasada says, even more visibly worried than Nishimura. She glances at Kaname meaningfully, but the presence of Nishimura and Kitamoto keeps her from asking the obvious question.

He gives her a short nod, silently answering. Her eyes widen, then she looks resolved.

“If there’s anything we can do to help, just say it,” she tells Natsume. “Anything at all.”

Natsume’s expression grows warier, but then softens. “Thank you. I just need to rest. I’ll be fine.”

It’s obvious that even though Natsume really is happy they’re here, he isn’t up for much conversation. Sasada and Nishimura and Kitamoto all tell Natsume to get well soon, that they’ll stop by again tomorrow, that he shouldn’t worry about anything.

When they head downstairs to walk back home, Kaname stays behind.

“I did what you said,” Kaname tells Natsume at last. He’s been ready to burst with the news. “I went to the shrine in the temple and it worked!”

Natsume’s glassy eyes are confused.

“You said shrines are safe,” Kaname reminds him. “You have no idea how many crazy ideas my dad has had me try. I knew it was a long shot, you didn’t say anything about shrines having healing power, but—“

“What are you rambling about?” Ponta asks.

“Spirits give me migraines,” Kaname says, trying to keep his voice low despite his excitement. “I slept in the shrine last night, right next to the shintai, where the spirit-feeling is strongest? And it healed me! It took away the migraine!” He pauses, taking in their expressions. “Don’t you— Didn’t you know about this?”

“Why should I care if a human has a sore head?” Ponta says, defensive.

“I must be dreaming again,” Natsume murmurs.

Kaname rests his palm against Natsume’s forehead. “You really are burning up.” His determination grows. “Ponta, we have to bring him to Yatsuhara.”

“He doesn’t have one of your headaches,” Ponta dismisses.

“No, but the spirits gave him this fever, right?” Kaname challenges. “They give me fevers, too. I know I’m still sick but I was so much worse last night. The shrine— I don’t know, I don’t know how any of this works. But I know it’ll help him, too. We just have to get him there.” He turns back to Natsume. “Are you sure we can’t explain everything to the Fujiwaras? If they knew the truth—“

“No!” Despite Natsume’s feverish confusion, he immediately reacts, sitting up even though the effort makes him tremble. “You can’t tell them. Please!”

“But if they don’t know the truth, they won’t understand,” Kaname says. “Even if they take you to the hospital, there’s nothing the doctors can do, right? That’s how it’s always been for me.”

“I’ll be fine,” Natsume says, though he looks about to collapse and maybe pass out. “Just need a few days. It’s fine.”

His resigned expression hurts Kaname’s heart.

“You’re his bodyguard,” Kaname tells Ponta. “Protect him. Change like you did yesterday and fly him out of here.”

“No!” Natsume says again, glassy eyes full of fear and determination. “If I disappear— I can’t cause them trouble!”

The effort is finally too much for him, and to Kaname’s alarm, he does go limp, passing out for a few long seconds before his eyes struggle open again.

Kaname doesn’t understand why Natsume’s being so stubborn. The Fujiwaras are already extremely troubled by Natsume being dangerously ill. Surely they’ll be thrilled to find a real treatment, no matter how strange it is, just like his dad.

Kaname and his dad have told plenty of people that he can sense spirits. Admittedly most of them were monks, but he has a good sense for who’s safe to tell and who isn’t. He thinks the Fujiwaras would be skeptical and confused, but ultimately accepting.

Kaname realizes that Ponta is staring at him rather intensely. Then Ponta sniffs him.

“Interesting,” Ponta says, considering. “You were in the shrine all night?”

“Right next to the shintai,” Kaname says. “It took a while to work. But nothing has ever helped like this.” He bows his head. “Please. I’ll get you dango or squid or whatever you want. Just help him.”

Ponta narrows his eyes at Kaname. “Fine. But you’ll owe me big for this.”

“Sensei, don’t,” Natsume protests. “The Fujiwaras—“

“They won’t suspect a thing,” Ponta assures him. Then he stares intensely at Natsume.

“What are you—“ Kaname asks, then startles as Ponta disappears in a puff of smoke. And then the smoke clears.

A second Natsume is standing there, identical to the first down to his pajamas and fever flush and glassy eyes. Except for his expression, which is completely unlike Natsume and looks exactly like—

“Ponta?!” Kaname gasps.

“Sensei?!” Natsume gasps.

Natsume-Ponta inspects himself, then gives them a thumbs-up. “How do I look?” He turns around and then poses dramatically. “Aren’t I perfect?” He poses even more dramatically. “Tell me I’m perfect!”

“That’s amazing,” Kaname says, stunned. “Can you turn into anyone?”

“None of your business,” Natsume-Ponta tells him. “You get him to the shrine. I’ll stay here, take lots of naps, and eat Touko’s soup.”

“Thank you,” Kaname says, bowing again in gratitude. He turns to Natsume. “Dad drove us over so we just have to get you to the car. But we have to sneak you out. Can you walk?”

Natsume is still staring at his double, transfixed. Then he looks down at himself. “Am I going to turn into a cat?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Natsume-Ponta says. He sighs. “He’s been like this all day. Absolutely useless. And he already tried sneaking out earlier, so the Fujiwaras will be watching closely. Give me an extra squid and I’ll get him to the car.”

“Done,” Kaname agrees. He definitely understands how Natsume could end up spending his entire allowance on Ponta. But it’s worth every yen. “Thank you, Sensei. This is going to help,” he promises. Then he leaves Natsume with his double.

When he gets downstairs, he finds his dad sitting at the kitchen table with the Fujiwaras.

“Kaname-kun,” Touko-san greets, and waves him over. “Come have some tea with us.”

Kaname’s not sure how long Ponta needs to get Natsume into the car. Probably at least a few minutes. He sits down at the table and politely accepts a tea cup.

“It’s was so thoughtful of you to come over, even though you’re still sick,” Touko-san tells him. “But you mustn’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’m okay,” Kaname assures them. “Thank you so much for the soup. It definitely helped me get better. And thank you again for last week. I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Touko-san insists. “But you boys must be more careful. I’m glad you’re settled in enough to go exploring, but you both have such delicate health.”

“I guess we do,” Kaname admits. “We’ll be careful, thank you.”

“At least your migraine ended quickly this time,” Touko-san says. “Your father was telling us how difficult your migraines have been for both of you. But he thinks you might be starting to grow out of them now? One of those childhood diseases. They’re so unfair. It’s cruel that some children have to miss out on so much, when you should be happy, running around and exploring everything wonderful about the world.” She says it with restrained but passionate belief.

Kaname realizes his dad must be trying out a new cover story. After all, everyone knows about Kaname’s migraines, if they suddenly get better it’ll be suspicious. Not that anyone would ever imagine the truth. Kaname barely believes it himself. But people get uncomfortable when things don’t have an explanation. And his dad brought him here to stay.

“I hope so,” Kaname says. “I have missed out on a lot. Being sick is, uh, it’s really hard.”

“It’s hard for Takashi, too,” Shigeru-san says, with understanding. “I’m glad you two are friends now. Did it help him, to see you?”

“I think so,” Kaname says. Should he give Natsume and Ponta a cover story? Hopefully Ponta will be convincing enough to not need one. But given what he knows about Ponta— “He said he was a little hungry. That’s a good sign, right?”

“A very good sign,” Touko-san says, happy.

“He’s pretty tired, too,” Kaname adds, very much hoping that Natsume does get better and they don’t have to bring him back in the same terrible state. If he could sweat right now he’d be sweating. “He’ll probably sleep a lot.”

“If his fever is going down, his sleep should be more restful,” Touko-san says, with the wisdom of experience. “I’m sure seeing you will help him very much. He was so worried he tried to go see you!”

“He did?” Kaname asks, surprised. Is that what Ponta was talking about, when he said Natsume already tried to sneak out?

“It was lucky I came home when I did,” Shigeru-san says. “He was in no condition to be out of bed, and certainly not wandering around.”

“You should be resting, too,” Touko-san says. “Thank you so much for coming over, Kaname-kun, Kousuke-san.”

“We’ll come by again tomorrow, once Takashi’s things have dried,” Dad says.

They say their goodbyes. As soon as the front door closes behind them, Kaname leans over and whispers, “Natsume’s in the car.”

“What?” Dad says, stopping and staring at him.

“Keep going,” Kaname says, with a tug to his dad’s sleeve. “Look natural.”

They resume their walk.

“Kaname, I know you’re worried about him, but I don’t think this is the answer,” Dad whispers, alarmed. “The Fujiwaras—“

“Ponta’s covering for us,” Kaname whispers. “He turned into Natsume, just like he turned into Reiko.”

His dad is so astonished that he walks right into the front gate wall. Then he hurries to the car, and Kaname hurries, too.

Natsume is lying in the back seat, unconscious.

“May the Buddha forgive us,” Dad mutters, and starts the engine.

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.

Chapter Text

The buildings at Yatsuhara are brand new. But the temple itself has a long history, as Tanuma is happy to tell him.

“It’s been a sacred site for thousands of years,” Tanuma says, as he leads Takashi into the main hall. “It was a shrine before it was a temple. Not the one we stayed in. There didn’t used to be a permanent building at all. Then it was a full shrine complex. Then it was rebuilt as a half-temple, half-shrine.” He stops, blushing. “Sorry, is this too much?”

“I don’t mind,” Takashi says. He looks around at the large hall. Morning sunlight filters in through the bell-shaped windows, gently illuminating the open space. It’s similar to the living quarters, all natural wood and tatami mats lining the floor. Only the altar stands out, with its statues and other objects of enlightenment. “So why did it have to be rebuilt?”

“The government made it illegal to be both,” Tanuma explains. “No one knows exactly what happened, but there was a big fire. The temple was abandoned after that. The monks actually saved everything they could, they hid it all in a cave in the mountains. It was found recently and everything was recovered. That’s why the temple was rebuilt, with the new shrine. To bring everything home.”

Takashi follows Tanuma back to the living quarters. They sit at the entrance and put on their shoes. The shoes Takashi puts on are Tanuma’s, and slightly oversized like everything else. He cuffs his pants and tightens his laces.

They’re familiar actions. Takashi’s often ended up in hand-me-downs that were too big for him. But he never minded. It was kind of those people to let him wear their children’s clothes. When he was little, it even made him hopeful. That maybe it meant he could be their child, too.

But of course it didn’t. Still, it was kind.

“Are you okay to walk around?” Tanuma asks.

“Yes, thank you,” Takashi says. He still feels mildly feverish, achy, but it’s nothing compared to yesterday. He’s kept going through far worse than this.

They walk past the main hall, and the first thing they see is the cemetery. Rows of square columns, family graves all facing east, and a variety of small Jizo statues scattered around. Some of the stones look quite old, with weathering and splotches of lichen, but it’s obvious that the cemetery was restored with great care. The wooden grave markers for each family plot look new, with the long dharma names in freshly written Kanji and Sanskrit. The original ones must have needed to be replaced, like the buildings.

“Dad’s still preparing to be ready for funerals. But he said a lot of people visited their ancestors at the grand opening,” Tanuma says, as he leads them along the gravel path. “I think there’s one for the Fujiwaras. Want to look?”

Takashi hesitates. It might be a good idea to pay his respects, and thank them for the house he’s living in. But it doesn’t feel right to do that without the Fujiwaras’ permission. When he’s been brought to cemeteries and funerals, the people he lived with didn’t want him to participate. He was only there because they couldn’t leave him in their home alone, where he — or more accurately, a yokai — might break something. So he’d wait in the car or somewhere else out of the way.

“Maybe later,” Takashi says.

“Okay,” Tanuma says, but then he hesitates. “I was wondering— You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but— Can you see ghosts? I mean, are any of the spirits human spirits?”

“Probably,” Takashi admits. “But it can be— Some yokai look human. And—“ Should he talk about this? Will it upset Tanuma? He doesn’t want to upset him. But Nyanko-sensei needed to know, as his bodyguard. So the Tanumas need to know, too.

That doesn’t make it any easier to say.

“I get confused, sometimes.” All the time. “Everything of the spirit world— Looks and feels real to me.”

“Don’t spirits feel like spirits to you?” Tanuma asks.

“I guess,” Takashi says, though feeling isn’t how he tells most things apart. “But everything feels like spirits. So I can’t really tell— Which things— I’m supposed to be able to see.”

Saying all this to another human— Even a human like Tanuma— Takashi can’t help but brace himself for the worst. For anger and rejection and punishment. To be called a liar. He’s always called a liar. His whole body is tense and it’s hard to breathe, but whatever Tanuma is going to do to him, he’s ready to accept it.

But Tanuma only looks at him with sympathy. “That actually sounds kinda awful. You really can’t tell the difference?”

Takashi shakes his head. If he could tell the difference, he would have realized much sooner that Tanuma-san is a noble being. But spirit or human, kami is kami. Why a particular thing or being is part of one world or the other is something he’s never understood.

“But then— How do you know what you’re seeing? Or what other people can see?” Tanuma asks, distressed.

Takashi doesn’t want him to be distressed. “I don’t,” he answers. “But it’s fine. It’s just how it is.” He looks for something to change the subject to. Something he knows they can both see.

West of the cemetery is what looks like a forest garden. To the north is the shrine they slept in. Both are probably real. But Tanuma couldn’t see the pond in his backyard. So the shrine is safer.

“We should pay our respects,” he says, gesturing to the shrine. He wants to make an offering, but he doesn’t have anything right now. Even his clothes are borrowed. But Tanuma needs to learn about this, too, especially if they’re going to be asking for help with fevers and migraines along with everything else. “It’s important to visit shrines when things are calm. To give thanks for their protection and make offerings.”

“Of course,” Tanuma says. And he really does seem to understand. “How about we do it after we finish the tour? Then my dad can join us.”

“Yes,” Takashi agrees. His tension eases, but everything going so well feels completely unreal.

They head north past the shrine. There’s no path here, but Tanuma confidently leads the way into the woods. To the southeast, the main hall and living quarters are just visible through the trees. And directly to the east is more woods, though the area looks boggy. It reminds him a little of Kiriganuma, but that’s not an association he wants to make about something so close to where Tanuma lives.

He thought they were staying on the temple property, where it’s mostly safe. But a pair of small yokai peek out from the undergrowth, see them, then yelp and run away. Weak ones like those shouldn’t be able to enter the temple grounds.

They reach a small clearing that opens to a large one. There’s ruins in both, but only a scattering of old foundation stones and burned logs.

“This is where the old shrine complex was,” Tanuma says. “There was a kagura hall here, and a fountain. And over there was the fence that ran around the hall and the sanctuary building. The forest hasn’t filled in yet so it still gets a lot of sun. And there’s a stream we can use for irrigation. What do you think? For the vegetable garden?”

“But it was a shrine?” Takashi says, confused.

Tanuma shrugs. “Dad says it’s fine. The shintai from this shrine is in the new shrine now. Besides, every temple I’ve lived in has had a vegetable garden. What’s more sacred than growing food?”

All that makes sense. Takashi just wishes he could be sure. He doesn’t want to offend any spirits or gods. But everything in and around Yatsuhara is overflowing with kami, from the temple to the fields where he first met Tanuma-san. It’s no wonder a noble being was drawn to this place.

Takashi decides to trust Tanuma-san’s judgment, the same way he trusts Nyanko-sensei’s. And he feels the same thing he felt over breakfast, a weight lifting off his shoulders.

He thought he’d have to hide everything that makes him different, forever. Not even to have a friend, but to have his existence tolerated by the world at all. But here he is, sharing things he didn’t think he’d tell any human for the rest of his life. And somehow, impossibly, he’s also planning a vegetable garden with his friend. So they can spend time here together with their other friends and have fun.

He can’t help it. He has to turn away and wipe the tears from his eyes.

“You okay?” Tanuma asks, concerned.

“Yeah,” Takashi says, and to his surprise it’s actually the truth. He’s smiling. He’s happy. And it still hurts, like happiness always hurts. But it doesn’t hurt as much somehow.

They walk around the open area, and talk about where to put the garden, and how big it should be, and what to plant where. Both of them are smiling and excited. This might be the happiest Takashi has ever been.

And then Tanuma winces and rubs at his head. And the Mid-Ranks show up.

“Natsume-sama!” they chant as they rush out from the trees, delighted to see him. “Natsume-sama!”

“No, wait!” Takashi yelps, but the ox yokai is already picking him up and spinning him around.

“Natsume?!” Tanuma calls, reaching for him in alarm.

“Stay back!” Takashi warns. “Put me down!” he orders.

“We’re so happy you came to see us!” says the cyclops yokai, clapping his hands joyfully. Then he looks around and frowns. “Where’s Madara? If he’s drinking without us—“

“Sake?” says the ox yokai, as he finally puts Takashi down. “Where’s the sake?”

“That’s what I want to know,” says the cyclops yokai. Then he notices Tanuma. And sniffs him. “Oh, this must be your human friend. Madara told us about him. Hello Natsume’s human friend!” He waves at Tanuma, who squints at the cyclops. The Mid-Ranks must be powerful enough for him to see them as shadows.

“Sensei told you?” Takashi asks, wary.

“Oh yes,” the cyclops yokai says, confident. Then he frowns again. “What was it he said?”

“Sake! Sake!” The ox yokai chants. He picks Takashi up again. “A picnic with Natsume-sama!”

“I’m not here for a picnic!” Takashi protests, trying in vain to wriggle free.

“Natsume-sama!” The kappa comes out of the trees, too, followed by a few smaller yokai. They all start chanting his name, and “Picnic!” and “Sake!” and Takashi realizes he’s in danger of being dragged off into the woods with them.

“I said let me go!” Takashi yells, and punches the ox yokai right between his horns. Takashi is roughly dropped, but springs back to his feet and stands protectively in front of Tanuma.

“Natsume-sama,” the ox yokai whines, and rubs his sore head.

“Where is that white piglet?” the cyclops yokai asks.

“He’s taking care of something for me,” Takashi says, not eager to reveal that his bodyguard is stuck pretending to be him to the Fujiwaras. “He’ll be back soon.”

“What’s going on?” Tanuma asks, worried.

“It’s nothing,” Takashi insists, but realizes that he needs to give some explanation. “It’s some yokai I helped. They’re not dangerous. They just—“ He blushes. How can he admit that these yokai consider themselves his followers? “They’re having a picnic.”

“A picnic?” Tanuma says, surprised. “So they’re like Santo? Not dangerous?”

“Is your head hurting again?” Takashi asks.

“A little,” Tanuma admits. “But I’m okay. I guess now we know I can still get headaches.”

“You’re hurting my friend,” Takashi tells the yokai. “Please leave him alone.”

“Oh, that was it!” the cyclops yokai says. “Madara said to stay away from the temple.”

“No, I told you that,” Takashi reminds him. He firmly told the yokai to stay away, in exchange for Tanuma-san no longer purifying the area. “Why are you here?”

“Because you’re here!” says the kappa, cheerful. “We’re so happy to see you!”

Those small yokai who saw him and ran away. They must have spread the word. Takashi has a bad feeling about this.

“I can’t come to your picnic,” Takashi says. “If you go away now, I’ll— I’ll visit you another time.”

The kappa gasps in excitement. “Really? Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise,” Takashi agrees, though he dreads what he’s getting himself into. The last thing he needs is to get closer to this troublesome group. But maybe visiting them will keep them from following him to school again, or interrupting his temple visits.

He feels a sudden warmth in his chest, at the thought of visiting the temple regularly.

“Natsume-sama is going to visit us!” cries the cyclops yokai.

“And he’s going to bring sake!” cries the ox yokai.

“I’m a minor, I can’t buy sake,” Takashi says, though he knows they won’t listen.

The small group returns to the forest, still chanting with excitement. Takashi sighs in relief.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he says, turning to Tanuma, braced for all kinds of negative reactions to him having an extended conversation with beings Tanuma can’t see or hear.

But Tanuma is smiling.

“What’s wrong?” Takashi asks, confused.

“Your yokai friends want you to come to their picnic,” Tanuma says, somehow pleased about this.

“They’re not my friends,” Takashi protests. “They just like following me around. And they expect me to help them.” But then he remembers the food the Mid-Ranks left for him. The live fish caused some trouble, but— “I guess they try to help me, too.”

He supposes they are his friends. He’s not used to thinking about yokai that way. The whole point of giving back everyone’s names is to free them and himself from the connections Reiko forced on them. But the Mid-Ranks and the kappa were never in the Book to begin with.

“Tell me about them?” Tanuma asks. “What do they look like? How did you meet them?”

Takashi does his best to describe the ox and cyclops and kappa. “I ran into the kappa on the way to school,” he continues, starting with the yokai who didn’t ask him to murder Tanuma-san. “He was dried out so I gave him some water.”

“What’s his name?” Tanuma asks.

“Some Yokai don’t have names,” Takashi says. “And the ones that do don’t like to share them. I have to give them new names.”

“Like Nyanko-sensei?”

“Yes, exactly,” Takashi says. “But I haven’t— I don’t have names for them.” He supposes he should. He hasn’t had a reason to give them names, not when he was trying to avoid them. But they live in the forests here, he won’t be able to avoid them anymore. And it’s not as if there’s only one kappa in the whole area. “The Mid-Ranks— They asked me to help with your dad.”

“Oh!” Tanuma says, realizing. “That was them? Wow. You know, Dad feels really bad about all that. He didn’t mean to hurt them. He was just trying to keep them away from me.”

“Yes,” Takashi says, thinking of the letter hidden in his cardboard box. He thinks he understands it a little better now. “It’s all right. They did promise to stay away from the temple. I’m sorry for bringing them here.”

“How did they even know you’re here?” Tanuma asks.

“They just do,” Takashi sighs. “We should probably get back. If they know, then—“

Another yokai emerges from the woods, this time one he doesn’t recognize. It looks like a woman with blue skin and an extremely large head, and wearing a lavender kimono. But he’s learned not to make assumptions from appearances. He can guess what it wants from its hopeful expression.

“Oh no,” Takashi sighs. He rubs his face. “Tanuma, I need you to go.”

“What’s wrong?” Tanuma asks, immediately concerned.

Takashi realizes, belatedly, that he’s going to need a better excuse for why he needs to be alone with yokai. Telling Tanuma to go away only makes it harder to actually make him leave.

Takashi is willing to share some things about yokai with the Tanumas, but not the Book. There’s nothing they can do about it anyway. It’s Takashi’s responsibility alone.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Takashi assures him, hoping it’s convincing. “It’s just another yokai. It needs to talk to me but I don’t want you to get a headache.”

“I’m fine,” Tanuma insists. “I don’t want to leave you alone with them.”

Takashi doesn’t want to be left alone with a yokai either, especially one he doesn’t know. But Sensei isn’t here and if it’s a Name return it needs to be done right away. He’s learned the hard way not to let returns pile up. Doing several at once wears him out so much, and getting all those different memories together is overwhelming. It’s no wonder he’s had more intense and frequent fevers lately.

Sensei might not be here, but Tanuma-san is.

“Protection is a good idea,” Takashi agrees. “Can you go get your dad? I’ll wait here, I can’t leave the yokai.”

Tanuma considers it. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

“I’ll be fine,” Takashi assures him. “This yokai is like the ones I’m friends with. It just needs my help.”

Tanuma squints at where the yokai is standing, apparently trying to glean the intentions of a vague shadow. “Okay,” he relents. “I’ll be right back.”

Tanuma takes off at a run.

As soon as Tanuma is out of sight, Takashi reaches for his waist pack. Then he stops.

Several other unfamiliar yokai emerge from the woods, joining the blue woman. He takes a step back, wary. Did he make a mistake? What are their intentions? Is he in danger after all? He really wishes Nyanko-sensei was here.

If he runs, will he make it to the shrine before they catch him?

One of the new yokai steps forward and bows politely. It’s shaped like a man, but with a head that’s sort of like a wolf. It has red markings on its face similar to Nyanko-sensei’s, and it’s wearing a black robe.

“Natsume Reiko?” the wolf asks.

“Reiko was my grandmother,” Takashi says, automatically. Then it is a name return. “She died a long time ago. I’m her grandson, Natsume Takashi.”

“I see,” says the wolf. “We have been asleep underwater for many years, and have come to have our names returned.”

“Underwater?”

“Some time ago, the humans filled our home with water,” the wolf yokai explains. “It is difficult for us to go above ground. But now the water is gone and we are able to move about again. And so we sought you out.”

“Filled your home with water?” Takashi echoes, confused. And then he remembers Nishimura talking about a dam that had recently dried up. “Your home is in a dam?”

“Yes, Natsume-dono,” says the wolf yokai. “We must regain our Names before it rains and the water returns.”

This is exactly the situation Takashi was trying to avoid. But if the yokai will be trapped again soon, he can’t refuse them. He doesn’t know the weather forecast, but he thinks they should have at least a few days.

“I can only give back one Name right now,” Takashi tells them. He just needs to pace things out. “I can give back the rest over the next few nights. Is that acceptable?”

The yokai turn to each other and confer.

“That is acceptable,” the wolf yokai says. “Please return her name now.” He gestures and the blue woman walks forward.

Takashi takes out the Book. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself.

“One who would protect me, show me your Name.”

Wind rushes up around him as the pages of the Book flip, searching for a match for the blue woman. And then a single page stands up straight. He rips it out, tucks the Book under his arm, folds the page, bites it. Claps his hands together and blows the Name out of the page. As the ink lifts into the air, the Name resounds in Takashi’s head.

“Sekkou.”

The ink dives into Sekkou’s forehead. And then in return, memories stream into Takashi’s head.

She is a shadow on a wall, a trick of the moonlight. She travels at night, and she is drawn to old empty buildings, in search of safe homes for the yokai who follow her.

She lives in a small town. Over time, the abandoned homes she stays in are torn down and new ones are built, and so she moves to the next abandoned home. There is always one or two. A girl comes, with a smile and a Book. She tags the shadow in a game and takes her Name.

And then the humans begin to move away. Nameless, Sekkou dances freely between whole groups of houses, a shadow unseen by human eyes. More and more yokai enter her safe homes, grateful for her refuge.

And then the water comes. They are spirits and need no air to breathe. But the water is heavy, so dark and deep, and where there is no light there cannot be a shadow. The darkness drags her to sleep.

Takashi wakes up on the ground, gasping for air. His body feels uncomfortably heavy and solid, nothing like Sekkou’s weightless shadow. How long was he out? Seconds, minutes?

Sekkou bows to him in thanks, then fades away.

“Thank you, Natsume-dono,” says the wolf yokai. “We will return tonight.”

“I won’t be at the temple,” Takashi says, as picks the Book up from the grass and stands. “Come to my house.” He doesn’t bother giving his address. Yokai always know where to find him.

The wolf yokai nods, and the remaining four disappear back into the woods.

He looks back towards the temple. The Tanumas aren’t back yet, so he must have only been out for a minute. Sekkou wasn’t very powerful, thankfully, so he’s only a little tired and dizzy. Nothing he can’t pass off as the result of walking around with a mild fever.

But just as he zips his waist pack closed, he feels something that’s definitely powerful. More than that wolf yokai felt. Where is it? Should he run for the shrine? What if he runs into Tanuma? He can’t let another yokai hurt Tanuma.

A shadow falls over him from behind, and he turns to see a massive yokai blocking the way back to the temple. It’s covered in shaggy grey fur, except for the white fur and red skin of its monkey-like face. A huge green turtle shell covers its back.

“The Book of Friends,” says the monkey yokai, its voice deep and hungry. “It’s mine!”

Takashi runs.

Nyanko-sensei is always telling him to not return Names on his own. Using the Book releases power, and that draws attention. But if a yokai shows up at his house and Nyanko-sensei isn’t there, Takashi will usually return their name anyway.

Maybe that was fine at home, where Nyanko-sensei has thoroughly marked his territory. But out here in the forest—

Takashi used to only have to worry about these kinds of power-hungry yokai trying to eat him. Now they want the Book too, and control of all the lives inside it.

Despite his weariness from the Name return, panic and adrenaline are more than enough to keep him running at top speed. The monkey yokai is huge, so Takashi sticks to the woods, weaving through the trees to slow his pursuer. If he can circle around and get to the shrine— But if Tanuma tries to help— No, as long as they’re not touching—

“Natsume?!” calls a voice.

And then he sees them. Tanuma! And Tanuma-san!

This is like what happened before, with Misuzu. But the Book isn’t reacting to the giant monkey yokai. Takashi can’t command it to stop.

Tanuma-san’s purifying wave. Will it be enough?

“Tanuma-san!” Takashi yells, gasping. “Purify the woods! Now!”

Tanuma-san gestures, and Takashi dives to the ground, covering his face as blinding light and overwhelming power fill the air and make the forest tremble. When it passes, he dares a glance back, and sees the monkey yokai’s shocked expression as it shrinks, fizzles, and disappears.

It’s been exorcised. It’s probably still alive, but too small and weak to be a threat.

It’s over. They’re safe.

Exhaustion and fever and fear finally catch up with him. The last thing Takashi sees as he passes out is the Tanumas running towards him.

Chapter Text

When Kousuke took on the task of helping Natsume Takashi, he knew there would be many challenges. He didn’t expect to worry about being charged with kidnapping.

Kaname and Nyanko-sensei’s plan to smuggle Takashi to Yatsuhara was and is extremely risky. Kousuke will frankly feel much better once Takashi is safely back home with his parents, and Nyanko-sensei is pretending to be a cat again instead of a sick teenaged boy.

But he has to admit that they were right. Sleeping in the shrine helped Takashi just as it helped Kaname. The treatment that both of them have needed for so long was only discovered because of their growing friendship. And now the two of them are almost fully recovered, and happily spending the morning together.

It fills Kousuke with such awe and hope, it must be a miracle from the Buddha himself.

While the boys are outside, he goes to the main hall and starts performing his morning rituals. The familiar actions and sutras ground him, steady his thoughts, keep him in right mindfulness.

And then Kaname rushes in, breathless from running. “Dad, you have to hurry, there’s yokai!”

“What happened?” Kousuke asks, as they rush out. “Is Takashi hurt?”

“He was okay when I left,” Kaname says. “The first ones were friendly. But I don’t think he knew the other one.”

“I thought they were all staying away from the temple,” Kousuke says. Nothing’s bothered Kaname here since Takashi’s first visit to Yatsuhara. Kousuke thought it was safe for them to walk around on their own.

“They were,” Kaname says.

They reach the open field of the old shrine, but Takashi isn’t here.

“Oh no,” Kaname says, worried. He calls Takashi’s name, and they starts searching for him.

And then they find him. He’s in the woods, running incredibly fast towards them, dodging and weaving through the trees. It would all be impressively athletic if not for the fact that he looks absolutely terrified.

“Tanuma-san!” Takashi yells, gasping. “Purify the woods! Now!”

Kousuke doesn’t question it. He immediately performs his simple, familiar blessing, and soothes the spirits.

Takashi dives to the ground and huddles as if bracing himself against an explosion. But as always, Kousuke doesn’t see or feel anything. If not for Takashi’s reactions, there would absolutely be no reason to think his blessing had any effect, or that there was anything to fear in this peaceful forest.

“I think it’s gone,” Kaname says.

They rush over to Takashi, but he’s unconscious. Kousuke gives him a shake, but he won’t rouse.

“You said shrines are safe from spirits?” Kousuke says, as he kneels down.

“Natsume said they are,” Kaname says, as he looks warily around them.

“Do you feel anything?”

Kaname shakes his head. “Not anymore.”

Kousuke gets his arms under Takashi’s body and picks him up. Just as when he carried Takashi yesterday, he thinks the boy is distressingly light for his age and height. It reminds him of the times when illness left Kaname terribly weak, and Kousuke stayed by his side day and night to protect him and nurse him back to health.

He expected to return a mostly healthy Takashi to the Fujiwaras today. Perhaps a sudden relapse won’t seem strange given Takashi’s delicate health. Or will they need to keep him in the shrine overnight again?

“What happened?” Kousuke asks, as they head for the shrine.

“I don’t know,” Kaname says, distressed. “He said he’d be okay. It was just a few minutes.”

They reach the shrine and hurry into the sanctuary. Kousuke didn’t expect to be in here again so soon. He lays Takashi down and checks him over, touches his forehead.

“He’s still a little warm, but not any worse than this morning,” Kousuke says. He turns to Kaname and checks him over, too. “How’s your head?”

“I’m okay,” Kaname says, his breathing finally easing. “It hurt a little, from the friendly yokai. But it’s going away. No migraine.”

“Good,” Kousuke says. “That’s very good.” He closes his eyes and takes a moment to observe his own state. He must have a clear understanding of his body, his emotions and thoughts. He acknowledges his fear and releases it, and finds his inner stillness.

Right now they are safe. There is no immediate danger. If the treatment of the shrine is needed, they will receive it.

He opens his eyes and looks around. “I should have built a bigger shrine,” he decides.

Kaname gives a strained laugh.

“Give me a hug, then sit with me,” Kousuke says, gesturing to the space beside him. His heart swells to see Kaname caring for Takashi. But Kousuke knows very well how worry can poison the mind.

He doesn’t need to say anything. The two of them have meditated together since Kaname was old enough to sit up on his own. They have always endured and found solace together. This time is no different.

“Tell me what happened,” Kousuke says, once Kaname is ready.

Kaname tells him, recounting their walk around the temple grounds. He tells Kousuke about the ox and cyclops and kappa yokai who wanted Takashi to come to their picnic, and about the unknown yokai who arrived after them.

“I don’t know if that was the yokai he was running from,” Kaname continues. “He didn’t seem scared of it, just— It was like how he was at Moriguchi, with Santo. He had to do something with the yokai and he didn’t want me around for it.”

Kousuke looks at Takashi. He’s still out cold.

“You think it has something to do with his book?” Kousuke asks.

“I don’t know, maybe,” Kaname says. “I didn’t feel anything this time, but I was probably too far away.”

“What did you feel when we arrived?”

Kaname closes his eyes and concentrates. “There was something in the forest. It felt different than the other yokai. Unsettling and wrong.”

“Let’s discuss what we know,” Kousuke says. “First, there are friendly yokai who Takashi has a positive relationship with, like Nyanko-sensei and the kappa and Mid-Ranks.”

Kaname nods, agreeing.

“Then there are the yokai who he’s devoted to helping in some way. They can be friendly, like Santo, or dangerous, like, Shigure-sama.”

“He helped the kappa and Mid-Ranks, too,” Kanama reminds him. “That’s how they met.”

“Perhaps he helped Nyanko-sensei as well,” Kousuke offers. “That could explain how he earned his protection. Perhaps helping other yokai will provide even more protection.”

“I think he needs more,” Kaname says.

“It seems that many of the yokai he meets are dangerous,” Kousuke agrees. “Like Shigure-sama and Mikuri. But their danger is tied to their emotional state, their suffering. By helping them, Takashi eases their suffering and calms them. The danger is lessened or removed. He walks the noble path, with right resolve and right effort, helping spirits towards enlightenment.”

But he looks at the unconscious Takashi, and knows the noble path is not an easy one.

“But it seems even spirits can be trapped by attachment,” Kousuke continues. “There are always those who are unreasonable, or whose suffering is too great for the help of one person alone. The earth spirits who possessed Mikuri, for example, and perhaps the one just now. Yokai who are life-threatening for Takashi, and must be purified or exorcised.”

“Then their suffering is what causes my migraines?” Kaname asks. “Ponta doesn’t make my head hurt at all. Santo and the Mid-Ranks made my head hurt a little, but it went away once they were gone. Maybe if I take medication ahead of time, I can be around friendly yokai safely?”

“We’ll check with your neurologist about a daily treatment,” Kousuke decides. “All this time, I tried to keep you isolated from the spirit world. But I’m certain now that my soothing was experienced by the spirits as an attack. Their suffering was then returned back to us. I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am, Kaname. So much of your pain was my own fault, my own ignorance.”

“We didn’t know,” Kaname protests.

“We didn’t,” Kousuke agrees. “But we do now. We’ve already learned so much, but we must learn more. I believe with his help, we can make Yatsuhara and all of Hitoyoshi a safer place for both of you. We can learn how to help the spirits who are suffering.”

“You think we can stop my migraines from happening?” Kaname asks, unsure.

“I think Takashi has set us on the right path,” Kousuke says. He stands up. “You stay here with him. I’ll get some things so we’ll be more comfortable.” He considers the bare space. “Perhaps we should install some tatami mats.”

That makes Kaname crack a smile. Learning all of this might be good and important, but it’s a lot to take in. And Takashi’s suffering makes more suffering.

Kousuke heads for the house. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive himself for causing his son so much pain. He’s not sure he even should. But he’s so grateful for the enlightenment.

It takes two trips to bring everything back over. Bedding and cushions, water and food, the first aid kit just in case. Takashi’s temperature is stable, and Kaname is worried but unharmed. It seems that while all this was a close call, Kousuke was actually able to protect them. It doesn’t begin to make up for all his failures, but it gives him some proof that things can be different now.

“Natsume wanted us to make an offering here, while things were calm,” Kaname says, as they wait. “But when are things ever calm for him?”

“They’re calm now,” Kousuke says.

“He’s unconscious, not calm,” Kaname says, upset. “I shouldn’t have left him alone.”

“You did the right thing, coming to get me,” Kousuke assures him. “If anyone was at fault, it was me. I should have realized the area outside of the new temple grounds would be less protected.”

“But isn’t all of that still part of the temple?” Kaname asks.

“Officially, yes,” Kousuke agrees. “But in practice, I thought it was best to let that area return to the forest. But if you’re going to have your vegetable garden, I need to change the boundary lines.”

“You don’t have to,” Kaname protests.

“I do,” Kousuke says, certain. “I want this to be our home. I want you to be safe here with your friends, especially Takashi. I’ll consult Nyanko-sensei as well, see what kind of protections we need.”

“You think he’ll help?”

“I’m sure a few dango will serve as a consulting fee,” Kousuke says, coaxing out another small smile from Kaname.

But what Kaname obviously needs most is for Takashi to wake up and be okay. Thankfully, after a while longer, Takashi finally stirs.

He wakes slowly, then suddenly, his eyes going wide and his whole body stiff.

“Natsume?” Kaname calls, gently. “Everything’s okay, we’re back in the shrine.”

Takashi looks around, still disoriented. He recognizes the sanctuary, then relaxes, sagging with relief.

“Thank you for sending Kaname to get me,” Kousuke says, keeping his voice gentle, too. “I was able to purify the spirit chasing you, but then you collapsed. How are you feeling?”

Takashi stares at Kousuke intensely. “You saved me.”

Takashi doesn’t quite seem recovered yet. “Have some water,” Kousuke says, and offers him a cup.

Takashi sits up and sips the water.

“Did you know the yokai who attacked you?” Kousuke asks.

Takashi shakes his head.

“Do you think it will attack you again?”

“I don’t know,” Takashi says. “Probably not. Once Sensei purifies something— They stay away.”

“Good,” Kousuke says, very glad to hear it. “That’s very good.”

He doesn’t know how his own ability to purify compares to Nyanko-sensei’s. He doesn’t understand how he has such a power at all. Maybe he shouldn’t, with how badly he hurt so many spirits. But he’s determined to use it correctly now.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize that area would be dangerous,” Kousuke continues. “I’m going to make it safe for you, with Nyanko-sensei’s help, so you can have the vegetable garden there. If you still want to, of course.”

“I do!” Takashi says, surprised and amazed. “But— To do all that— How can I repay you?”

“What you’ve already given me is more than I can ever repay to you,” Kousuke says, with feeling. “I promise to help and protect you in any way I can. Will you let me do that for you?”

Kousuke has no intention of displacing the Fujiwaras. He wants Takashi to be able to trust them and open his heart to them. But just as Takashi seems to be accumulating a protective circle of yokai, he needs a protective circle of humans.

Takashi stares at Kousuke, at Kaname. Kousuke’s words have obviously affected him strongly. Takashi must have had no one to turn to for so long.

“I don’t want to— Is this— Okay?” Takashi asks Kaname, unsure.

“Of course it’s okay,” Kaname says.

Kousuke recalls how Shigeru talked about the people Takashi lived with before. That he’s ashamed to be related to them. Kousuke is starting to understand why. For a child to feel so unworthy of basic care and protection—

Thankfully, Kaname’s approval makes the difference.

“Thank you, Tanuma-sama,” Takashi says, and bows to Kousuke.

“Please, there’s no need for that,” Kousuke says, startled. He gestures for Takashi to sit back up. “You’re part of our family now. So please, call me Kousuke-san.”

“Kousuke-san,” Takashi says, trying it out.

“And I guess— You can call me Kaname,” Kaname offers, blushing. “If you want.”

“Oh,” Takashi says, and blushes too. “Then you can, um. If you want.”

Both boys have trouble making eye contact. It seems their friendship is still a little awkward. Kousuke trusts that they’ll work through it.

He glances at his watch. “Are you feeling well enough to leave the shrine, Takashi? We need to bring you home.”

“Already?” Kaname says.

“You can spend plenty of time together once this subterfuge is over,” Kousuke says. Preferably without any kidnappings, migraines, fevers, yokai attacks, or fainting. Kousuke doubts that goal will be easy, but he’ll do his very best to reach it.

Chapter Text

Before they leave Yatsuhara, Takashi changes back into his pajamas and returns Tanuma’s— Kaname’s clothes. Kousuke-san tells him to keep the shoes for now, so he doesn’t have to walk around barefoot.

Before they get into the car, Kousuke-san pulls Takashi into another hug. Takashi can’t help but tense up again. But it’s a little easier to bear this time, now that he knows Kousuke-san is a noble being. Instead of his father, he thinks of Nyanko-sensei, crawling into his lap and purring.

He’ll be glad to be with Nyanko-sensei again, especially after this morning. But as he lies under a blanket in the backseat, being smuggled back to the Fujiwaras, ha can’t stop thinking about Kousuke-san’s promise to him. To help and protect him in any way he can.

All because he told Kaname about shrines. Kaname was the one who figured out everything else, who got them both healed. Kaname is amazing.

But finally Takashi understands the letter. Kousuke-san is pledged to protect Kaname, like Nyanko-sensei protects Takashi. But neither of them can see or hear yokai. That’s why Kousuke-san pledged to protect Takashi, too. Because Kousuke-san needs Takashi’s help to protect Kaname.

It’s okay to tell them what he sees. They need him to tell them. Maybe once Takashi gets used to all this, it will be as easy to talk to them as it is to talk to Nyanko-sensei. Even though Kaname is human. Because he’s not normal either. He’s stuck between both worlds, like Takashi, like Reiko.

The car stops. They’re here.

When Shigeru-san called Touko-san in the morning, she said that since ‘Takashi-kun’ was feeling better, Shigeru-san was going to work today. So the best time to bring Takashi back is before he comes home, and before school lets out.

The Tanumas leave the car and go the front door. Takashi listens, and hears Touko-san greet them. Kousuke-san presents her with Takashi’s clothes and belongings, which he cleaned after Kiriganuma, and they go inside.

As soon as the front door closes, Takashi slips out of the car. He looks around, confirming that no one is around to see him. Then he sneaks up to the front door and listens. He can hear Touko-san and Kousuke-san talking. Their voices aren’t close, so they must be away from the entrance.

Takashi cracks open the door and peeks inside. The entrance is empty. Kaname is waiting for him at the top of the stairs, and gestures for him to come up.

Takashi takes off his borrowed shoes and carries them up the stairs. A few more steps and they reach his room.

Takashi sees himself lounging in bed, with several empty plates on the floor beside him, recently emptied of food.

“Sensei!” Takashi whispers, alarmed. “How much did you eat?!”

Sensei burps, then gives them both an intense stare. “Well, well. So it did work. Interesting.” He gives a languid stretch. “Too bad. Pretending to be you was actually pretty good. Lots of food and sleep and no one whining at me.” He pats his belly, which is rounder than it should be.

Takashi doesn’t mind Sensei eating well. It’s a fair trade for covering for him with the Fujiwaras. But Touko-san already gives Takashi so much food. What if this makes the Fujiwaras spend even more money on him? He can’t possibly eat Sensei-sized portions.

“You can stop now,” Takashi says, and gestures for Sensei to get out of his bed.

With a poof, Nyanko-sensei is a cat again. But he stays on the bed. Takashi glares at him, and Nyanko-sensei smirks.

“Will you just—“ Takashi says, annoyed. He picks Nyanko-sensei up and puts him down on the floor, then hurries into bed. Subterfuge over, he sighs with relief.

“No respect around here,” Nyanko-sensei huffs.

“Thank you for all your help, Ponta,” Kaname says.

“That’s more like it,” Nyanko-sensei says. “Praise and gratitude, that’s what I deserve.”

“Thank you, Sensei,” Takashi says. He really is grateful. None of the amazing things that happened over the past day could have happened without Nyanko-sensei. Or the past month.

It’s hard to believe he’s here. He really thought, after Kiriganuma, that he’d have to leave Hitoyoshi.

Every experience he’s ever had told him. When the spirits around him hurt someone else, that’s it. After all, no matter what happened, no one else ever saw the truth. If he tried to explain, people would get angry with him, decide he’d obviously done it himself, and he’d be punished. And then they would finally admit he was too much trouble, and he would be moved.

But here he is.

“So, um,” Kaname says. “I know you’re still recovering, but if your cold is gone tomorrow, or Sunday— Want to hang out? I guess we have to wait to start the garden, but we can do something else. Something definitely normal this time.”

Kaname gives him a hopeful look.

“I’d like that,” Takashi says, happy. Really happy. “But um— If it’s not normal, that’s okay too.”

“It is?” Kaname asks, surprised.

“Yeah,” Takashi says, surprised himself. “As long as Sensei’s with us, or your dad— Then we’ll be okay.”

We.

Kaname grins, and Takashi smiles back.

“To not being normal,” Kaname says, and holds out his fist.

Takashi looks at it, confused, then realizes. He’s supposed to bump it with his own fist. He’s seen humans do that with their friends. And now it’s something he can do with Kaname.

He bumps his fist against Kaname’s, and somehow manages to feel even happier.

“You want to go downstairs together?” Kaname asks. “Now that you’re ‘feeling better’.”

“Yes, I’ve been cooped up in here for ages,” Nyanko-sensei says, and walks out the door.

Takashi and Kaname gather the empty plates and follow him downstairs.

“Oh, Nyankichi!” Touko-san says, surprised. “There you are!” She turns to Kousuke-san. “He always stays close when Takashi-kun is sick. So I was worried that something had happened to him.” She turns to Nyanko-sensei. “But I guess you were just out for a walk, like Takashi-kun said. Thank goodness!”

While Touko-san pets and dotes on the ‘returned’ Nyanko-sensei, Takashi finds himself sharing knowing glances with Kaname and Kousuke-san.

He doesn’t like lying to Touko-san. But he can’t deny the thrill he feels, sharing this with them.

Then Touko-san turns her attention to Takashi. “Oh, that last nap must have really helped.” She presses her hand to his forehead. “Still a little warm. But you must be almost better with that big appetite! I’m sure all you need now is a good night’s sleep.”

“I’ll put these in the kitchen?” Kousuke-san offers, taking the plates.

“Oh yes, thank you, you’re so thoughtful,” Touko-san says. “Kaname-kun, you’re all better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Kaname says.

“Your visit helped Takashi-kun so much,” Touko-san says. “His fever was terrible, Shigeru and I were so worried. But after you and your other friends came by, he started feeling much better.”

She gives Takashi a happy smile, then reaches out and pets his hair.

Takashi’s startled by the sudden touch, but he does his best to hide it. Luckily, Kousuke-san returns from the kitchen, and Touko-san turns away, distracted.

Takashi gives Nyanko-sensei an accusing glare. Nyanko-sensei looks back smugly.

Of course Nyanko-sensei couldn’t just pretend to be asleep the whole time. It’s not surprising that he stuffed himself silly, but somehow he got Touko-san to pet him while he was Takashi, too!

So now Takashi has that to deal with. And that’s on top of Kousuke-san’s hugs.

“I think it’s time I took Kaname home,” Kousuke-san says. “Takashi needs his rest. Though I’m sure the boys will be seeing more of each other this weekend.”

“Wonderful,” Touko-san says. “But please be careful together.”

“We promise,” Kaname says, and Takashi nods in agreement.

“We’ll see you later,” Kaname says, as they leave.

Once they’re gone, Takashi feels unexpectedly lonely.

“Keep me company in the kitchen?” Touko-san says.

Takashi sits at his usual place at the kitchen table. He watches Touko-san as she makes a pot of tea. She brings it over for them and starts talking to him about the usual things. What she did while ‘he’ was asleep. What food she’s planning to cook. The latest goings-on with her friends, or neighbors, or others in town.

He wishes he could tell her about everything that happened to him today.

It’s not just that he hates having to lie to her. He’s always hated having to lie to everyone. But now he has someone he can tell the truth to. Not just his guardian spirits. An actual human.

It makes him wonder. Could he tell Touko-san the truth, someday? And Shigeru-san?

He shouldn’t even consider the idea. The Fujiwaras are completely normal humans. And he knows how normal humans react. Even ones who are kind to him. Even the few who told him when they met that he was part of their family.

They always mean it when they say it. Before they realize what he is, they always mean it. Like the kids at a new school, so happy to meet the transfer student. It’s his fault he can’t make them happy. Being what he is.

When he first met Touko-san, he thought she was a spirit. Just another yokai looking into his soul, telling him what he wanted to hear. But then the people he was living with talked about meeting the Fujiwaras, and he realized they were actually human.

He was happy they were human, then. But if they were like Kousuke-san, he could tell them the truth.

But they’re not. So he can’t.

It didn’t matter before. But now it makes him sad.

Touko-san notices his mood, and her happiness disappears into concern. She touches his forehead, then pets his hair again. This time he’s braced for it.

“You’re not any warmer,” she decides. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” he tells her, and smiles for her. He shouldn’t be sad. It only upsets people. It takes away their happiness, like it did just now. “Just tired.”

“I don’t want you to push yourself too soon,” Touko-san says. “Would you like something to eat? Or do you need another nap?”

Takashi is tired. Doing a name return while he’s still sick took a lot out of him. So did running for his life. “I’m sorry. I’ll go upstairs.”

He goes up alone. Sensei disappeared while he was in the kitchen. He must have gone out for that walk he claimed to be doing while he was stuck being Takashi.

The shoes Takashi borrowed from Kaname are still in his room. He hides them in the closet, on the floor beside his cardboard box.

He pauses, looking at the box, and thinks about taking out Kousuke-san’s letter and reading it again. Would it make him feel better or worse? He closes the closet, deciding not to risk it.

He shouldn’t want things he can’t have. He knows that. Wanting only hurts him. But today with the Tanumas—

In the past, when he had nothing to eat, he could stop himself from feeling hungry at all. But then he’d smell food, from a restaurant or someone’s home. And a painful, desperate hunger would seize him.

Eventually it would pass.

This feeling will pass, too.

He lies down on his futon, and dreams of being a shadow in the moonlight. The water above him is heavy, but so perfectly clear that he can see the stars.

He is immaterial, intangible. He feels no hunger or thirst. He wants nothing, except to find a place to rest, and to help the spirits who follow him, always following him wherever he goes. He is a shadow on a house, and they are inside him, hidden and safe.

When he wakes, the sun is low. He smells food and his stomach grumbles. His fever is finally gone.

He changes into his normal clothes and goes downstairs. Shigeru-san is home, and so is Nyanko-sensei.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Touko-san says. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

And then it’s Shigeru-san’s turn to look him over. “You look much better.”

“My fever’s gone,” Takashi reports.

“I’m very glad,” Shigeru-san says, with feeling. “You gave us quite a scare.”

“I’m sorry,” Takashi says.

“It’s all right,” Shigeru-san soothes.

While he was asleep, Kitamoto and Nishimura and Sasada stopped by. They didn’t have anything to drop off this time. They only wanted to see him.

He’s reminded of the Mid-Ranks and the kappa, coming by to see him in Yatsuhara. Maybe Kitamoto and Nishimura and Kaname would like to have a picnic, too. But not in Yatsuhara. Despite the Tanumas, he still needs to keep the two parts of his life as separate as he can.

Which reminds him. He’s still not sure what to do about Sasada. Maybe—

Maybe he can talk to Kaname about her. Or even Kousuke-san. He can’t get advice on human things from Nyanko-sensei, all he cares about is food. But Kousuke-san seems to like humans, and must know a lot about them, pretending to be one for so long.

While they’re eating, Touko-san says, “I think we should invite Kousuke-san and Kaname-kun over for dinner. What do you think, dear?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Shigeru-san says. “Perhaps this weekend?”

“If it’s not too short notice,” Touko-san says. “Takashi-kun, do you know what they like to eat? I can go shopping tomorrow.”

All Takashi can think of is senbei and mandarins. “Um. They like your soup?”

Touko-san laughs. “I’m glad to hear it! I’ll give Kousuke-san a call tomorrow morning and ask him.”

Thinking about Kousuke-san and food reminds Takashi that he never got to make an offering at the shrine. And after all that! Takashi has to fit in a visit to Yatsuhara this weekend, too, and bring something to offer. And he’ll have to fulfill his promised picnic with the Mid-Ranks and kappa sometime soon, before they start following him around again.

And he has to do his homework. And those yokai will be back tonight, for another Name return. His weekend hasn’t even started yet and it’s already packed.

He was so sure he’d have to leave. But here he is, healthy again, having dinner with the Fujiwaras, making plans. He feels impossibly grateful for all of it, even the difficult things.

Even the homework. Kaname has the same homework. They could do it together. Maybe after they make offerings together, with Kousuke-san.

He sees the Fujiwaras smiling at him, and realizes he’s smiling. He feels so happy about Kaname. About all of it.

He ducks his head, blushing.

After dinner, he helps clean up. And then instead of hurrying up to his room, he finds himself lingering downstairs. Shigeru-san notices and suggests they watch a movie together.

Takashi doesn’t usually like movies much, because they’re always full of yokai. Not as part of the story, but hanging around the set, curious about what the humans are doing. The humans who make the movies never know the yokai are there, of course. So most TV shows and movies are full of distractions, random yokai randomly appearing and disappearing from scenes that were filmed out of order.

But he wants to stay with the Fujiwaras a little longer tonight. So he braces himself and watches.

And to his surprise, there aren’t any yokai. The only beings in the movie are human actors. It’s honestly so shocking, Takashi can’t imagine how they did it.

But whatever method they used, it wasn’t perfect. They missed one yokai, and of course it’s the one that seems to be living on the body of the lead actor. A shadowy lizard that crawls around at random, sometimes sitting right on the actor’s face during a close-up.

Takashi ends up fixated on the shadowy lizard for the whole movie. Is it like Sekkou? She needs moonlight to appear. But the different lighting doesn’t seem to affect the lizard yokai. Or even the makeup the actor is wearing. How long has the yokai been living on him? Does it hurt him? Is it possessing him? Does he have any idea?

Takashi’s still full of questions as he takes a bath and gets ready for bed. It’s only once he’s settled in with Nyanko-sensei that he realizes he hasn’t had a chance to tell his bodyguard about everything that happened in Yatsuhara.

Those yokai coming tonight. He needs to start there.

“Some yokai are coming for their Names tonight,” Takashi says. “Five of them showed up when I was at Yatsuhara.”

“You want to give away five of my Names tonight?” Nyanko-sensei says, with his routine annoyance.

“I have to,” Takashi says. “They live at the bottom of a dam, and they can only come out while the water’s gone. But I’m not doing all five tonight. I promised to do one tonight, and I did one this morning.”

That gets Nyanko-sensei’s attention. “You gave away a Name there without me?!”

“I know, I know,” Takashi sighs. “I won’t do it again. This big yokai came after me. He looked a cross between a monkey and a kappa?”

“Enkou?!” Nyanko-sensei says, his ears going straight up, then back flat.

“You know him?”

“Hmph!” Nyanko-sensei says, dismissive. “An arrogant, greedy fool. Of course he’d try to take what’s mine the moment I turned my back.” He narrows his eyes at Takashi. “I’m surprised he didn’t eat you.”

“Kousuke-san saved me with his purifying wave,” Takashi says, still in awe of that powerful light. “He was amazing.”

“Was he now?” Nyanko-sensei says. “I noticed it’s not ‘Tanuma-san’ anymore.”

“He said we’re family now,” Takashi says, even more in awe of that. “And he put me under his protection. It turns out he’s a noble being, like you.”

Nyanko-sensei sighs. “You’re confused again. I told you, he’s a human.”

“You can turn into a human,” Takashi points out. “You can both purify yokai. And his power is even stronger than yours. Maybe he just seems like a human to you because he’s better at pretending.”

“I left you alone for one day, and you came back with a head full of absolute nonsense,” Nyanko-sensei says, unimpressed. “And you gave away a Name from my Book without me!”

“It was urgent,” Takashi says. “And I can’t let returns pile up. If i do too many Names at once, I get so tired I can’t stay awake in class.”

“You shouldn’t be giving back any Names at all,” Nyanko-sensei reminds him. “You think bribing me with food will distract me from what I’ve been promised. Did you tell them about the Book?”

Takashi sits up. “Of course not!”

“Are you going to tell them?”

Takashi starts to say no, of course he won’t. But maybe once he gets to know them better, if he’s sure he can trust them—

“Only if you think it’s safe,” he decides.

Nyanko-sensei gives a skeptical harumph.

“And I was wondering,” Takashi says. “Could you put Kaname under your protection?”

“The priest already asked me that,” Nyanko-sensei says. “When you die, I get the Book of Friends. What do I get when Tanuma dies? Hmm?”

Takashi doesn’t have an answer for that.

“I’ll tell you what I told the priest. If you’re together, I’ll protect you both. But don’t think you can order me around. I am a noble being. And if that priest was what you think he is, he wouldn’t need my help. If he was actually more powerful than me, he’d be a god.”

“I’ve met gods,” Takashi reminds him. “They needed lots of help.”

Nyanko-sensei narrows his eyes. “You think you’ve got it all figured out.”

“I know what this is,” Takashi realizes. “You’re jealous.”

“Jealous?!” Nyanko-sensei cries. “Of a pitiful human?! I’ve never been so insulted!” He stands in a huff. “I’m leaving.”

“Sensei, wait,” Takashi says, alarmed. “I told you, I have to give back a Name tonight.”

“My Book will stay exactly as it is until I get back,” Nyanko-sensei tells him. “Don’t let anything in unless you want to get eaten. That priest isn’t here to save you.”

“Sensei!” Takashi protests.

Nyanko-sensei poofs into his true form. The window opens itself and he flies out through it, and then it shuts itself, and the lock falls into place.

Takashi gives a frustrated groan.

He tries to get some sleep, but it’s difficult with Nyanko-sensei away. He dozes off eventually, only to be woken by a knock on the window. It’s the yokai from the dam, only four of them now. Sekkou must have gone home.

He wonders if he should risk giving back a Name anyway. The house gives him some protection even without Nyanko-sensei here. But he doesn’t want a repeat of this morning.

“I’m so sorry,” he tells the wolf yokai, through the window. “I can’t return any Names tonight after all. Please come back tomorrow.”

The wolf yokai stares at him, his expression unreadable.

The lock on the window jiggles.

Takashi takes a step back, alarmed. But the lock stays closed.

“Very well, Natsume-dono,” the wolf yokai says. “We will return.”

And then they’re gone. But they’ll be back. And Takashi has to make sure Nyanko-sensei is with him when that happens.

Maybe he should have given all their Names back this morning.

When Takashi first came to Hitoyoshi, the many Nameless yokai here started chasing and attacking him. Lonely Hishigaki and her friend almost killed him.

So after that first successful Name return, he asked Nyanko-sensei to tell everyone: He promises to return the Names of any yokai who come to him, as long as they ask politely.

That promise hasn’t reached all the yokai in the Book. And not all the ones who hear it accept it. But it helped a lot.

If Takashi breaks that promise, then yokai will stop asking politely.

Chapter Text

As they drive back to Yatsuhara, Kaname can’t stop smiling. He feels as euphoric as he did yesterday, when he realized his migraine was actually going away.

It all worked. It was an absolutely wild ride, but it actually all worked out.

To not being normal.

Kaname touches his fist, where Takashi bumped it with his own. Thinks about Takashi’s big, real smile, and his moments of easy happiness.

Takashi called him ‘Kaname.’ And Kaname called him ‘Takashi.’ It feels so intimate, it makes Kaname blush just thinking about it.

Maybe it’s too soon. But his dad told Takashi that they’re family now. And when they get home, Yatsuhara feels emptier without him.

Kaname notices that his dad is frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” his dad says, and forces a smile. “Today was truly a remarkable today.”

Kaname gives his dad a look.

Dad gives an acknowledging sigh. “You’re so happy right now. I want you to be happy.”

“Is it that bad?” Kaname asks.

“During my training, I took the Bodhisattva vow,” Dad says. “I vowed to help all other beings to enlightenment. And instead, I caused incalculable suffering.”

Oh. Of course. “We didn’t know,” Kaname defends, again.

“Ignorance is the root of all suffering,” Dad says. “How many spirits did I harm? How many did they harm in turn?”

“I’m the one who asked you to soothe the monsters,” Kaname says, not wanting his dad to bear this alone. “It’s my fault, too.”

“You were a child,” Dad says, gently refusing. “And your sensitivity— That may be my fault as well. If whatever gave me this power is what made you as you are.”

Kaname doesn’t know what to say to that.

His dad would never intentionally hurt anyone. But if they hadn’t met Takashi, his unintentional harm would have continued. More spirits would have suffered, and then taken out their hurt and anger on Kaname. The cycle would have continued, and he would’ve stayed trapped inside it, maybe for the rest of his life.

“I have much to think about,” Dad says, with sad determination. “I’m going to the main hall, to pray and meditate. But if anything happens, please come to me right away.”

“I will,” Kaname promises.

And then his dad is gone, too. Not far, but— Kaname’s never liked being alone.

He looks out at the backyard through the open doors — the invisible pond, the forest that stretches out into the mountains — and feels afraid.

He’s always been afraid of spirits. How could he not be? They scared him, hurt him, and the only thing that stopped them was his dad.

But as he grew up, he became determined to be brave. He wanted to live like everyone else did. He started going places on his own, even places his dad hadn’t blessed. When he felt spirits, when his head hurt, he tried to picture them as forces of nature, like rain or wind. Storms would inevitably come and cause damage, but they were impersonal. They could only be prepared for, and endured until they passed.

It helped. But he was wrong. He was completely wrong.

His dad is right to be upset. He soothed the monsters for Kaname’s whole life. How much damage did they do? Will the spirits ever forgive them? Are they out there right now, angry and plotting revenge?

The overwhelming fear makes him feel like a child again. It makes him want to run to his dad’s side and never leave, or hide in the shrine forever.

But he refuses to do that. He has to figure out how to be brave for this, too.

He’s not completely helpless on his own. He can’t see the spirits, but he can still feel their presence, especially when they’re angry. And right now Yatsuhara feels calm. He doesn’t have any chills or pain. There’s nothing to be afraid of here. Even without his dad or Takashi or Ponta, he’s perfectly safe.

When the doorbell rings, he almost jumps out of his skin.

But yokai don’t ring doorbells, at least as far as he knows. He opens the front door and finds Nishimura and Kitamoto, stopping by after school just like they did yesterday. Kaname eagerly welcomes them inside.

“You look so much better,” Nishimura says, impressed. “I’m surprised your dad didn’t send you to school today.”

“Yeah,” Kaname says, lightly. “Well, migraines, you know. Gotta be careful. How was the math test?”

“We both passed!” Nishimura says, proudly.

“You’ll do fine on the makeup test,” Kitamoto assures him. “We’re going to see Natsume next, want to go together?”

“Oh, I already stopped by,” Kaname says. As much as he wants to visit again, Takashi went through so much today, he needs some peace and quiet.

“Oh, okay,” Kitamoto says.

There’s an awkward pause, and Kaname realizes they’d expected to only be here long enough for him to join them. He realizes he doesn’t want them to leave. And he realizes that this is the first time it’s just been the three of them together, and if he wants to actually be friends with them and not just through Takashi, he needs to make an effort.

“You said you visited the temple?” Kaname says, recalling what Kitamoto said during their first lunch together. “For the grand opening?”

“Oh, yeah,” Kitamoto says, brightening up. “We have a family plot here.”

“Did you see the rest of the temple? I can give you guys a tour,” Kaname offers. “Want to see where we’re putting the vegetable garden?”

All that means going outside. But Kaname refuses to be afraid.

He takes them on the same tour he gave Takashi. He shows them around the living quarters first, but skips the main hall to avoid disturbing his dad. Then the cemetery, where they pay a visit to Kitamoto’s family plot, to pray and light a stick of incense.

The praying together brings back memories of other temples Kaname lived in. The monks he and his dad worked and prayed and ate with. He misses them a lot these days, more than he usually does when he moves somewhere new.

He was never alone in those temples. Even when his dad had to leave for trips, or during the long year Dad was away building Yatsuhara. No matter where they lived, the monks were patient and kind with him. They took care of him, supported him, brought him into their lives so easily. Some of them knew about his sensitivity to the spirits, and they accepted it, even considered it a sign that Kaname was on the Bodhisattva path, or had already become one.

Kaname’s never felt especially enlightened. If anything, he thought he must have done something terrible in his past incarnations to spend his life in almost constant pain. His dad and the other monks assured him that wasn’t true, but there was a time when Kaname was desperate to purify his karma. He meditated and chanted from morning to night. He fasted, did chores, cared for others, and dedicated himself to enlightenment with every breath.

But his body was too weak. He collapsed and ended up in the hospital. His dad almost gave up being a monk, then, blaming himself for not raising Kaname in a more normal environment. But Kaname begged him not to, and promised to follow the Middle Path, and not do anything that extreme ever again. He promised to be as patient and kind with himself as he was to others.

And now he knows why purifying himself didn’t work, could never have worked.

He brings Nishimura and Kitamoto to the forest garden next. It’s Kaname’s favorite part of Yatsuhara, and next time Takashi is here, he wants to show him this. It’s beautiful and calm here, human effort and nature in perfect harmony.

But he feels a lot more uneasy now, after Takashi’s visit, and he’s wary of walking too far. The garden blends seamlessly into the wilderness, something his dad boasted about. But that makes it impossible to find the boundary line. Where is it safe, and where is it dangerous? If he’d brought Takashi here this morning, would they have been attacked?

It’s no wonder Takashi brings Ponta everywhere.

“Are you okay?” Kitamoto asks.

“I’m fine!” Kaname insists, and smiles for them. “Still recovering, I guess.”

Kitamoto and Nishimura give him the same look they often give Takashi.

“Let’s go see the shrine,” Kaname says, and leads them there.

Kaname’s never tried to share his sensitivity with his schoolmates. He was already isolated from them by his health, and he didn’t want to make things worse by telling them he could sense spirits as feelings and shadows. And anyway, at the monasteries, he already had plenty of people who knew and accepted him.

He has Takashi and Ponta now, but that hardly feels like enough.

He thinks Nishimura and Kitamoto would be safe to tell. They’re obviously kind and understanding, and they accept Takashi in all his strangeness. But Kaname can’t make that decision on his own. Before Yatsuhara, he and Dad would always decide together. Now it’s up to Takashi and Ponta, too, and Takashi obviously hasn’t wanted to tell them.

Still, it’s hard to hold back. He wants to tell them how amazing it was to find a treatment for his migraines. That if it wasn’t for Takashi, Kaname would be in agony right now. How to felt to help Takashi in return. And everything about Takashi’s visit!

But he can’t tell them any of that. All he can do is bow to the shrine and give his silent thanks.

And then there’s the last part of the tour. He hesitates again, like he did with the forest garden. The old shrine is definitely not safe yet. But the vegetable garden is for all of them. They’ve been making plans for it together.

Kaname refuses to let his fear get in the way, even if it means he gets another migraine. And he doesn’t feel anything hostile here. At least not yet.

“Wow, this place is great!” Kitamoto says, as he looks around at the old shrine area. He and Nishimura are both impressed.

“There’s a stream for irrigation,” Kaname says, pleased. “So we don’t have to bring water all the way from the temple.”

“We can plant everything!” Nishimura says. “We’ll have a huge feast!”

“It’s not like fishing,” Kitamoto reminds him. “Whatever we plant we have to take care of.”

“It’ll be a breeze,” Nishimura says, stubbornly positive. “I bet plants love to grow here.”

“Weeds are plants, too,” Kitamoto says.

“My vegetables are gonna be so huge,” Nishimura says, stars in his eyes. “Giant tomatoes! Squash bigger than— Than Natsume’s fat cat!”

Kitamoto laughs. Kaname imagines a Ponta made of pumpkins, and can’t help but laugh, too.

He really likes these two. He gets why Takashi feels comfortable with them. “Are you guys going fishing this weekend?”

“Yeah, tomorrow. You wanna come?” Nishimura asks.

“Sure!” Kaname says. “But I don’t have any equipment. And uh, I haven’t really fished much.”

“We’ll teach you,” Kitamoto says, confident.

“You can’t be any worse than Natsume,” Nishimura adds. “He tried to reel in a fish, and the fish caught him!”

“Too bad it got away, it must’ve been a big one,” Kitamoto laments.

“We rescued him,” Nishimura says, proudly.

Kaname is sure that whatever it was Takashi hooked that day, it wasn’t a normal fish. “Maybe he can join us, too?”

“You think so? He looked awful yesterday,” Nishimura says.

“How was he when you saw him?” Kitamoto asks.

“A lot better,” Kaname says. “I think he’ll be up for it.”

Kitamoto and Nishimura are skeptical, of course. Takashi looked half dead yesterday, maybe more than half. Kaname would be skeptical too, if he hadn’t seen Takashi’s recovery with his own eyes.

“We’re gonna bike to Futaba Dam on Sunday,” Kitamoto says. “We wanna see it while it’s still empty, and it’s supposed to rain next week. It’s too far to walk, but we can take turns carrying Natsume.”

“And his fat cat,” Nishimura adds.

“I guess he hasn’t had time for more bike lessons,” Kaname realizes.

“He’s gotta stop getting sick,” Nishimura says. “I keep telling him to eat some liver.”

“If he’s not recovered enough, you should join us anyway,” Kitamoto says. “We’ll visit him together every day until he’s better, cheer him up.”

“Definitely,” Kaname says.

He decides to not say anything about the liver. Being chronically ill means everyone has an opinion about exactly what he should do to not have migraines and fevers. Everyone has a miracle cure that they heard about from someone’s cousin. Sometimes all that well-meaning ‘help’ is more painful than actually being sick.

Then again, in Takashi’s case, the liver might actually help. It wouldn’t surprise Kaname if he is anemic, he’s always so pale.

And then Kaname goes pale as a chill runs up his spine. He turns around, wide-eyed, trying to find a shadow in the sunny field. He doesn’t see any, but the forest around the field is full of shadows.

“You okay?” Nishimura asks.

Kaname winces as his head starts to ache. “We have to go,” he says, urgently. He hurries back towards the temple. Nishimura and Kitamoto are confused, but follow him.

It’s hard to not break into a run. He thinks of when he first saw Takashi running through the school, going full-speed, pale and scared. What did he see there? Sasada said she was worried about a spirit at school. What’s behind him now? Is it chasing him? Toying with him?

But once they’re back on the temple grounds, his chill disappears. His headache starts to fade. It was a close call, but they must be safe now.

“Sorry,” Kaname says, relieved and embarrassed. “My head— I guess I’m still recovering.”

“It’s okay,” Kitamoto says. “Take it easy.”

“Yeah, go lie down or something,” Nishimura says. “Feel better so we can have fun this weekend, okay?”

“I will, thanks,” Kaname says.

He doesn’t want them to go. He doesn’t want to be alone. But he says goodbye anyway.

He doesn’t go to his dad. He stands in the middle of the temple grounds and doesn’t go anywhere.

Whatever was out there, it didn’t cross the boundary line. Whether it couldn’t or chose not to, he has no idea. Because he has no idea about anything. He feels as blind and useless as he did in Moriguchi and Kiriganuma.

He should be happy. He understands so much more now. He found a treatment for himself and Takashi. He has friends who care about him. He has ways to actually be safe.

He shouldn’t feel awful and terrified and vulnerable. He shouldn’t. He just wants to leave all that behind. But instead he’s suddenly back in Kiriganuma, lungs burning as he’s held underwater. He strains for the surface but it just gets farther away, and he realizes he’s about to—

“Tanuma-kun!”

Kaname is shocked into breathing in, but his lungs don’t fill with water.

He opens his eyes. He’s down on the ground and Sasada is kneeling in front of him, holding his arms and looking extremely worried.

“Sasada?” he says, confused.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she cries, relieved. “You weren’t breathing! I kept calling your name. What happened? Is it a spirit? Is it hurting you?”

Kaname’s lungs still ache, but it’s fading now that he’s breathing again. He’s not sure what just happened. Was it a memory? Or was it an attack?

“The shrine,” he tells her. “We have to go inside.”

Sasada’s confused, but she helps him stand. Then he pulls her along as he hurries to the shrine. He opens the door and pulls her inside, then slides the door shut.

Safe. They’re safe now. His legs feel weak so he sits down on the wooden floor.

He feels like a failure. A helpless child, trapped and afraid.

“Um,” Sasada says, as she looks around the sanctuary. “Should we be in here?”

“They can’t get us here,” Kaname tells her.

“Oh!” Sasada says, realizing something. “Is that why—“ She looks embarrassed.

“What?” Kaname prompts.

“When Natsume first came to our school, I started following him.” Sasada grimaces. “I know, it was awful of me. But I needed to know if the rumors were true. Sometimes when he ran away, he went to a shrine near the school.”

“Oh!” Kaname says, as his own curiosity about Takashi’s sudden sprints is answered. And why Dad found Takashi at a shrine after school, the day Takashi gave Dad his bento. It all makes sense now. His understanding of Takashi’s life, his survival, is suddenly clearer.

“He told me about them a couple days ago,” Kaname says. “That they’re safe.”

“When you got lost?” Sasada asks.

Of course, she only knows the cover story. “We didn’t get lost,” he tells her. “The place we went— There were yokai. I mean, there’s always spirits everywhere but—“

“Always?” Sasada asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Kaname sighs. “We tried to help them, but it was— There was trouble.“

“Was it bad?” Sasada asks, understanding. “Like the trial?”

Kaname nods.

“But you’re okay?” Sasada asks. “Both of you?”

“Yeah,” Kaname says. “It’s just— Didn’t it change things for you? What happened at the trial? I mean, I knew spirits were real, but— I didn’t know they were people. That they could be angry and— And want to hurt us.”

Sasada sits down with him. “To be honest, I’ve been trying not to think about it. I don’t like scary stuff. And that’s— It’s really scary.” She gives an exaggerated shiver.

“I’m sorry,” Kaname says, feeling bad about dragging her into this. “You can’t sense them. You should probably just— Go back to ignoring them, like everyone else.”

“But you can’t?”

Kaname shakes his head.

“Then I won’t either,” Sasada decides, bravely. “Even if you have to be scared, it’s better to be scared with someone else.”

“I have my dad,” Kaname points out. “He’s always known. And Natsume.” He catches himself before he mentions Ponta. Sasada’s going to find out about him sooner or later, but Kaname’s trying to only talk about his own problems and not Takashi’s, despite how much they overlap.

“Even if you had lots of people, that wouldn’t change anything,” Sasada says. “I never want to forget what happened with Shigure-sama. Even the scary things.”

“Yeah,” Kaname sighs, understanding. That’s how he feels about Takashi.

“Have you talked to them, about the scary things?” Sasada asks.

“Not really,” Kaname admits. He doesn’t want to burden Takashi or scare him away. And he wants to tell his dad, but he doesn’t know how. Especially with his dad already so upset.

“I’ve been talking to my stepmom about my parents,” Sasada says. “And I have a therapist now, I only talked to her once so far but she’s nice. I want to talk to them about Shigure-sama, too, but— I know they wouldn’t understand.”

“You can talk to me, if you want,” Kaname offers.

“Only if you talk to me,” Sasada says, softening her insistence with a half-smile. “Deal?”

“All right, deal,” Kaname accepts.

“You go first,” Sasada insists. “Why were you holding your breath?”

“I thought I was drowning,” Kaname admits.

“Drowning?” Sasada says, confused.

“I thought maybe it was an attack, but— It was probably just a memory.” Kaname realizes that now that he’s calmer. “Dad does a lot of volunteering, helping people who’re struggling. I know when something bad happens, you can have nightmares about it, even flashbacks. I guess that’s what it was.”

“You almost drowned for real?” Sasada asks, alarmed.

Kaname nods. “I’m okay, obviously. But— Yeah. An angry spirit held me under. Natsume saved me.”

“Wow,” Sasada says. “Like with Shigure-sama?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Kaname says.

“You know, that’s um— One of the things I have nightmares about,” Sasada admits. “When I got up to the roof and you and everyone else were just— Lying there. For a second I thought— I really thought everyone was dead, and it was all my fault. And then I saw you were breathing.” She gives a relieved, nervous laugh. “But Shigure-sama was still so angry. If Natsume hadn’t stopped him—“

“What happened on Wednesday was all my fault,” Kaname admits. “He kept trying to protect me, but I didn’t want to leave him alone. I wanted to help. But I felt useless because I can’t see what he sees. I am useless.”

“I almost got everyone killed because I wanted to thank a spirit,” Sasada says. “I was stubborn and stupid and—” She starts crying.

Kaname starts crying, too.

And then they look at each other, and they both give a teary laugh.

Kaname leans back against the wall and looks up at the sanctuary ceiling. “I almost died twice. I just found out that the spirits have been giving me migraines on purpose. They hate me because my dad hurt them trying to protect me. How messed up is that? And I have to pretend everything is normal. Go to school and do my homework, even though at any minute something is going to hurt me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“That’s awful,” Sasada says, and wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “I’d never want to go outside ever again.”

“I hate being afraid,” Kaname says. “I don’t want to let my fear control me. The spirits have been hurting me my whole life. It shouldn’t be different now just because I know more about them. I don’t want it to be different.”

“But it is,” Sasada says. “Every time Natsume gets scared, I get scared, wondering what he saw. I wonder about all the stories I’ve heard growing up. Taki’s grandfather used to tell us all kinds of stories.”

“He did?”

Sasada nods. “He loved learning about spirits. I don’t think he could sense them at all, but he liked the stories. Taki did, too. I guess she still does. She still won’t talk to me, though. She avoids me at school, and when I go to her house she won’t answer the door.”

“What about her family?” Kaname asks.

“Her grandfather died a few years ago,” Sasada says. “Her brother’s at college, and her parents are always away.”

“She’s alone?” Kaname asks, concerned.

“She wouldn’t be if she’d just talk to me,” Sasada says, frustrated.

“Do you want me to help?” Kaname offers. “She’s in my class. I even see her on my walk to school.”

Sasada considers it. “Maybe. But let me keep trying first. It’s not like this is a spirit thing, right? She’s just upset about something. I want her to know I won’t let her down again.” She looks determined.

“Okay,” Kaname says.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave Natsume alone,” Sasada says. “You know, when I first heard the rumors about him, I was so happy there was someone who could help me. But now I feel awful about how I treated him. The rumors— If they’re true, then— His life’s been really hard.”

“What did you hear?” Kaname asks, curious.

“His parents died when he was really young,” Sasada says, sympathetic. “He’s lived with a lot of different relatives, in a lot of places, but no one wanted to keep him. He faced all that spirit stuff completely alone.“ She covers her face in dismay. “I can’t believe I threatened to ruin his life here.”

“That was pretty bad,” Kaname admits.

“It was awful,” Sasada laments. “He should hate me forever.”

“I don’t think he hates you,” Kaname says. “He’s just going through a lot. Really, really a lot.”

He thinks about sitting on the bench in Kiriganuma, wet and shivering, and the emptiness in Takashi’s eyes.

Maybe if his dad had never soothed the monsters, this whole mess wouldn’t have happened. But it sounds like Takashi didn’t have anyone protecting him for a long time. Maybe not until he met Ponta. All he could do was run and hide, and the spirits still attacked him.

If Dad hadn’t soothed the monsters, maybe Kaname’s situation would be just as bad as it is now, or even worse.

He thinks about rainy days at the monastery, staying indoors with his dad and the other monks, working together, eating together. The warmth of belonging and community. He always had someone to talk to. He’s glad he still does.

He takes in a deep breath, lets it out. “This really helped, thank you.”

“You helped me too,” Sasada says. “I visited Shigure-sama every day for a year so I could help him. I won’t give up on Taki or Natsume. I just want them to know I’m here for them.”

Kaname wonders if Takashi will ever be ready to share his troubles like this. He hopes so.

He stands up and opens the door. Everything is peaceful. He steps out into the sun, and Sasada follows him.

They say their goodbyes, and she goes to visit Takashi.

Kaname goes to his room, and finds the omamori Sasada gave him, clean and dry after its misadventure in the swamp. He puts it back in his pocket, then he steps out onto the engawa and looks at the backyard.

Back when Kaname was trying to purify his karma, there was one sutra in particular that he turned to: the Four Factors. It said that whatever misdeeds had been committed or accumulated, in this life or lives before, they could be overcome.

Like much of the Buddha’s teachings, the advice was described simply and sensibly. Feel great remorse for the non-virtuous actions. Pledge restraint to avoid repeating them. Rely on the support of the Buddha, his teachings, and the community. And finally, put great effort into virtuous actions.

He went too far when he was young and hurt himself. But if he wants to make up for hurting all those spirits, it’s a good place to start. And he does have community here, even if it’s different than what he’s used to.

On his own, his backyard is still only grass and rocks. But he wants to reach down and touch the water in the pond, and make it ripple. He wants to feed the koi. He wants Takashi to tell him what Ponta looks like when he’s invisible, with his long, soft fur.

Maybe Kaname will always be afraid. But Takashi is afraid and he helps the spirits anyway. Kaname won’t give up on them either. He’ll let them know he’s there for them. And then maybe, with Takashi’s help, Kaname will have spirit friends, too.

He wishes Takashi really was family. Takashi could live at the temple and Dad and Ponta could protect both of them. Takashi could tell Kaname when he sees spirits nearby. Takashi could talk to them, or warn Kaname if they’re dangerous. Kaname could tell Takashi if what he’s seeing is part of the human world or the spirit world.

They could all be safe and happy together.

But it can only be a dream. Takashi isn’t a monk, sharing a dedicated life in a temple. He barely knows them, and they barely know him. And even though Takashi is afraid of the Fujiwaras, even though they’re only distantly related to him, they’re still his actual family.

If Kaname can only be Takashi’s friend, that’s already more than enough.

Chapter Text

Takashi squints awake to the morning sun. He’s disoriented at first, wondering why he forgot to close the blinds, why he’s sitting leaned against a wall instead of lying on his futon.

His eyes open wide as he remembers. The wolf yokai. The argument with Nyanko-sensei about Kousuke-san. He looks down and finds the Book on the floor beside him, fallen from his grip during sleep. He picks it up and holds it close.

Nyanko-sensei didn’t come back last night.

Takashi doesn’t think the cat would actually abandon him. Yokai take promises very seriously. But if his two bodyguards don’t get along, it’s going to cause trouble. And Takashi’s life has too much trouble in it already.

He gets dressed and goes downstairs. To his relief, Nyanko-sensei is in the kitchen. The cat is entirely focused on watching Touko-san make their breakfast.

Good. Now Takashi can return another Name today. Maybe he should do all four, get it over with?

Then he remembers everything else he has to do this weekend. Maybe he could get away with it if those yokai were all weak, but Sekkou wasn’t and that wolf yokai felt very strong. There’s rain in the forecast, but not so much that the dam will refill in only four days. He has time.

“Kousuke-san! Good morning!”

Takashi turns to see Shigeru-san on the phone in the hall. He listens as Shigeru-san invites the Tanumas over for dinner tomorrow, and asks if they have any favorite dishes.

Shigeru-san sounds relaxed and happy, talking to Kousuke-san. He has no idea that Kousuke-san isn’t human. Nothing good should come from the spirit and human worlds mixing. But then the Fujiwaras don’t know Nyanko-sensei isn’t a real cat, and that’s worked out so far. Maybe it’s different with noble beings.

“Takashi,” Shigeru-san calls, and holds out the phone receiver. “It’s Kaname.”

Takashi hurries over and takes the receiver. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kaname says.

Takashi feels another one of those strange little flutters of happiness. He blushes and turns away from the kitchen.

“Looks like me and Dad will be coming over tomorrow,” Kaname says. “That’s okay, right? I just wanted to make sure.”

“Yes, of course!” Takashi says.

“Good,” Kaname says, sounding relieved. “And I know you just got home, but— Would you like to come over? After breakfast? I was thinking you could bring your bike, and I could help you practice?”

Bike practice. After his tumble on Monday, it’s definitely a good idea. “That would be great,” Takashi says. “And um, we could do our homework together?”

They also need to give offerings to the shrine together. But Takashi can’t talk about that where the Fujiwaras could hear.

“Yeah!” Kaname says, far happier than he should be about homework on a weekend. But Takashi feels just as happy about it. “Oh, did you talk to Nishimura and Kitamoto yesterday?”

“I was napping when they came here.”

“They’re going fishing,” Kaname says. “If you’re feeling up to it, we can join them?”

Bike lessons and shared homework and fishing with friends. It all feels impossibly idyllic. “Yes, that sounds wonderful,” Takashi says, and finds himself smiling again.

“Great, I’ll see you soon,” Kaname says. “And tell Ponta I have that squid I owe him.”

“I will,” Takashi promises.

The conversation lifts his mood so much that he’s able to enjoy breakfast even though Nyanko-sensei continues to ignore him.

Once Touko-san hears he’s going to Yatsuhara, she insists on making lunch for him to bring with him— Not just for himself, but for Kaname and Kousuke-san, too. Takashi takes his bag and the containers out to his bike and loads up the basket.

Nyanko-sensei saunters casually out of the house, then licks his paw and cleans his face.

“Are you coming?” Takashi asks, with what he feels is generous patience.

“Hm?” Nyanko-sensei says, and looks at him in mock surprise. “Oh, are you going somewhere?”

“Do what you want,” Takashi says, unwilling to un-bruise Nyanko-sensei’s ego. Maybe Takashi wouldn’t need a whole other yokai bodyguard if his regular yokai bodyguard actually did his job instead of disappearing whenever he felt like it and coming back drunk half the time. “I’ll tell Kaname you don’t want his squid.”

Predictably, Nyanko-sensei looks absolutely distressed at that. “That’s my squid!” He waddles over to the bike, extra round from breakfast. The basket is full, so he hops up onto the bike seat and manages to make a dignified perch.

Takashi wasn’t going to sit on it anyway. If he wants to get to Yatsuhara in one piece, the last thing he should do is ride. He grabs the handlebars and starts pushing.

When he was first brought to the temple two days ago, he was unconscious. When he left it, he was hiding under a blanket at the back of Kousuke-san’s car. But signs point the way and soon enough he sees the entrance.

Kousuke-san is out front, sweeping the walkway. When he sees them, he waves and smiles.

“Takashi, Nyanko-sensei,” Kousuke-san greets. He gives Nyanko-sensei a respectful bow. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’m deeply grateful.”

Nyanko-sensei gives a harumph, but flattery is as effective on him as bribery. “As you should be, human. Now where’s my squid?”

If Kousuke-san is offended by the slight, he doesn’t show it. “Come inside, please.”

Takashi leaves his bike by the front door, and carries Touko-san’s food inside. Kaname is in the kitchen, frying squid in a pan. He greets them happily.

“Do you like fried squid, Ponta?” Kaname teases, as if Nyanko-sensei’s ravenous expression wasn’t answer enough.

“He already had breakfast,” Takashi points out.

“More breakfast!” Nyanko-sensei cries.

Kaname chuckles and finishes cooking the squid, then offers the plate. Nyanko-sensei polishes it clean, then leans back with a contented sigh.

The warm moment feels surreal. The Tanumas are as kind and generous as the Fujiwaras, but Nyanko-sensei doesn’t have to pretend to be a real cat with them. They know the truth, and it’s fine.

It can’t be fine. It is, but it can’t be. But it is.

“Touko-san made us lunch,” Takashi tells them. He looks down at the food and even accounting for Nyanko-sensei’s inevitable demands, Takashi couldn’t possibly eat all of his own share. He should use some for his offering. “Could I have a plate?”

“Of course,” Kousuke-san says, and hands him one. “Are you still hungry, too?”

“Not at all,” Takashi protests, worried that the Tanumas might think the Fujiwaras aren’t feeding him enough. “It’s for the shrine. My offering.”

“Oh!” Kaname says, and gives Kousuke-san a meaningful glance. “We should do our offerings now, right?”

Kaname seems oddly nervous. Takashi has no idea why. He’s the one who should be nervous. And he is, of course. But after everything he’s already shared with the Tanumas, the fact that the gods physically take his offerings feels almost mundane.

Almost. It’s still something he’s never been able to share with a human. No one ever saw, no one ever believed. Kaname probably won’t be able to see it either. But at least they won’t call him a liar.

Kousuke-san goes to a cabinet, but instead of a plate he takes out three offering trays. “There’s no need to use your lunch. We make offerings every day, we have plenty of supplies.”

Kaname turns back to the fridge and takes out cooked mochi and vegetables, and Kousuke-san takes out sake and salt and fruit. They fill the trays with practiced ease, not leaving the food whole like many do, but cutting it into bite-sized pieces. All three trays are filled the same, except Kousuke-san’s, which is the only one to get sake.

The offerings are more than fit for a god. But this isn’t just any god. The being in the shrine helped them so much. And the Tanumas have already given him so much. It doesn’t feel right to not offer something of his own.

But how can he refuse what they’ve already given him? He could save some of his lunch and come back to give a second offering? But they already have so many things planned this weekend, when will he have time? If he does it tonight, will Nyanko-sensei come with him? Or will he still be too jealous?

“Is something wrong?” Kousuke-san asks.

“No! No, of course not,” Takashi insists. He bows to them. “Thank you, this is— You’re both very generous, and kind. Thank you.”

Kousuke-san doesn’t seem convinced. He gives Takashi a thoughtful look. “You must be used to making your own offerings. There’s room on our trays. How about we all add some of that lunch you brought?”

Takashi stares at him in surprise. How did he know? Can Kousuke-san look into his soul? That would explain a lot. “Uh, yes, thank you,” he says, relieved.

Kousuke-san gives him a warm smile.

They carry their trays of food outside, except for Nyanko-sensei who follows casually behind them. When they reach the shrine, they wash their hands, clap and bow.

“So, um,” Kaname starts. “Before we go in, there’s something I should tell you. It’s kind of weird. Well, I mean, it’s probably not weird to you. It’s just—“ He stops, flustered, and looks to Kousuke-san. Kousuke-san gives him an encouraging nod.

“When I make offerings, something happens,” Kaname says. “The food doesn’t just sit there, it— Half of it disappears.” He gives a nervous laugh. “And the food that’s left— Anyone’s offering, really— It feels like— Well, I used to be afraid to eat any of it, but then we realized if it was blessed then— Takashi?”

A wave of numbness hits Takashi’s whole body, but somehow he holds on to his tray. He’s suddenly back in the school hallway, listening as Kaname tells him he sees strange shadows.

It shouldn’t shock him anymore, to know Kaname is like him. But it does. Kaname’s words ring him like a bell, just like they did that day.

“Takashi?” Kousuke-san calls, worried.

“Me too,” Takashi chokes out, staring down at his tray. “It happens to me, too.”

He dares to look up. Kaname’s expression— It’s like it was that day, but so much more. Soft and happy and full of awe.

“I guess I should’ve known,” Kaname says, with a self-effacing laugh. “Every time we gave food to Santo, it disappeared.”

That day, when Kaname told him— Takashi ended up feeling awful and overwhelmed. He feels overwhelmed again, but not awful. A new feeling opens inside him. He thinks it might be relief that’s making his eyes damp.

“Come sit down,” Kousuke-san says, and reaches for Takashi’s tray.

“I’m okay,” Takashi insists, and gathers himself. “I’m ready to give the offering.”

The three of them go inside. Takashi glances back to see Nyanko-sensei sitting in the doorway, watching.

They kneel in front of the shintai and put out their trays. Takashi silently sends his sincere gratitude to the god within for its care and protection and incredibly generous healing. He silently asks that this meal strengthen the bond between the three of them and the god, so that they may all continue to care for each other, and that the god will forgive his many mistakes.

As they always do, long, ghostly hands reach out. They touch the food on Takashi’s tray, taking half and leaving the rest blessed. The moment the half is taken, Kaname and Kousuke-san both react, seeing it disappear. They see it happen.

Then the hands move to Kaname’s tray and do the same. Kaname and Kousuke-san react again. Finally the hands move to Kousuke-san’s tray, and the food there is blessed but left behind.

Takashi stares at the two half-emptied trays. He looks up and meets Kaname’s eyes.

His lingering numbness is washed away by a wave of warmth. He blushes, and then realizes Kaname is blushing, and both of them look away, flustered.

“Um. We should eat,” Takashi says, and picks up his tray. He’s glad he saved some room during breakfast.

The three of them sit together in the sanctuary and eat their blessed food. And it’s not just Takashi sharing the meal with the god. It was right here in this place that Kousuke-san declared Takashi to be part of their family.

Takashi hasn’t had a family for a very long time. And Kousuke-san isn’t human. But Kaname is. And the being in the shrine shared Kaname’s food, just like it shared Takashi’s. Strengthening the bond between them.

He realizes he’s smiling again. He’s happy. And it doesn’t hurt.

Thank you, he thinks to the god in the shrine, grateful with his entire being.

When they walk outside, Nyanko-sensei is casually washing his face again. But Takashi knows he saw all of that. Is his silence a good thing or a bad thing?

“What would you like to do first?” Kaname asks. “Homework or bike practice?”

“Let’s do our homework first,” Takashi decides. He’d rather do it before he inevitably gets banged up.

“You’ll be inside for a while?” Kousuke-san asks. “Good. Nyanko-sensei, I wanted to ask for your help in changing the boundary around the temple grounds. It needs to cover more area, to protect the boys. And I was hoping you could advise me on how to make it stronger?”

“Can’t handle it yourself?” Nyanko-sensei scoffs.

But Kousuke-san just laughs. “I must humbly rely on your expertise. I do have that dango you asked for?”

Nyanko-sensei looks at Takashi and silently challenges him. As if Kousuke-san needing help is proof he isn’t a spirit at all. As if Takashi hasn’t met all kinds of spirits with all kinds of problems. Takashi looks back at Nyanko-sensei and silently asks him to accept the situation and move on.

Nyanko-sensei gives a long suffering sigh. “Only because you have dango,” he tells Kousuke-san, agreeing. But he gives Takashi a look that says this conversation isn’t over.

Takashi rolls his eyes at him.

Takashi and Kaname head back to the house, leaving their guardians to sort out the boundary. They set up in the living room and spread out their books and papers on the table. Takashi looks out through the open screens to the spirit pond and the neglected spirit garden.

“Everything okay with you and Ponta?” Kaname asks.

Takashi hesitates. He’s sure Nyanko-sensei will get over his ego-bruising soon.

“Yes,” Takashi says, certain. “He just— Needs some time to adjust.”

“Adjust?” Kaname asks.

“He’s jealous,” Takashi admits, blushing again.

Kaname laughs, surprised. “Of what?”

“Kousuke-san,” Takashi admits.

“My dad?” Kaname says, his eyebrows even higher. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Takashi sighs. He really doesn’t. “Sometimes I don’t understand him at all.”

“Ponta’s definitely strange,” Kaname says.

They set aside talk of bodyguards and shrines, and settle into their mundane homework. It’s even better than their study session with Kitamoto and Nishimura. Not that he didn’t enjoy that. But there’s something special about being with Kaname like this, just the two of them, actually safe and relaxed and happy.

He can’t remember ever feeling this good. He tries not to focus on it, because if he thinks about it too much he knows he’ll worry himself right out of it, because it shouldn’t be possible.

But it’s real. It’s happening. And Kaname seems just as happy.

This must what it’s like to have a friend. A real friend who understands him. How can everyone else be so calm about something so special? How can they talk about friendship so casually, like it isn’t the most amazing thing in the world?

When they’ve finished their homework, they go outside and check on Kousuke-san and Nyanko-sensei. The two of them have just finished adjusting the temple boundary. They widened it to cover not only the garden area, but also the forest garden — which now Takashi knows is real — and the street and parking lot in front of the temple. There’s some Nyanko-sensei-feeling in the barrier now, and it’s definitely stronger.

“Thank you Sensei, Kousuke-san,” Takashi says, bowing deeply in thanks.

Kaname bows too. “Thank you for making it safe here.”

“It will keep out most things, but don’t get cocky,” Nyanko-sensei says, the warning clearly directed at Takashi.

In other words, don’t start returning Names here on his own. “I won’t,” Takashi promises.

“That was way too much work, I’m taking a nap,” Nyanko-sensei declares, and waddles off to a shady spot.

With the new boundary, Takashi and Kaname can safely ride around in front of the temple. Kousuke-san stays nearby and does some work on the cemetery, reluctant to go too far after the attack yesterday. But Nyanko-sensei isn’t far either.

After a lot of wobbling around, Takashi’s balance on his bike finally starts to improve. He’s barely fallen at all, though that’s mostly thanks to Kaname catching him.

Takashi doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone as amazing as Kaname.

Just when they’re about to stop for lunch, Kitamoto and Nishimura come biking up the road. They wave and call hello.

“You’re all better?” Nishimura asks, pleased. “That’s great! You really had us worried for a minute.”

Takashi finds himself blushing at their concern. “Um, yes,” he says. “And Kaname’s helping me practice.”

“Great! Show us your stuff,” Kitamoto says.

Takashi gets back on his bike and pedals. His muscles are trembling from the sustained effort of practice, but he’s able to take a few loops around and then come to a steady stop.

“That’s great!” Nishimura says. He and Kitamoto are both proud and pleased. “Hey, we’re going fishing. You guys both up to joining us?”

“Definitely,” Kaname says. “We were just about to have lunch. You want to join us?”

Nishimura gives an enthusiastic yes. They park their bikes and everyone goes inside, crowding into the kitchen. Takashi helps Kaname and Kousuke-san get everything ready, this time adding some of the Tanumas’ food to what Takashi brought. They take their plates to the engawa and sit outside, and Takashi impossibly finds himself feeling even happier.

All of them help clean up, and then they get on their bikes and wave goodbye to Kousuke-san. Nyanko-sensei chooses to sit in Kaname’s basket, but they take a slow pace and Takashi makes it all the way to their fishing spot without falling.

After the initial excitement of getting all their fishing poles set up, things settle down. Takashi is worn out from cycling and homework. He ends up falling asleep, listening to the burble of the river and the easy conversation of his friends.

His friends.

When he wakes up, Nyanko-sensei is dozing on his lap. Takashi pets him, and hopes that their quarrel is finally over.

“You guys catch anything?” Takashi asks, as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

“Yeah, take a look!” Kaname says, and proudly shows him three respectably sized fish. “I caught that one!” he says, pointing.

“C’mon, there’s still time for you to catch one, too,” Nishimura says.

Takashi moves the still-dozing Nyanko-sensei off his lap, and lets his friends circle around him, encouraging and helping him. And when he feels a tug on his line — and it’s a real fish this time, not a fish yokai — they help him reel in the fish and net it.

Takashi looks at the four fish swimming in the bucket, and it’s all he can do to not cry happy tears.

On the ride back to Yatsuhara, Nyanko-sensei sits in Takashi’s basket, and Takashi lets him eat the fish he caught.

Kitamoto and Nishimura split off and head home. Takashi wants to go with them on their ride tomorrow, to visit the empty dam. He’s curious to see the home of the yokai he’s helping. But it’s a long ride there and back, and he and Kaname already have important plans.

Back at the temple, Takashi gathers his things. It’s hard to leave, but he’ll see Kaname at dinner tomorrow. And at lunch the day after, and maybe after school, too. He’s never felt so excited to be with someone before. To share his life with another human. A human who understands, and shares his world.

He walks his bike back home, too tired to ride, but the whole way there he feels like he’s floating.

“Welcome home,” Touko-san greets. She looks him up and down, checking for injuries, and relaxes when she doesn’t see any. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yes, very much,” Takashi says. He hands over the empty, cleaned containers. “Lunch was delicious, thank you. Everyone enjoyed it. Kitamoto and Nishimura, too.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” Touko-san says, smiling. She puts aside the containers, and reaches out. Pets his hair, like she did yesterday.

It’s still something Takashi has to brace himself against. But he’s so safe and content right now, it actually feels kinda nice.

“Ah!” She pulls back her hand and there’s a leaf in it. “There’s time before dinner. Why don’t you go clean up?”

Upstairs, Takashi scrubs himself and Nyanko-sensei, and then they soak together in the tub.

“I have to return a Name tonight,” Takashi reminds him. “Will you stay?”

Nyanko-sensei gives a long sigh, contentment mixed with resignation. “Are you going to be a stubborn idiot and not listen to me?”

“Yes.”

Nyanko-sensei harrumphs. “Have it your way. But I’m not going to waste my time telling you what’s what if you’re not going to listen.”

“It’s just this once,” Takashi says, a little pleading.

“It better be,” Nyanko-sensei says. After a pause, he says. “Might as well sleep here tonight. I can’t let the rabble get any ideas about my territory.”

“Thank you, Sensei,” Takashi says, and slumps back, relieved.

Over dinner, Takashi keeps yawning. He apologizes for it, but Shigeru-san only suggests that he go to bed early. He’s still recovering, after all.

Like yesterday, Takashi wants to linger with the Fujiwaras after dinner. But he can barely keep his eyes open. He says goodnight, unrolls his futon, and falls deeply asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.

He wakes to a familiar knocking sound on his window. He takes out the Book and pulls back the blinds, and the four dam yokai are waiting.

“I can return one Name tonight,” he tells them. He doesn’t want to yawn his way through dinner with Kaname tomorrow.

The yokai who enters is animal-like, covered in soft brown fur, and wears a blue yukata. It has a large face and a wide, somewhat alarming grin. Nyanko-sensei watches calmly.

“One who would protect me, show me your Name.”

Wind rushes up around Takashi, and a single page stands up straight. He rips it out, tucks the Book under his arm, folds the page, bites it. Claps his hands together and blows the Name out of the page.

“Chame.”

The ink dives into Chame’s forehead, and new memories stream into Takashi’s head.

He is a young pup, just born from his river otter mother. His world is her soft fur and his squirming siblings, safe in the darkness of their den. When he and his siblings are big enough, she takes them outside, and the world is so huge it overwhelms him.

But even as he squeaks in distress, he is grabbed by the scruff and pulled down, stiff and shocked as his mother forces him into another new thing: water, river.

Swim, she shows him. This is our place. This is where we hunt and play. Swim!

And he swims! In no time at all, he and his siblings are splashing around in delight, chasing and catching fish, and everything feels right.

And then the humans come. They chase them, catch them. He’s the only one who gets away. He misses the soft fur of his mother, the jostling of his siblings, all of them piled together in their den.

He grows up, finds other otters. But his kind grow fewer and fewer. Still, he always escapes the humans. And just when he expects to die a natural death, he finds himself changing into something else. Something beyond the reach of humans.

A yokai.

Chame takes to his new life like he took to the river. He changes his shape and plays with the humans like he once played with his siblings. Mimics them and teases them. They can’t hurt him anymore.

He follows the river and finds others like him. A new family, one that will never be taken from him. Just like when he was a pup, he sleeps in a pile of warm, soft bodies, safe in their den.

And then a human girl comes and asks to play a game. And he so loves games.

He’s not mad when Reiko takes his Name. He didn’t have a Name before he became a spirit, why should he care? But then the humans in the village leave, and the water comes. And even though he can swim, without his Name, the still water of the dam weighs him down.

The other otter yokai still have their Names, and they want to leave this false lake and return to the river. They promise they won’t leave without him. But they have to wait for so long.

Takashi opens his eyes and sits up.

“I’m sorry you had to wait so long,” he tells Chame.

But Chame just giggles. “So long!” he says, and leaps out the window. Takashi looks, and down below he sees a crowd of what must be the other otter yokai. They welcome him into their arms and then they all disappear.

“We will be back tomorrow for the next Name,” the wolf yokai says. He bows respectfully, and then he and the other two dam yokai leave.

Takashi closes the window and draws the curtains. He lies back down in his bed and closes his eyes. Nyanko-sensei perches on top of him, a warm, soft weight.

In Takashi’s dream, he goes to his closet and takes out his cardboard box. Instead of taking something out of it, he crawls inside, and finds he’s not alone. He can’t see who they are, but they pull him close, surround him with their warmth. And in darkness of their cardboard den, his family holds him.

Chapter Text

On Sunday morning, instead of walking to the shops for his errands, Takashi rides his bike. He still wobbles on turns and stops, but as long as he takes it slow, Nyanko-sensei doesn’t complain too much.

There’s a few clouds in the sky — the first hints of the upcoming rain — but it’s still a beautiful day. And the weather should be beautiful again by next weekend, just in time for the hydrangea festival.

The Fujiwaras told him all about the local festival over breakfast. A lively event, full of food and music and performances. Shigeru-san suggested Takashi attend it with his friends, and even said he’d give Takashi some extra allowance to spend there. Takashi protested, but Shigeru-san absolutely insisted.

Takashi feels impossibly lucky. To be staying here in such a wonderful place, full of such kind and generous people. He a deep breath, and even the air is sweet.

It was even kind of them to ask him to pick up some items for the dinner party tonight. Few of the people he lived with before ever trusted him to do anything for them. And of course they didn’t, when Takashi couldn’t walk to the shops without being attacked or chased, when anything he was responsible for would end up broken or soiled.

Memories flash through him, full of painful anger and frustration and disgust. He tenses and his balance wobbles, and Nyanko-sensei perks up in alarm.

Takashi grips the handlebars tight and pushes the memories down, away. He doesn’t need to think about any of that anymore. It’s over and done with. He has to forget the past, stay in the present and treasure every moment. It’s time to be happy in his new, impossibly wonderful life. That’s all that matters.

His balance steadies again, and Nyanko-sensei settles. He’s fine, everything’s fine.

The Fujiwaras didn’t just trust him with these errands. He spent the morning helping them get the house ready for their guests. And even though he was clumsy and dropped a few things, and probably didn’t do anything right, they didn’t get upset with him. Whenever he faltered, they only smiled and encouraged him to continue.

He knows they’ve been this kind from the beginning. They wouldn’t have asked him to live with him if they weren’t. But he’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for their rejection. And now—

He still is. He doesn’t know how to not be rejected, by humans or yokai. Whatever luck he’s stumbled into will run out, it has to. But he wants to treasure this idyll for as long as it lasts. He wants to believe he has a home, that the people around him will continue to care for him.

Every past experience tells him he should know better, that wanting will only make his inevitable losses hurt more. But he wants to forget the pain, wants it to be over and done with. He wants to be like Chame and find a family that will keep him.

He doesn’t need Nyanko-sensei to tell him he’s a fool, that what he wants is impossible. But he never even imagined finding someone like Kaname. Or protectors like Nyanko-sensei and Kousuke-san. So maybe, just maybe—

He reaches the shops and finds the items Touko-san asked for. And then he sees a florist display of cut hydrangea flowers, in an array of colors. Each color has a descriptive card in front of it, showing its associations.

He considers blue for gratitude, or purple for wealth. Maybe a mix of both, to show how grateful he is for the abundance they’ve given him. But then he sees the card for green hydrangeas. Maybe they’re not the showiest, but their meaning—

New beginnings.

Yes. That’s what he chooses.

The closer they get to dinner, the more anxious Takashi becomes.

He knows he shouldn’t be. Kousuke-san is even better than Nyanko-sensei at pretending to be part of the mundane world. The Fujiwaras already knew him long before Takashi even came here. And they already like Kaname.

But he wants this to go well. He needs it to. The more he has, the more he can lose, and Takashi has so much now.

The Fujiwaras can’t find out. If they do, if they even suspect the truth, his life here will be over. No one will take him in, and he’ll be alone. That used to be all he wanted, the best he could hope for. Now it’s a catastrophe.

But in a few years, when he’s of age, surely he’ll be alone then?

No, he can’t think about the future. It’s a miracle he wasn’t eaten alive years ago, and despite his new protectors things are even more dangerous for him now. The future is just as meaningless as the past.

When there’s a knock on the front door, Takashi hurries to answer it. His hand trembles as he reaches for the door. He’s used to staying perfectly calm under duress, but all these new feelings—

He slides open the door and they’re here.

“Good evening, Takashi!” Kousuke-san says, cheerful.

“Um. Yes. Good evening. Please come inside,” Takashi says.

“Ah, Kousuke-san!” Shigeru-san says, smiling. “And Kaname. We’re so happy to have you.”

“We brought a little something,” Kousuke-san says, and holds out a bottle of sake. “To complement Touko-san’s delicious cooking.”

“And some peaches for dessert,” Kaname adds.

“Oh, those are lovely,” Touko-san says, when she sees the peaches. “They’ll go perfectly with the ice cream.”

“We’ll do our best to save some room,” Kousuke-san says, and pats his stomach. “Though it’ll be difficult to hold back. Dinner already smells delicious!”

Just then, Nyanko-sensei comes in from his afternoon walk. Kousuke-san sees him and bows to him, just like he does at Yatsuhara. “Nyanko-sensei,” he greets, respectfully.

Too respectfully. Takashi starts to panic. Doesn’t Kousuke-san know to pretend that Nyanko-sensei is a real cat? What if he talks to Nyanko-sensei more? What if Nyanko-sensei talks back?! How can Takashi stop this before it’s too late?!

But Shigeru-san just laughs. “Do you have a soft spot for Nyangoro already? Don’t take advantage of him, Nyangoro.”

Nyanko-sensei just licks his paw, unbothered. Kousuke-san laughs too, and the conversation moves on.

It’s fine, everything’s fine.

The close call leaves Takashi a little dizzy. But he forces back on his smile.

He notices Kaname looking at him, and smiles at him. Kaname frowns slightly, then smiles back.

Takashi and Kaname set the table while the adults bring over the food, and then everyone settles around the table. Instead of sitting alone on his side of the table, Kousuke-san is to his right, and Kaname to his left.

“So did you boys have fun yesterday?” Touko-san asks Kaname. “Takashi-kun was so tired yesterday, you must have done a lot.”

“Um, yes,” Kaname says, and glances at Takashi.

“I hope Kaname-kun tells you more than Takashi-kun tells us,” Touko-san says to Kousuke-san, amused. “I never get to hear about his adventures.”

Takashi tenses up again. Most of what happened yesterday was innocuous. But with the other people he lived with— Even if they said they wanted to know, knowing still upset them. Even innocuous things. It’s better to say nothing than risk upsetting people.

“We just hung out,” Kaname says, unafraid. “We caught up on our homework, rode our bikes. Then we went fishing with Nishimura and Kitamoto.”

“He caught a fish this big!” Kousuke-san says, holding his hands far apart.

“Not that big,” Kaname protests.

“You’re right, it was this big!” Kousuke-san says, holding his hands even farther apart.

Kaname laughs and shakes his head.

Takashi watches them in quiet awe. They’re so easy with each other. So happy. It gives Takashi the same jumble of feelings he always gets, watching happy families. And as always, he forces himself to smile while he pushes those feelings away. Forces himself to keep eating while he forces the knot in his stomach to disappear.

He can’t be part of their family. Even though Kousuke-san said he is. He doesn’t know how to fit himself into that much happiness. He doesn’t know how to not ruin it. Even though the things that already happened should have already ruined it.

He looks at the centerpiece bouquet, the green hydrangeas. New beginnings, that’s what he chose. Maybe it doesn’t matter what he deserves. These kind, generous people would have given this much to anyone, given even more. Maybe all he has to be is grateful.

He manages to relax again, and enjoys the rest of the meal. He helps cut up the peaches for dessert, and they do go perfectly with the ice cream. Takashi’s eyes tear up while he eats, and he discreetly wipes them.

After dinner, Takashi and Kaname leave the adults and sit on the engawa together. Nyanko-sensei lazes on his lap, stuffed full from dinner, and Takashi pets him idly. They look out at the backyard, and the forest that rises up beyond it, looking up where Yatsuhara looks down. It’s a cloudy night, but the moon still peeks through, and the rain is still holding off. The sound of Kousuke-san and the Fujiwaras’ conversation drifts out from the living room, warm like the light from inside.

Nothing went wrong. Everyone’s relaxed and happy and safe. This feels even more like a dream than all the other amazing gifts he’s been given these past few days.

He wants to keep this. He doesn’t know how but he wants it so much. How can he stop himself from ruining it? How can he keep it safe?

He needs to protect this gift.

Everything he has depends on the Book. And right now, there’s one major threat to the Book, to his entire life here.

Sasada.

He had planned to ask Kousuke-san for advice, because Kousuke-san is good with humans. But Kaname is good with humans, too. Better than Takashi, at least, despite their shared condition.

Takashi thought he’d never had a friend like this. A human his own age who knows and understands and accepts. It should be impossible. But now—

He thinks friends are supposed to share things with each other. Kitamoto and Nishimura share everything, and it seems effortless for them. Is that because they’ve known each other their whole lives? If that’s what it takes, then there’s nothing Takashi can do. But he’s been to so many schools. He’s seen other transfer students make and keep friends. He doesn’t know if their friendships lasted, because he always had to leave after a few months. But they seemed happy.

He feels the Book against the small of his back, safe and secure. Nyanko-sensei is purring, and his short fur is soft against Takashi’s fingers.

He remembers Sasada’s anger as she threatened to expose him to the Fujiwaras. Her watchful eyes in the classroom.

He can do this. If he wants to hold on to his life here, he has to do this.

“So um,” Takashi starts.

Kaname won’t be upset. They’re the same. Kaname was at the trial, tried to protect him from Sasada. He’ll understand. He won’t be angry.

Kaname turns and looks at him. Takashi’s heart is beating so fast.

“There’s something I—“ Takashi continues, fumbling for the right words. He can’t tell Kaname about the Book. What can he say? “You don’t have to— If you don’t want, I just—“ He forces himself to take a shaky breath. Why is this so hard?

Kaname waits, patient, calm. There a serenity in him that Takashi feels suddenly, intensely envious of. But it soothes him, too. Just to see it. For someone to look at him and— And not be angry or scared or—

“I’m worried. About— Sasada.”

“Sasada?”

Takashi swallows. “At the trial. She saw. She knows.” And she doesn’t just know about him. Kaname is in danger, too.

Takashi pulls Nyanko-sensei up against his chest, startling him from his doze. He hugs the cat tight. He tried to stop her from finding out. He tried, but he failed. She knows. She saw.

“Did something happen?” Kaname asks, concerned.

Takashi struggles to answer that. She hasn’t done anything yet, not since the trial of courage. But she could bring everything crashing down in an instant. By the time it happened, it would already be too late.

“No,” he admits.

Maybe it’s already too late. Maybe this is the end right now. And he’s ruining it. He shouldn’t have said anything. He couldn’t have done anything to stop her anyway. He never can.

“Never mind,” he says, forcing on a smile. Forcing himself to relax. “I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s fine.”

But that must have been the wrong thing to say, because it only makes Kaname frown more. There’s no sign of that serenity now. Takashi ruined it.

“Did you talk to her?” Kaname asks.

Takashi shakes his head once.

“I talked to her,” Kaname says. “A few times.”

Takashi looks at him warily.

“She feels really bad about what happened,” Kaname continues. “She wants to make it up to you. I told her to give you some space. But if you’re that worried, then— Maybe you should talk. We can do it away from school, she can come to Yatsuhara—”

“No,” Takashi says, urgently. Then he calms himself. “No. We need to stay away from her.” It doesn’t matter what happens to him, but— “If she hurts you—“

“She’s not going to hurt me,” Kaname says, with a laugh of disbelief. “She’s my friend.”

Takashi stares at him, unable to understand.

“We talked,” Kaname continues. His expression softens. “About the spirits. How we feel. It really helped, you know? To—“

A sudden silence passes through Takashi, and he can’t hear what Kaname is saying anymore. It’s followed by a deep, numbing calm.

He was right. It’s already over.

His hearing fades back, but Kaname isn’t talking anymore. He’s looking at Takashi and he’s worried again.

Takashi realizes his arms are empty. Nyanko-sensei is sitting up and looking at him with those knowing eyes.

I’m sorry, Takashi thinks.

“I’m sorry,” Kaname says. “But I really think Sasada’s safe.”

Sasada will never be safe. Normal humans can’t know the truth about him. If they know, he has to leave. He didn’t want to accept that. He tried to ignore it. But if Kaname is telling her more, giving her more evidence against him—

“You’re right,” Takashi lies. “I’m sorry.”

He thought Kaname understood. Kaname is so much like him, how can he not understand? How can they share so much, but not this?

Maybe the differences between them are too big after all. Maybe not being able to see spirits clearly— Maybe Kaname belongs in the human world after all, in a way Takashi never will.

There’s a rumble in the distance. The rainclouds finally threatening to break.

“It’s going to rain soon,” Takashi says, and smiles. “You should probably head home. Thank you so much for coming over.”

Kaname stares at him and doesn’t respond. Takashi turns and walks inside.

Takashi keeps on his smile as the Tanumas say their goodbyes, hoping to soothe Kaname’s unhappiness and the confusion of Kousuke-san and the Fujiwaras. But as usual there’s nothing he can do to fix the situation except remove himself from it.

He should have left after the trial. Even if the Fujiwaras aren’t ready to get rid of him, staying here will hurt them, and soon. He’s not old enough to live alone among humans, not yet, but maybe now that he has Nyanko-sensei—

Nyanko-sensei complains about not getting to drink any sake at the party. Takashi lets the words flow past him.

He gets ready for bed, rolls out his futon, lies down. Listens to the light patter of rain against the windows.

He wakes up to a knocking.

He lets the three remaining yokai inside. The wolf, the five-eyed octopus, and the kappa. “I can return all your Names tonight,” he tells them.

“Thank you, Natsume-dono,” says the wolf yokai, bowing.

Takashi claps his hands and breathes out the name of the kappa. His human life is washed away as new memories flood into him.

Shiko.

He has always lived in the mountains, and he has always been happy.

He came into existence like the others of his kind, when kami pooled in the bend of a pure stream, swirled and strengthened there until the spirit of the mud and plants and water found form.

He is not a regular kappa but a shibaten, a guardian of streams and gardens. His physical form ebbs and flows. When he has a body, he wrestles and plays with other spirits. When he is formless, he is the grass again, he is the soft mud and all the things that root and grow, he is the water and the life the flows up to the sun. He is the heavy soil after a rain, falling down the mountainside, a landslide that buries life and births it, bringing forth waves of fresh green.

But once a year, an urge comes over him, over all his kin. Once a year they travel down the mountains to where the humans live. They find gardens full of vegetables at the peak of ripeness and feast on them, knowing them as offerings. Cucumbers are his favorite, for their satisfying, watery crunch, and he stuffs himself full of them.

After they’ve sated themselves, before they return home, some of them play with the humans, challenging them to games and wrestling matches, which of course the humans always lose. Shiko and his kin are small but strong, far stronger than any human. It’s just some fun to pass the time.

But then one day, Shiko challenges a girl, and despite her thin, weak-looking limbs, she’s impossibly strong. He challenges her again and again, and every time she wins. Defeated, he gives her his Name. He can’t go back to the mountains, but he is still happy, even after the town fills with water. He only wishes she would use his name and summon him, maybe for another game. But she never does.

Takashi opens his eyes just as Shiko fades away. Back to the mountains, finally home again. It hurts that Takashi can’t go with him, can’t be him.

But Takashi is back again in his human body, with its thin, weak-looking limbs. And the bond between them is broken, leaving behind only another blank, bitten page, and the strange absence of something he didn’t know he had.

Another meeting, only to say goodbye.

He pushes himself up with shaky hands and picks up the Book again. The octopus yokai takes Shiko’s place and stares at him, expectant.

“One who would protect me, show me your Name.”

”Shinshin.“

All around him is a deep and impenetrable darkness.

It is cold, but the cold is part of him. It is the ocean.

Time passes as he drifts with the currents, the tides.

Sometimes he sees other beings, some even like himself. But he feels no desire, no hunger. He only exists.

But then the currents carry him up to the surface, to the rough waves of a storm. And something crashes towards him, huge and looming.

A ship, Takashi recognizes, in his small human awareness. A sailing ship, with full sails and lanterns and shouting humans.

Instinctively, he spreads himself out, bigger and bigger, until he is bigger than the startling thing. He wraps around it, swallows it whole and then—

Shrinks. Crushes the ship inside himself.

Takashi gasps back to himself, horrified. He clutches at his chest, stricken by the sensation of wood and human bodies pulverizing inside him.

And then he’s pulled down again, back into the memories.

As Shinshin, he feels nothing. He didn’t destroy the ship out of malice. He is a spirit of the vast and merciless ocean.

One day he drifts close to shore. There’s a girl swimming in the ocean. In his small form she looms over him, but when he starts to grow she punches him so hard he shrinks back down. He’s so small she can hold him in the palm of her hand.

She carries him from the ocean and drops him into a cup of water. After she takes his name, she keeps him for a while, then pours him into a street drain. But instead of going back to the ocean, he ends up lost and drifting. And then one day, the water he’s in pours into the dam.

The flood of memories ends, and Takashi groans, exhausted, distressed. Was it wrong to give back Shinshin’s Name? All those people on the ship— What if it happens again? Nyanko-sensei warned him there were dangerous yokai in the Book.

But it’s too late now. Shinshin fades away, freed to return to the ocean.

Takashi drags himself upright and looks warily at the wolf yokai. It shouldn’t matter if the yokai in the Book are nice to humans or not. It was cruel of Reiko to trap them in the Book and abandon them. It’s his duty as her only living descendant to let them go.

It’s the one thing only he can do. The one thing he’s good for. Saying goodbye.

His head spins as he summons the wolf’s page. He blows out the name, and lets the memories come.

”Tarusaru.”

He.

Is.

A.

Sakaki.

Tree.

Growing.

For.

Decades.

Centuries.

A thousand years.

Sacred, worshipped.

Stars turning overhead.

Roots deep and strong.

And then impossibly fast, he is—

Opened— Felled— Split apart— Releasing—

Himself. A wolf, powerful and fast, so fast—

He bites into the throat of the human whose axe chopped through his trunk. Tastes blood, metallic like the axe, but the felled human does not rise out of himself.

He tastes greed in the human’s blood. It felled a sacred tree to harvest the spirit within. A foul violation. But instead of eating, it was eaten.

And now he has been changed forever. He cannot go back to being a tree. So he changes further, from one who is guarded to one who guards. He protects the ancient spirits, powerful but so fragile.

After many years, he hears of a human girl who attacks spirits and takes their Names. He seeks her out to confront her, stop her. But she is sly as a kitsune, and he loses his Name to her, same as all the rest.

Memories blend into dreams. The vast emptiness of the ocean. The cutting wind of a mountaintop in winter. Still water weighing him down and down.

The absence of his Name is a wound inside him.

He is not called for. He will never be called for. He is bound in service but he only waits, unwanted, alone, alone.

Chapter Text

By the time Takashi comes back to himself, it’s morning and Tarusaru is long gone. He’s surprised to find himself tucked neatly into bed, instead of crumpled by the window. The Book is back in his waist pack.

It must have been Nyanko-Sensei.

Takashi carefully sits up. His body feels strange, which isn’t unusual after a Name return, and especially multiple Names. He reminds himself he’s a human boy, not a tree-wolf or an octopus or a shibaten. He has arms and legs, hands and feet, a body that can’t change its form. He’s only lived for fifteen years, not centuries. He has to go to school today.

Oh no. His math test.

He rubs his tired, aching head and groans. He shouldn’t have returned all those Names last night. Why did he do that? If he fails the test—

Then he remembers. Sasada.

Kaname.

He groans again.

Nyanko-sensei yawns and gives a big stretch. He sits up and licks his paw, then gives Takashi an unimpressed look.

“Don’t,” Takashi sighs.

“You’re the one who wanted to pace yourself,” Nyanko-sensei reminds him. “Pace yourself by keeping all my Names in my Book where they belong.”

Takashi refuses to dignify that with a response. He gets up and starts getting dressed. He tries to pull his six other legs out of his pajamas and ends up on the floor again.

Two legs. Two, not eight.

Nyanko-sensei gives a long suffering sigh.

Despite several more confused fumbles, Takashi manages to get ready and downstairs for breakfast. But when he starts eating, he’s overcome with the memory of swallowing a ship full of people.

“Takashi-kun?” Touko-san calls, concerned.

Takashi forces on a smile. “Sorry, I’m still full from last night. Everything was so delicious.”

Touko-san reaches over and feels his forehead. “No fever. Were you feeling sick last night? You did seem to take a turn.”

“No, not at all,” Takashi insists, a little desperately. “I’m fine, I promise.”

Touko-san doesn’t look convinced. “All right. But if you don’t feel well— We don’t want a relapse of that terrible fever.” She looks at him with such concern, then eases. “I’m sure you’ll get your appetite back soon. I’ll give you plenty of food for lunch.”

Takashi thanks her. It seems impossible to stop her from troubling herself on his behalf.

Another memory flashes through him, this time one of his own. When Touko-san visited him for the first time, appearing out of nowhere on a dark street. She was a complete stranger, but she spoke to him warmly, and worried over him.

She seemed to care about him even before they met.

The certainty he felt last night has faded. He’s never chosen to leave before. If he does, if he chooses to protect the Fujiwaras— Will she be happy?

She deserves to be happy. So does Shigeru-san. If he stays and Sasada reveals the truth to them, to everyone— Or if she takes the Book away, and he loses Nyanko-sensei— They’ll suffer, like everyone who’s ever had to take him in has suffered. He knows that.

Nyanko-sensei can only protect the Fujiwaras from yokai and other spirits. Human threats are Takashi’s responsibility. And he isn’t very good with humans.

Maybe he can still talk to Kousuke-san. Kousuke-san must be the one who deals with humans threats since he’s posing as Kaname’s human father. That must be why Kaname doesn’t understand why Sasada is so dangerous.

Takashi feels a pang of jealousy and pushes it away.

He thinks of Kousuke-san’s letter in his cardboard box. If he leaves, he won’t be able to help Kousuke-san protect Kaname anymore. Is there a chance they might leave Hitoyoshi with him, like Nyanko-sensei? No, he couldn’t possibly ask for that.

Leaving felt obvious last night. Necessary, urgent. But now all he sees are complications.

He’s just so confused.

He tries to push it all away. To enjoy his walk to school with Kitamoto and Nishimura, and focus on the teachers at school. But even though he refuses to look at her, he can feel Sasada watching him. It makes his heart race, makes him feel stalked. Sasada admitted to stalking him. Like the one-eyed yokai who tried to kidnap him. Like countless others who’ve followed him in the streets, watched him through windows, sometimes for weeks before making their move.

When it’s time for his math test, he’s so anxious it’s hard to focus on the paper in front of him. He feels dizzy and weak. But he refuses to let himself faint. It will only make the Fujiwaras worry again.

Sasada won’t do anything to him here. Not in class. He’s safe, he’s fine. He has to keep his grades up. If he wants to stay he has to keep his grades up.

He wants to stay.

He does. He just has to figure out how.

His heart finally slows. He can read the words and numbers on the test. His hands tremble, but he manages to answer all the questions, and he thinks he got most of them right.

The ordeal of the morning is so exhausting that when it’s time for lunch, all he can do is put down his head and sleep. His nap is a restless confusion of memories from last night’s Name returns. Nishimura wakes him up when class resumes, and gives him a worried look that’s far too similar to Touko-san’s.

Takashi feels a pang of hunger, but he still can’t bear to have anything in his stomach. He’ll be fine not eating until tomorrow, and hopefully by then the memories will have finished settling.

He missed seeing Kaname at lunch. But how can he face him? Last night was such a disaster. Kaname must be upset with him.

When school ends, Takashi rushes off immediately, not even bothering to give an excuse. He only stops to catch his breath once he’s alone.

Then he realizes he’s not alone. He startles, yelps, and turns to find—

“Tarusaru?” Takashi thought he was gone forever. Yokai don’t usually stick around after they get their Names back.

Takashi feels the strange absence he always feels after he returns a Name. The broken connection. How long will that take to fade?

“Natsume-dono,” Tarusaru greets, bowing. He’s holding a bottle of sake.

“Why are you here again? Is something wrong?” Takashi asks. It rained last night, did the dam already refill? Did he give back their Names too late?

“Not at all,” Tarusaru says. He seems to be in a good mood. “I came to invite you to our festival.”

“Festival?” Takashi asks, thinking of the upcoming hydrangea festival. “The dam didn’t refill last night?”

“Futaba Village is still dry,” Tarusaru says. “It lies where the border to the spirit world is thin. A great festival used to be held there every year, before it flooded. We wish to celebrate again, for one more time.” He holds up his sake in delight. “We shall dance, drink, and gamble! A night of carousing and frolicking! And you will be our guest of honor.”

“Me?” Takashi says, wary. He doesn’t like the idea of putting himself in the middle of a crowd of yokai, even if they are friendly.

“But you must,” Tarusaru insists, and leans closer. “You wish to return more Names, do you not? The festival will bring together many yokai. And even in the village, there are those who are too weak to leave. Who knows how many you can help?”

Yokai who are too weak to leave. If Takashi doesn’t go tonight, and the heavy rains finally arrive, then he might never get another chance to return those Names. Especially if he has to leave soon.

He doesn’t have a choice.

“All right,” Takashi says, mustering his determination. “I’ll go.”

“Go where?” Nyanko-sensei asks.

Takashi turns, surprised. His unreliable bodyguard actually showed up to walk him home.

“Futaba Village,” Takashi says, and explains about the festival and the potential to give back more Names.

Nyanko-sensei is not pleased. “You won’t be the guest of honor, you idiot! You’ll be an appetizer!”

“I don’t care about the festival,” Takashi says. “And I don’t want to be eaten. But I have to go there. If I don’t, those yokai might never get their Names back!”

And if that happens, Takashi knows how they’ll feel. He knows the suffering Reiko continues to cause long after her death, to so many beings. To be bound but never called for. To wait and wait, unwanted, alone, forever.

“Sensei, will you come with me?” Takashi asks.

Nyanko-sensei gives a frustrated growl. “Ugh, fine! But keeping you alive is such a pain!”

They start the long walk to Futaba Village. Nyanko-sensei, of course, refuses to carry him, and says that carrying his bodyguard is the least Takashi can do for all the trouble he’s causing.

By the time they arrive, the sun is getting low. As they approach the dam, Takashi can hear the sounds of the festival. When they reach the edge of the forest, they stop.

Futaba Village is split in half by what was once a small river. There are still many buildings on each side, and even a shrine. They’re all decaying, half-fallen, the wood rotted and muddy. Despite that, the festival is bright and lively, full of lanterns and decorations.

Tarusaru was right about how many yokai would be drawn to the festival. There’s already quite a crowd. But Takashi can’t just walk out there and ask all the yokai who are in the Book to form an orderly queue.

“You need a disguise,” Tarusaru says. “Wait here.”

He returns with a yukata, a white paper mask, a brush, and ink. He mixes a few drops of his own blood into the ink, then draws the character for ‘eye’ onto the mask.

“With these, no one will realize you’re human,” Tarusaru explains, as he helps Takashi dress. “But be careful. Don’t let the mask slip.”

“I thought he was the guest of honor?” Nyanko-sensei asks, suspicious.

“He is,” Tarusaru says. “But the time is not yet right to reveal him.” He turns to Takashi. “Travel freely. Enjoy the festival. We are no longer bound to each other, but you may call to me.”

“Thank you,” Takashi says, genuinely. He experienced Tarusaru’s memories. The wolf yokai is a powerful guardian, and clearly trustworthy. Nyanko-sensei is just annoyed about having to do his job instead of lazing around eating all day. Or maybe he’s jealous again, upset that Takashi found another spirit willing to protect him, if only for the night.

“Wait,” Takashi says, before Tarusaru leaves. “I was wondering. When the dam refills. Will you be staying here?”

“Everyone has something that’s hard to leave behind,” Tarusaru says. Then he walks out to join the crowd.

Hard to leave behind. Yes, Takashi understands that. Or at least he’s starting to.

“This is a bad idea,” Nyanko-sensei grumbles. “There are too many of them. It’ll be difficult to protect you.”

“You were happy to stand there and watch when I got mobbed at Yatsuhara,” Takashi grumbles back. It was back when they were investigating the mysterious exorcist who turned out to be Kousuke-san. His so-called bodyguard gleefully mocked him as dozens of yokai swarmed all over him, and Takashi had to punch his way free. Now he raises his fist. “If I have to, I’ll defend myself.”

Nyanko-sensei is not impressed by his bravado.

They enter the festival cautiously. Takashi peeks around his mask at the crowd, and it’s hard not to run back to the forest. He hasn’t been to a festival in years, because they always attract yokai. It’s too dangerous for him.

There are so many yokai here, their collective power is dizzying.

Or maybe it’s hunger making him dizzy. There are even food stalls here, offering grilled vegetables and meat, just like at a human festival. He thinks longingly of Touko-san’s bento, still uneaten in his bag. Maybe he can at least try to eat some of it.

He looks up at the darkening sky. He’s going to miss dinner with the Fujiwaras. He didn’t tell them he would be out tonight. They’re going to worry.

Maybe this was a mistake. But it’s too late now. He’s here and he has a job to do.

He reaches under his yukata and into his waist pack. The Book feels warm. It’s reacting to the presence of a bound spirit here, maybe more than one. But he can’t just walk up to random yokai and ask if they need their Names back.

There’s a commotion at one corner of the festival, and they follow the crowd to see what’s going on. There’s a whole bunch of yokai lined up in one end, and a bare tree on the other. Magical lights surround the tree, and at the very top is a yukata, fluttering gently in the evening breeze.

“What’s going on?” Takashi asks.

“It’s a race,” says an elegant-looking yokai in a pink kimono. She’s human-looking, except for the butterfly fixed over her right eye. “The first to touch the yukata without using their powers wins.”

Nyanko-sensei gives a surprised yelp. “You— Benio?!”

“You know her?” Takashi asks. Could she be in the Book? It doesn’t feel any warmer.

Benio frowns at them. “That voice,” she says, and frowns at Nyanko-sensei. Then her eyes widen. “Madara-sama?! What in the world?! You’ve been turned into a misshapen runt!”

Several yokai turn to look at them.

“Keep it down!” Nyanko-sensei tells her.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Benio mourns. “You were so beautiful. This is a tragedy!”

“I’m still beautiful,” Nyanko-sensei insists, insulted. “And anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Enjoying the festival, what else?” Benio says. She holds out a bottle of sake. “You look like you need a drink.”

“As a matter of fact—“

“Sensei!” Takashi chides. “Now is not the time!”

“Spoilsport,” Nyanko-sensei grumbles.

Benio frowns at them, suddenly suspicious. “The Madara I know would never refuse a drink. What’s going on?” She reaches for Takashi’s mask, and he startles back.

“Nothing!” Takashi says. “Sorry, we have to go. Enjoy the race!”

As he hurries away, the crowd roars as the race begins. Benio stares after them, then turns to cheer on the runners.

“Sensei,” Takashi says, once they’re safely away. “Is she dangerous? What do we do?”

“She’s just an old friend,” Nyanko-sensei says. “She used to follow a lord who was fond of humans. But I heard he went missing and his followers have turned hostile. I recognize some others from that group. We should finish and get out of here.”

“Agreed,” Takashi says. “The Book is reacting, but I can’t tell who its reacting too.”

“If the yokai are weak, it’ll be tough to find them,” Nyanko-sensei says.

“Let’s ask Tarusaru,” Takashi decides. He’s the one who knew about them, surely he can help.

They search up and down the festival, but they can’t find Tarusaru anywhere. So much for being able to call on him. But now that he has his Name back, Takashi has no claim on him. Not that he wanted one in the first place.

“Do you smell a human?” asks a nearby yokai. It sniffs the air, and looks in Takashi’s direction.

“Sensei,” Takashi whispers, anxious.

“Stay calm,” Nyanko-sensei says.

Takashi eyes the ruined shrine. Would it still be able to protect him if he went inside? Probably not. It’s just as abandoned as all the other buildings. Whatever bonds used to exist here, between gods and humans, the humans chose to break them.

He feels too many curious eyes on him. He has a very bad feeling about this place. Coming here was a mistake.

“We have to go,” Takashi decides. He regrets not being able to help the weak yokai here. He wants to give back their Names. But he also wants to stay alive.

“No kidding,” Nyanko-sensei says.

“Leaving so soon?”

Takashi turns, startled. It’s Tarusaru. And he’s not alone.

They’re surrounded by powerful yokai.

“This was a trap?” Takashi asks, betrayed. “But why?”

“The Book of Friends,” Tarusaru says, sending a stir through the watching crowd. “I can’t let you keep it.”

“I’m not like Reiko,” Takashi protests. “I’m giving the Names back. I gave you yours.”

“And for that I thank you,” Tarusaru says. “In return, it will be my honor to eat you.” He gestures, and the powerful yokai start to close in.

With an angry snarl, Nyanko-sensei poofs into his massive true form, somehow bigger than ever. He snaps at the yokai and drives them back. “I’ll make an opening,” he tells Takashi. “Run!”

Takashi tries. But the crowd has drawn around them, murmuring about the Book and Names and Reiko. And then Tarusaru changes form, becoming a huge brown wolf.

The two giant wolves leap at each other. They grapple and roll, nearly squashing Takashi and scattering the crowed as well as the threatening circle. Takashi takes the opening and runs as fast as he can.

Everyone knows who he is now. He pulls off his mask and looks back, and sees some of the powerful yokai following him, as well as random yokai from the crowd. Takashi’s heart pounds and his lungs burn as he runs with everything he has.

If he wants any chance of finding a working shrine, he has to go up, over the dam’s water line. But the sloping ground is soft and muddy, and he slips, slides backwards, and hands grab him.

He punches blindly and wildly, and manages to lay out the yokai who grabbed him. But more are coming, and he can’t get up the steep slope to the road. He could go back to Nyanko-sensei so they can fly out of here, or he could try the woods and escape the way they came in.

He chooses Nyanko-sensei. He knocks out more of his pursuers, then ducks behind a building. If he can stay hidden, weaving between the rotting structures, then he can get back to Nyanko-sensei and they can—

He staggers as his exhaustion catches up to him. He fights against it, refusing his body’s weakness. If he passes out now, he might never wake up.

But he gave back three Names last night. He hasn’t eaten all day. He walked for hours to get here, and then had to run and fight for his life. The edges of his vision are already turning black.

No. It’s not his vision.

A black shadow falls over him. Wraps around him and pulls him down.

He falls.

And then, to his surprise, he wakes up.

He’s not sure how long he was out. He’s inside a dark building and the air is thick with mildew. He hears urgent voices outside, and lantern light flickers through the dirty, tattered screens.

He’s not alone. And the Book is hot against his back.

“Natsume-sama,” says a soft, hushed voice. It seems to come out of the shadows themselves. Somehow he recognizes it.

“Sekkou?” Takashi whispers. The kage-onna whose name he returned. The shadow woman. “You saved me?”

The Book can’t be reacting to her. He already gave back her Name. So why—

And then he sees them. A half-dozen yokai in the shadows with him.

“Help them,” Sekkou pleads. He can feel her desire to protect these yokai, to shelter them, the way she’s sheltered so many.

“I have your Names?” Takashi asks them.

The yokai all nod.

This is what Takashi came here for. This is his chance. But if he returns even one Name right now, whatever protection Sekkou is giving him with won’t be enough.

“I can’t, not here,” Takashi admits. “And once I leave, I don’t think I can come back. Can you come with me?”

The yokai look at each other. They seem to come to a decision. And then—

When Takashi opens his eyes, he sees his bedroom ceiling. He tries to sit up, confused, and immediately regrets it.

“Stay still,” says a familiar voice. Not Sekkou.

It’s Benio.

“You saved me?” Takashi asks, his voice weak from exhaustion. He thought she hates humans. “Sensei, where’s—“

Benio gestures, and Takashi sees Nyanko-sensei resting beside him, back in his cat form. His fur is dirty and scruffed, but he looks intact.

“He insisted on finding you and bringing you here,” Benio says. “I don’t know why my friend is helping Natsume Reiko’s grandson. I’d prefer to have you as a snack myself. But I owed Madara for an old favor.”

“Thank you,” Takashi says, grateful. “What about— Tarusaru—“

“He won’t bother you again,” Benio says. She gives him a curious look. “Do you know there’s something haunting you?”

There’s a knock on his bedroom door. Takashi goes very still.

The door slides open. “Takashi?”

Shigeru-san turns on the light, and immediately looks alarmed. But it can’t be because of Benio because he can’t see her. Takashi looks down at himself and sees that he’s still wearing Tarusaru’s gifted yukata, though it’s now in tatters. He’s covered in mud and dried blood. Underneath are claw marks and bruises.

“Takashi!” Shigeru-san says, rushing over. “When did you get home? What happened to you?!”

Takashi sits bolt upright and desperately tries to think of an excuse. He looks at Nyanko-sensei, also dirty and hurt. “I— I’m sorry. I was— I went for a walk with Nyanko-sensei. In the woods. He got lost. I— There was mud. I fell. I’m sorry. We’re all right now!”

Shigeru-san does not look remotely convinced. But he doesn’t argue, doesn’t yell. “Let’s get you both cleaned up. Can you stand? I’ll get the first aid kit.”

“Takashi-kun?” Touko-san says, appearing in the doorway. She gasps in distress.

“You’re an interesting human,” Benio says. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.” And then she turns into a butterfly and flies out the window.

Chapter Text

When Takashi gets injured by yokai, he always deals with it himself. He has his own first aid kit, packed to the brim. Over the years, he’s learned how to mend the rips in his clothes and remove stains from blood and dirt. He can treat his own bruised ribs and sprained ankles. He can keep going to school no matter how bad he feels, even with a fever.

Whatever it takes, so he can avoid troubling the people he lives with. So he can stay a little longer.

But tonight, he failed on every level. He dragged Nyanko-sensei into danger, missed dinner, almost got them both killed, and failed to give back any more Names. And then to top it all off, the Fujiwaras found him before he could clean himself up.

He knows they’ve seen him naked. He remembers, vaguely, that they bathed him during his fever. But he’s awake now, and acutely aware of every fresh injury and old scar.

He heals well, he always has. But even his well-healed scars have earned him concerned looks. Only some of what the Fujiwaras are seeing must be new to them. But the somber look in their eyes is hard to face.

He didn’t realize, when he was running and fighting for his life, how badly he was getting hurt. It’s obvious he wasn’t just scratched up by some tree branches, or bruised by a tumble. If it was any worse, they’d have to take him to the hospital. He’ll probably have to stay home from school tomorrow.

He’s too tired for this. He doesn’t have the energy to pretend or lie, or even to worry. He can barely keep his eyes open. He’s nodded off a few times, and blinked awake to find Shigeru-san holding him upright.

“We’re almost done,” Shigeru-san says, voice gentle but strained.

Touko-san took care of Nyanko-sensei, too, washing him clean. She checked him for wounds but couldn’t find any, so she wrapped him up in a fluffy towel.

She takes away Takashi’s torn and bloodied clothes. Shigeru-san helps him into his pajamas.

“You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to,” Shigeru-san says, his voice still so gentle. “But please know that whatever you tell us, we won’t be upset.”

Takashi wishes that were true.

Shigeru-san unrolls the futon for him, and helps him into bed. Takashi falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.

When he wakes the next morning, he hurts all over and he has a mild fever. He’s surprised it isn’t worse. Nyanko-sensei sleeps through the breakfast Touko-san brings them, but Takashi is relieved to be able to eat again. Touko-san gives him medicine that he knows won’t help. He thinks about the shrine in Yatsuhara, but he’s too sore and tired to move. He goes back to sleep.

He wakes to the sound of rain against the windows, and a weight on his chest. When he opens his eyes, Nyanko-sensei is awake, perched on his chest and staring at him.

“You idiot,” Nyanko-sensei says. “What did you do?”

Takashi just blinks at him, confused.

“You absolutely reek of yokai,” Nyanko-sensei says. “If it was from yesterday it should have faded. There’s something inside you.”

Takashi thinks of Benio saying he’s haunted. And then he realizes.

“Oh!” He pushes Nyanko-sensei off and sits up. “I found them. The yokai who need their Names back.” He presses his hand against his chest. They possessed him? “They were too weak to leave on their own. But how do we get them out?”

“That’s easy,” Nyanko-sensei says, eagerly. “I’ll exorcise you. Just sit up straight and clench your teeth.”

Takashi does what he says and closes his eyes, expecting Nyanko-sensei to use his purifying light. Instead, the cat leaps up and headbutts him hard.

Takashi ends up flat on his back again, clutching his head. But as the pain fades, he realizes it worked.

The half-dozen yokai from Sekkou’s house are scattered around him on the floor.

“Unbelievable,” Nyanko-sensei grumbles. “He’s my prey! If you fools try anything else I’ll eat you!!”

Takashi should probably defend the Nameless yokai, even though he didn’t realize their way of hitching a ride was to go inside him. Right now he doesn’t mind Nyanko-sensei being a little overprotective. Would he have agreed to it if they asked? Maybe, he needed some way to get them here, but— He feels invaded.

What’s done is done. He can give back their Names now. Six is a lot to return at once, even if the yokai are all fairly weak, and he already feels awful. Maybe he should space them out, like he tried to do with the others. If he does them all now, he’ll be knocked out for hours.

If he’s asleep, he doesn’t have to face the Fujiwaras.

“Let me get ready,” he tells them. He eats and drinks the food Touko-san left on a tray for him, then goes to the toilet, getting his physical needs over with. Then he gets back into bed and takes out the Book.

This is why he went with Tarusaru in the first place.

He thought he knew who Tarusaru was, that the memories he got from the wolf yokai were enough. Tarusaru did kill the human who cut down his tree, but that was self-defense. He’s a protector, a guardian. He even has a true form like Nyanko-sensei’s.

But he’s not a protector of humans. Unlike the other yokai in the Book, he sought Reiko out, intending to stop her. When Takashi gave him a second chance, he must have wanted to be sure of his success. And it was so easy to lure Takashi into a trap. He probably didn’t even have to look into Takashi’s soul to know what he wanted.

Takashi might be full of yokai memories. He might not belong in the human world, and only have a purpose in the spirit world. But from Tarusaru’s perspective, his humanity is all that matters.

Nyanko-sensei’s right. Takashi is an idiot. But at least now he can help these six yokai. He can free them.

The six yokai gather together, and then one steps forward. It’s roughly humanoid, with a squat and almost spherical body, and a single eye in the center of its chest.

“One who would protect me, show me your Name.”

”Kodaki.“

It’s born on a potter’s wheel, a lump of raw clay shaped by human hands. The heat of the kiln bakes it twice, making its simple glaze shine.

It’s bought and taken to its new home. There it is filled with water, emptied, filled, emptied, over and over for decades, by many hands.

Gradually, from the long use and care of its humans, it becomes aware that it is a water jug. That it has a simple but important purpose. It is relied upon and brings a kind of happiness to its humans. It belongs with them, helps them.

It’s happy. That happiness fills it with kami as the well fills it with water. It becomes a yokai, with a Name, and with its new strength it’s able to keep itself magically full for a little longer. The humans favor it more, call it auspicious. They fill it with sake for a celebration, and the jug overflows with joy.

Kodaki. Little waterfall.

But then the humans start to move away. It doesn’t know why. Then there is only one human left, old and with trembling hands. And one day, the human drops it.

It doesn’t break completely. It can still hold water. But it can only ever be half-full now, even though it has enough kami to never empty.

It stays with its last human until the end. It weeps from the crack in its body, grieving.

And then a girl visits the empty house, exploring. It hopes she will be its new human. It gives her its Name, eager to make her happy.

But she puts it down and walks away, and it never sees her again. And then the water comes. And what use is a jug of water at the bottom of a lake?

Takashi opens his eyes and sits up. “You don’t want to go back to the village?”

Kodaki shakes its round body. It can’t talk, but through the lingering connection between them, he can feel that it’s ready to leave. To find a new home, and humans who will love it again, even though it’s cracked.

Takashi hopes it can.

He wipes his eyes as the next yokai steps up. It has a humanoid body and a tattered paper umbrella for a head.

“One who would protect me, show me your Name.”

”Ookaze.”

When it comes into existence, it has a vague memory of the forest. But it is formed and made with human hands, pieces of wood and paper shaped and painted and fixed together.

It basks in the sun and the rain. It’s held tight against strong wind. And when it’s resting, folded, it’s carried everywhere by its human. It travels many places, and loves the bustle and noise of crowds.

It protects its human, and in return the human is grateful. Cares for it and keeps it safe, and slowly fills it with kami.

Its paper tears, but the human has it mended. It is loved. It is Ookaze, its name born of the strong wind that makes its human hold it close.

But then its paper tears again, again. Even as it comes alive, the material it’s made of is decaying, dying. When it cannot protect its human anymore, it’s put in a closet and left there.

It’s abandoned just when it’s able to love its human most.

And then the closet door no longer opens, not for anything inside it. The house remains dark and quiet.

When the closet door opens again, it reveals a new human. A girl. It would be so happy to shield her from the sun and rain. It would love her until every last piece of paper and wood fell to dust.

She takes its Name. She puts it back in the closet and walks away.

Takashi sits up again, fighting dizziness and heartache.

Ookaze goes to the window and opens it. Its humanoid body fades away, leaving only the tattered umbrella. It catches the wind and disappears into the night sky.

Kodaki seems to have waited for Ookaze. Once the umbrella yokai leaves, it leaves too, becoming specks of light that float away.

Two of the remaining yokai step forward together. One looks like a boy, only a little younger than Takashi, with a bright red face. The other looks like a normal owl, perched on the boy’s arm, except for the usual yukata.

“Will you return our names together?” asks the red-faced boy. “They were taken together.”

Takashi did return two names together once before. The pages for Tsuyukami and Susugi were stuck together with a grain of rice. But do they mean that both their Names are on one page?

“Ones who would protect me, show me your Names.”

Takashi holds the images of both yokai in his mind as he summons their Names. And indeed both Names were written on one page. He tears it out and blows out the ink, and the black ink swirls in the air before separating and diving into two foreheads.

”Mimei. Iyashi.”

Iyashi is a floating red lantern. It knows only that it is drawn to the pain and grief of humans. There is something in it that needs what was lost to be noticed, remembered.

Mimei is a human. Or she will be, once she’s born from her mother’s womb. She feels the love of her mother, her father, her whole family. They’re all waiting for her. They sing to her, sweet and gentle. They stroke her through her mother’s belly.

But something goes wrong. She never takes her first breath.

She is buried just outside the home she was meant to grow up in. Outside the family that was meant to love her. Her soul drifts there, unable to leave. An owl perches on a nearby branch, and she enters it, becomes one with it.

She has a body now, and wings. But still she cannot leave the place that was meant to be her home. She grieves for what she lost. She knows no other way to be.

And then she sees the red lantern.

At first, Iyashi is drawn to the mourning of the house. There is much grief here. But the pain is seen by everyone. It doesn’t need a lantern to reveal it.

And then it feels the grief of the soul within the owl.

For the first time, Iyashi wants to do more than reveal. It wants to soothe this soul, help it, guide it away from its pain.

But Mimei isn’t ready to leave. Isn’t ready to let go of her grief. It’s all she has.

All Iyashi can do is stay with her. So it stays.

The family that Mimei was meant to have ages and dies. And still they stay.

Another family moves in, then they leave, and another family arrives. And still Mimei and Iyashi stay.

And then a girl is out walking at night, and sees the red light in the tree, sees the owl. And she offers to play a game with both of them. And Iyashi thinks, hopes, that maybe this girl can offer Mimei something other than grief. Maybe a game will bring her happiness, and they can finally move on together.

But instead of gaining happiness, they lose their Names. Now all they can do is wait, even as the waters rise around them.

Takashi’s eyes are filled with tears when he opens them. They spill out like Kodaki’s water.

Reiko meant something to all these yokai. She gave them hope for new beginnings. But every time, she walked away. Abandoned them, even though they would have loved her, or at least helped her feel less alone. The way Iyashi helped Mimei.

“I’m sorry,” he tells them, his whole chest filled with their grief.

Iyashi only bows his red face. He strokes Mimei’s feathers and then pulls her close. And then they both dissolve into light and disappear. They’re finally moving on.

Takashi pushes himself up and looks at the two remaining yokai. A fox and a bird, at least from their outwards appearances. He hopes they’re like Santo or Arasaki, nature spirits who lived uncomplicated lives away from humans. But something tells him he won’t be so lucky.

He feels close to passing out, but he has to do this. It’s only two more. And then he can rest.

The fox yokai steps forward. Takashi picks up the book and holds it open.

“One who would protect me, show me your Name.”

”Miko.”

Miko is not a human, but she lives her life in the shape of one.

She is born a mortal fox. At the end of her natural life, she pledges herself to Inari, the god of rice. In exchange for her service, she is given a pearl amulet that holds her magical soul.

She settles happily into life as a shrine maiden. For as long as Futaba shrine exists, she is pledged to protect it and the village around it. She uses her shapeshifting powers to blend in with the humans, to appear to age and then become her own replacements.

And then a strange girl comes, with slit eyes and red hair. At first Miko mistakes her for another kitsune. Agrees to play a game with her, indulging in the mischief she loved as a cub.

But the girl is genuinely human, and genuinely powerful. Miko loses her Name.

Perhaps she should have lost her pearl instead. If she died, Inari would have surely sent a replacement to her shrine. But no replacement comes.

From Miko’s weakness, the village weakens. The humans dwindle. The shrine can no longer protect them.

When the water comes, Miko stays. Her shame is even heavier than the lake above her.

Takashi struggles against a heavy weight on his chest. But when he forces open his eyes, there’s nothing over him. The weight is Miko’s anger: at herself, at Reiko. It came in with the memories, and still pours into him through their lingering connection.

She might be weaker than she used to be, but it was only her shame that trapped her. She’s still so powerful that her Name return took everything he had left.

“I told you not to try anything!” Nyanko-sensei yells, fur raised.

Miko’s anger retreats, and she bows her head. “I’m sorry, Reiko’s grandson. I know your kindness. Thank you for freeing me.”

She won’t go back to Futaba. He knows that much. But she feels so lost and alone. What will happen to her?

Was it really all Reiko’s fault? What should he do if it was?

Miko shifts, changing her appearance to a mortal fox, except for the amulet around her neck. She leaps out the window and she’s gone.

All that’s left is the bird. This yokai also appears female, and wears a beaked mask over her face. Takashi tries so hard to sit up, to muster the strength to give her back her Name, to finally be done with Futaba Village. But his eyes won’t stay open.

He holds the Book close. He feels so weak and empty. But full too, overflowing with grief and shame and loneliness. It feels like it could pour out of him forever and he would never empty. It would only fill everything around him and form a great reservoir, and trap him at the bottom.

For now, he lets himself drown.

Chapter Text

Their wonderful dinner at the Fujiwaras ends with a sudden turn. Everything seemed fine when Takashi and Kaname went to sit outside. Both boys were calm and happy. But when Takashi comes back in, he’s plastered on a smile and slipped into a politeness so formal it’s somehow both submissive and threatening.

Like a cornered animal baring its teeth.

The last thing Kousuke wants to do is make Takashi feel unsafe. So he thanks the Fujiwaras for the lovely evening and escorts a baffled Kaname out to their car.

The whole way home, Kaname stares out the window, verging on an outright sulk. But Kousuke can see his son is simply hurt. Confused by Takashi’s sudden change, and with no idea how to respond to it.

In a kinder world, Takashi would be the first child Kousuke ever met who behaved this way. In a kinder world, Takashi wouldn’t be in such distress.

But in this world, they have to figure out what caused his distress, and how to address it.

“He’s worried about Sasada,” Kaname answers. “I get why. But he didn’t want to even try to talk to her. And now he’s mad at me too.”

He asks Kaname to tell him more about Sasada, and he does. A girl in Takashi’s class who was trying to help a spirit, and forced Takashi into a dangerous situation. Threatened and manipulated him. But she was driven by intense grief. She’s getting help and her remorse is genuine. And now she and Kaname have a budding friendship of their own.

“What should I do?” Kaname asks, distressed. “If it’s too upsetting for him— Does that mean I can’t be friends with Sasada anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Kousuke admits. “It’s a difficult situation. Takashi has the right to not forgive Sasada. It must be very stressful for him, sharing his classes with her every day.”

“I don’t know if it’s about forgiveness,” Kaname says. “He’s afraid of her. Really afraid. But even if she does tell everyone he can see spirits— Half the school already thinks that. That’s how she found out about him in the first place.”

“Your friendship with her is important to you,” Kousuke observes. He wonders if perhaps there might be some romantic feelings driving this. He’s been waiting for Kaname to show interest in someone, but his son has been so isolated from his peers.

“I guess it is,” Kaname admits. “It’s kinda lonely here. Just us and not— I mean it’s really nice, it’s beautiful here and I can’t believe we found Takashi and Ponta. But it’s—“

Kousuke understands. There are other temples in the area, and shrines. There is a religious community, and he’s found it welcoming. But Yatsuhara isn’t full of devotees living and working together in one space, with a shared identity and purpose.

That absence was a choice Kousuke made for Kaname’s sake. Kaname had long decided to not become a monk, but he wasn’t following that choice. It felt necessary to force Kaname to engage with the secular world and his peers. And it does seem to be working.

But the secular world is complicated and messy, very different from the ordered calm of a monastery.

“Do you genuinely feel you can trust Sasada?” Kousuke asks.

“Yes,” Kaname says, certain.

“Then don’t abandon your friendship with her,” Kousuke says. “But you may need to take a step back and work things out with Takashi first.”

“I’m trying,” Kaname says, his frustration leaking out. “But he’s just so—“ He gestures wordlessly.

“Yes,” Kousuke agrees. “You know, for someone to become a monk, it’s a very intense process. Physically, mentally. It takes patience, self-understanding—”

“I know,” Kaname says, with the annoyance of someone who very seriously did want to be a monk, until he didn’t.

“Takashi isn’t a monk,” Kousuke continues. “He’s a very different kind of person. You have to set aside your expectations. To be friends with him, you must see him clearly, and accept him as he is.”

“But he won’t talk to me,” Kaname says, definitely pouting now.

“I don’t think he knows how to talk,” Kousuke says. He’s trying to give the two boys space, to let their friendship grow at its own pace. But the gap between them needs some bridging. “I think all of this is new to him. Having a home and people he can trust. And new things can be frightening and painful, even when they’re good.”

Kaname visibly considers that. “Do you think he’s scared of me, too?”

“Maybe,” Kousuke says. But he knows Takashi must be always scared all the time, even with Kaname. “Will you let that stop you from offering your friendship to him?”

“No,” Kaname says, and then looks determined. “It won’t.”

“Good,” Kousuke says. “He was very upset just now. Give him some time to calm down. But keep showing him that you’re his friend. Make your feelings clear. If he wants your friendship, and I’m sure he does, he’ll reach back.”

“I will,” Kaname says. He hugs Kousuke. “Thanks, Dad.”

Kousuke hugs him back. He’s so proud of his son.

The next day, Kousuke hopes that Kaname will get to patch things up with Takashi. But when Kaname comes home from school, he’s even more worried.

“He didn’t come to lunch,” Kaname tells him. “Nishimura and Kitamoto said he was exhausted. He slept through lunch and didn’t eat anything. They said Natsume’s always quiet but this was the bad kind of quiet.”

“Did you get to see him at all?” Kousuke asks.

Kaname shakes his head. “He took off after school like he was being chased. We went to his house but he wasn’t there.”

Kousuke is impressed with how much all of Takashi’s friends genuinely care about him. Nishimura and Kitamoto don’t even have a connection to the spirit world. But they keep pushing past Takashi’s defenses anyway. They’re good role models for Kaname.

But Takashi’s behavior is worrying. “What about Sasada?”

“Nothing happened in class,” Kaname says. He groans. “This is my fault. He must still be really upset from yesterday.”

“Was Nyanko-sensei there, when you stopped by his house?”

“I don’t know,” Kaname says. “I didn’t see him.”

“They must be together,” Kousuke decides. “That’s good. Wherever they are, Takashi is safe with him.” He hopes. “Let’s save some worrying for when we truly need it.”

Kaname doesn’t look convinced. Frankly, Kousuke isn’t convinced either.

When Shigeru calls that evening, their worry only grows.

“No, he’s not here,” Kousuke tells him. “Kaname hasn’t seen him since school.”

Shigeru gives a worried hum. “May I speak to Kaname?”

Kousuke hands the phone receiver over.

Kaname listens. “I wish I knew. He seemed kinda upset.” He glances outside. It’s getting dark. “Do you think— Should we look for him?”

Going out at night is dangerous for Kaname. But Kousuke knows his son would risk a migraine if it meant saving Takashi from something worse.

“Okay,” Kaname says, sounding disappointed. He hangs up. “He said sometimes Takashi comes back late. But if he’s not back by morning—“ He shakes his head. “What if he’s out helping another yokai? What if he gets hurt again?”

“All that is very possible,” Kousuke admits. He’s been wondering if Takashi is seeking out spirits to help, or if they seek him out. So far it appears to be the latter. Does he have the choice to refuse them?

That night, they pray together for Takashi’s protection and safe return.

In the morning, Kousuke calls the Fujiwaras to see if there’s any news.

“Yes,” Shigeru says, sounding both relieved and even more worried. “Takashi’s home. He won’t be at school today. He’s—“

Kousuke waits.

“I’ll stop by on the way to work,” Shigeru says, and hangs up before Kousuke can respond.

It’s not a good sign.

Kousuke almost has to drive Kaname to school to stop him from walking over to the Fujiwaras to see Takashi himself. Kousuke promises that if the situation warrants it, he’ll pull Kaname out of class. He says Takashi must need to rest, and Kaname can see him after school.

Kousuke doubts that Kaname will be able to focus on any of his studies today. But he’ll have the support of his friends. And Kousuke will have the school day to get a handle on whatever’s going on.

When Shigeru arrives at Yatsuhara, his expression is both determined and scared. Kousuke brings him inside and sits him down with a cup of tea.

“Takashi came back late last night,” Shigeru says. “It’s not unusual for him to stay out late. We ask that he come home for dinner, but when it happens— I encourage Touko not to worry. Takashi can be too considerate of us. Being too considerate of each other isn’t being a family. However—“

He looks down at his tea.

“He must have climbed into his bedroom through the window,” Shigeru continues. “He was— Exhausted, covered in mud. Injured. Bruises, terrible scratches, like—“ He makes a claw with one hand, flexes it. “The stories I heard from our relatives. The hospital records. His scars. I thought perhaps— He was being hurt by someone. The people who were supposed to be caring for him. Bullies at school. Maybe himself.”

He looks up, faces Kousuke.

“He isn’t being hurt by anyone at school here. I was very clear with the principal and teachers, I won’t tolerate any bullying. He is clumsy, Touko and I have seen that. But the injuries he came home with last night can’t be explained by clumsiness. Some of them— I don’t know what’s worse. That he’s so determined to hurt himself. Or that someone is stalking him. That they’ve been following him and hurting him for— I don’t know how long. Please tell me. Has he said anything to you?”

Kousuke worried it might come to this, but he didn’t expect it to be so soon.

“He has,” Kousuke says, as he weighs every option carefully.

“Thank god,” Shigeru says, slumping with relief. “I know you don’t want to betray his confidence. But I’m afraid for him. Touko and I are both very afraid.”

“I understand,” Kousuke soothes. “Thank you for reaching out. I want to help as much as I can.”

“If you can’t tell me, then— Could you come talk to him?” Shigeru asks. “I’m afraid if we push him— There was— An incident. Just before we brought him here. A fall from a cliff. They called it an accident, but—“

“A fall? What happened?”

“That’s really all we know,” Shigeru admits. “He went out to a nearby park in the middle of the night. It was luck that someone found him.”

“And the people he was living with?”

“They said he did it just to spite them.” Shigeru shakes his head. “You said— Your guidance— Is it really just bad luck?”

“It’s complicated,” Kousuke admits. “I’m still trying to get a full understanding myself. I believe it’s something that can be managed. I don’t believe Takashi is trying to harm himself.”

It’s not much, but it does seem to ease Shigeru’s fears. Or at least guide him away from the worst.

Not that ‘your son is being stalked and attacked by spirits’ is something any parent wants to hear. But if Kaname was in danger of taking his own life? An external threat is more bearable than an internal one. Even when the external threat is invisible and intangible, except for the suffering it causes.

“Go to work,” Kousuke tells him. “I’ll talk to him. He may open up to me about what happened.”

“Thank you,” Shigeru says, grateful. “And if you can— Could you talk to Touko? She’s trying not to show it, for Takashi’s sake. But she’s very upset.”

“I will,” Kousuke promises. “I’ll help all of you however I can.”

“Thank you,” Shigeru says again. He seems on the verge of tears, both of fear and relief. But he gathers himself and heads out.

Kousuke doesn’t rush over to the Fujiwaras right away. Takashi had a difficult night and must need some extra rest. But lunchtime is as long as he’s willing to wait.

When Touko answers the door, he can see how relieved she is to see him. “Please, come in.”

“How’s Takashi?” Kousuke asks.

“Resting,” Touko says. “I was just about to bring him lunch.”

“Let me give you a hand,” Kousuke says.

He takes the lunch tray from the kitchen and follows Touko upstairs. She knocks gently on Takashi’s bedroom door, but there’s no answer. She peeks inside.

“He’s still asleep,” Touko whispers. “Oh, but he ate all his breakfast,” she says, relieved.

They go inside to exchange the trays. They kneel down beside Takashi. Nyanko-sensei is perched on Takashi’s desk, eyes watchful.

“Takashi-kun?” Touko calls. She gives his arm a gentle shake, but Takashi doesn’t stir. “Oh dear,” she frets and touches his forehead. “He seemed all right earlier.”

“Another fever?” Kousuke asks. Takashi’s cheeks are tinged pink.

“He’s a little warm.”

“May I?” Kousuke asks. With Touko’s approval, he checks Takashi over. He is warm, but it isn’t the raging heat of his previous fever. His pulse is steady. When Kousuke pulls open one eye, he doesn’t see any strange reactions, but it’s clear Takashi is fully unconscious.

Kousuke notes the dark bruises and bandages not covered by Takashi’s pajamas. There’s no doubt he was attacked. His knuckles are damaged. He had to fight to escape?

Something very dangerous happened last night. Something even Nyanko-sensei struggled with? Kousuke can’t ask him anything with Touko in the room.

“He must be very tired,” Kousuke tells her. “Sleep is the best thing for him. Rest will help him heal.”

“Yes,” Touko says, but she doesn’t look any less worried.

“May I have a moment alone?” Kousuke asks. “I’d like to pray for him. And then we can talk downstairs?”

“Yes,” Touko says again. She picks up the breakfast tray and takes it downstairs.

Kousuke does pray for Takashi, for his healing and swift recovery. Takashi’s face is lax with sleep, but Kousuke can just make out dried tear tracks on his cheeks. So many tears.

He has to help this boy.

“What happened?” Kousuke asks, quietly. When Nyanko-sensei doesn’t answer, he tries again. “Is Takashi safe? Does he need to be in a shrine?”

“The idiot just wore himself out,” Nyanko-sensei says. “He’ll be fine.”

“He doesn’t look fine,” Kousuke says.

Nyanko-sensei seems offended by that. But right now Kousuke doesn’t care. He thought the spirit was Takashi’s protector.

“How could you let this happen?” Kousuke asks, with quiet anger.

Nyanko-sensei glares back at him.

“I’m going to speak with Touko,” Kousuke tells him. “After that, please meet me outside.”

He goes back down to the kitchen. This time he’s the one served tea.

“You spoke with Shigeru?” Touko asks.

Kousuke nods. “I’d like to speak to Takashi when he’s awake. I believe he’ll talk to me about what happened.”

“Thank goodness,” Touko says. She looks at him with feeling. “Thank you, Kousuke-san. I’ve been so worried. I wish he would to talk to us. I’m so grateful for you and Kaname-kun, you’ve both helped him so much already.”

“I hope we can do more,” Kousuke says. “Is there anything you can tell me about last night?” If Nyanko-sensei doesn’t want to tell him—

“There is one thing,” Touko says. She gets up and brings over a yukata. “Takashi-kun was wearing it over his uniform. I cleaned it, but, well—“

Kousuke inspects it. The yukata is obviously ruined, torn open by claws in many places. But it’s finely made, with a delicate pattern. It looks expensive. “It’s not his?”

“I’ve never seen it before.”

Kousuke has no ability to perceive the spirit world himself. But Kaname might be able to sense something. “Could I borrow this? I’d like to take a closer look at it.”

“Of course,” Touko says.

He sets the yukata aside. He looks at Touko. He can see she had a sleepless night. She must have struggled, asking herself if she could have prevented this, if she was doing something wrong, if she was even meant to be a parent.

Kousuke has had the same kind of sleepless nights, the same fears and questions.

“There’s nothing easy about raising a child,” he tells her. “Even when you hold them in your arms from the moment they’re born. Our best will never be enough to protect them the way we want to.”

Touko’s chin trembles. “Takashi-kun deserves better than this.”

“He does,” Kousuke agrees. “He’s deserved better for a very long time. You and Shigeru have already done so much for him.”

“I just want him to be happy,” Touko says, her voice trembling. “To have only good things.” She gives a wet laugh. “I know it’s unreasonable. But I want to be unreasonable for him.”

“That’s what makes you his mother,” Kousuke says. “Not blood or a piece of paper.”

Touko wipes at her eyes. “I don’t know if he’ll ever see us that way. As his family. We want him to feel safe here. To know this is his home.”

“Have you told him?”

“In every way we can,” Touko says. “But sometimes he feels so far away. Like his heart isn’t here.” She wipes her eyes again. “The first time I saw him, I knew he was a good boy. But he was cold, out at night all alone. I know we have to be patient. That little by little— But when he comes home cold and hurt—“

“I know,” Kousuke says, with great understanding.

“I’m sorry,” Touko says, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to— I barely slept last night. I’m not myself today.”

“Takashi’s resting,” Kousuke says. “Perhaps you should rest, too.”

“Yes,” Touko says. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to talk to him. We’ll call you when he’s awake?”

“I’ll come right over,” Kousuke promises.

“Thank you,” Touko says, heartfelt.

When he steps outside, Kousuke takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly.

He meets Nyanko-sensei on the low wall just out of view of the house.

“If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have come back at all,” Nyanko-sensei says, clearly offended.

“I’m sorry,” Kousuke says. “I spoke in anger.”

Nyanko-sensei does not look appeased. “You try talking that stubborn idiot out of anything. I don’t have to be doing all this work. I could be relaxing on the mountainside, taking naps and drinking sake.”

“But you aren’t,” Kousuke points out. “You care about him.”

“He’s my future snack!” Nyanko-sensei says, utterly insulted.

“You’re going to eat him?” Kousuke asks, horrified.

Nyanko-sensei harumphs. “Now he’s got me doing it,” he mutters to himself. “I told you, the spirit world is no place for humans,” he says aloud.

“You didn’t say he might be eaten!” Kousuke says, quite taken aback.

“Well that’s how it is,” Nyanko-sensei tells him. “He doesn’t care. Why should you?”

Kousuke can’t believe they’re arguing about this. “In the human world, we get upset about our children being eaten.”

“Why bother?” Nyanko-sensei sneers. “Your lives are pathetically short anyway.”

“Yes, they are,” Kousuke agrees. “I don’t believe that Takashi doesn’t care if he’s eaten. Didn’t he fight to stay alive?”

He internally shudders at the image of some creature trying to swallow Takashi whole, and Takashi desperately punching his way free. How close is that horrible image to the truth?

The spirit world is even more dangerous than he thought. Is he wrong to think he can make Hitoyoshi safe for Kaname and Takashi?

Even if he is, he has to try.

“If he had any sense,” Nyanko-sensei complains, “he wouldn’t have been there in the first place!”

“Where did he go?” Kousuke presses.

“None of your business.”

“Takashi’s well-being is my business,” Kousuke says, certain. “His parents and friends are all extremely worried about him. And I think you are, too.”

Nyanko-sensei hisses in protest.

“Whatever your reasons for protecting him,” Kousuke says. “You can’t spend every day with someone, watching over them, saving their life, and not start to care about them.”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” Nyanko-sensei challenges.

“Then look me in the eye and tell me how happy you’ll be when he dies,” Kousuke challenges.

“I’ll be ecstatic,” Nyanko-sensei says, through gritted teeth. Then he looks away, reluctantly distressed.

Some fear in Kousuke relaxes.

“I want to save his life,” Kousuke tells him. “Same as you. We can work together, like we did at Yatsuhara, with the barrier.”

“Ridiculous,” Nyanko-sensei scoffs. He looks away, closing his eyes in disdain. Then he peeks open one eye and looks back. “What, not going to try to bribe me into it?”

So it’s down to negotiations now. Good. “Extra dango?”

Nyanko-sensei hisses again. “How insulting!!”

Kousuke probably shouldn’t tease his best ally. He thinks he knows what the spirit really wants. What he was eyeing all night at the dinner party. “Offerings of sake?”

Nyanko-sensei practically leaps for joy. Then he calms, trying to cover his enthusiasm. “That will be acceptable.”

“It’s a deal,” Kousuke says, pleased as well. “So you’ll tell me now? What happened?”

Nyanko-sensei smirks. “Not a chance. I told you, it’s none of your business.”

“Then what am I bribing you for?”

“Ha! I like you, priest,” Nyanko-sensei laughs. “You want answers? Ask him yourself.” He hops down from the wall and heads back to the Fujiwara house.

“I’m trying,” Kousuke sighs to himself. But for now, he heads home as well.

Chapter Text

When Takashi wakes up, he feels like he’s still at the bottom of Futaba Lake. His whole body feels heavy and weighed down. His dreams cling to him, full of grief and deep water.

“Sensei?” he groans, and cracks open his eyes. It’s almost dark outside. Did he sleep through dinner?

He squints at the clock. It’s morning? He slept that long?

Somehow he’s still tired. He sits up and then stops, dizzy. Five Name returns at once was a bad idea.

Five. He looks around.

The sixth yokai is still in his bedroom, sitting against the far wall. The bird. Sensei’s dozing on the floor between them. Did something happen while he was asleep?

His breakfast tray is gone, replaced with a tray full of food that would keep for a while. Ravenous, he eats everything, and feels slightly better.

“Finally,” Nyanko-sensei says. He’s awake. So is the bird yokai.

Right. Takashi has to give back her name. He feels like if he does, he’ll pass out again. But he reaches for the Book anyway.

The Book always feels warm when he’s with a Nameless yokai. Even before he does the ritual, the connection between the yokai and the Book and himself starts to activate. But right now—

“Nothing’s happening,“ he tells them, confused.

“She’s not in the Book!” Nyanko-sensei declares, and rounds on the bird yokai. “I knew it! And don’t even think about trying to possess him again!”

Again? Is that what happened?

“Did you just need my help to leave?” Takashi asks. The weak yokai couldn’t leave on their own. And all the other ones chose to not go back.

But then why try to possess him again? Now that she’s out, she can go wherever she wants.

“Forgive me, Natsume-sama,” the bird yokai says. “When I heard that you would help us— There’s a human I must meet! Even just a glimpse from afar—“

“A human?” Takashi asks.

“So this has nothing to do with the Book of Friends?” Nyanko-sensei challenges.

The bird yokai bows deeply. “Please, Natsume-sama. Let me haunt you until I can find him.”

“This is ridiculous!” Nyanko-sensei says, annoyed. “Get out of here, you pest! Shoo!”

He leaps at her, and she leaps away. He chases her around the room. Takashi is too tired for this nonsense.

“I won’t give up!” the bird cries. “I won’t let go!”

She leaps at Takashi, trying to dive back inside him.

Purely on instinct, Takashi punches her in the face. Her mask cracks and she falls, stunned. When she hits the floor, the mask falls away, as well as the long straight hair attached to it. Underneath, her hair is shorter and wavy, and she wears a simple paper mask like the one Tarusaru gave him. On it is the character for ‘bird’, stylized to look like one.

“Please,” the bird yokai begs, desperate. “Please! I have to see him!”

Takashi rubs his sore hand and knows he should refuse her. She’s not in the Book, she’s just a random yokai trying to take advantage of him. He owes her nothing, less than nothing because he already carried her out of Futaba Village. He certainly doesn’t owe her his body.

The Fujiwaras will be awake soon. He needs to put Futaba Village behind him and get back to normal. He missed class yesterday. Did Nishimura and Kitamoto come by and drop off his notes and homework again? The Fujiwaras must have worried about him all day.

If he could only have cleaned himself up before they saw him.

This is hardly the biggest mess he’s ever made. But the thought of facing the Fujiwaras is overwhelming. They want to know what happened to him, but he can’t answer their questions without upsetting them. And refusing to answer upsets them, too.

They should have already decided his fate. He should already be somewhere else. But he’s still here. He’s facing the choice on his own, for the first time. Stay or leave.

He can’t decide.

Maybe— If he just has more time— A little more time—

“Okay,” he says, even as he realizes he’s saying it. “I’ll help you.”

“What?!” Nyanko-sensei cries.

“But you have to stay out of my body,” Takashi continues.

“Of course, Natsume-sama,” the bird yokai says, bowing in gratitude. “Thank you, thank you!”

“This is absurd!” Nyanko-sensei sputters, outraged. “Ridiculous! Unbelievable!”

“Sensei,” Takashi chides. He’s too tired to deal with Nyanko-sensei’s complaining. “Who is this man?” he asks the bird yokai. “What does he look like?”

“I can’t remember much,” the bird yokai admits. “All I know is that his name is Taniozaki.”

“Taniozaki,” Takashi echoes. He doesn’t recognize the name. “How long ago was the village submerged?” He knows it was a while, from the Futaba yokai memories.

“Twenty years ago,” the bird yokai says. “I think he was a little older than you, when I knew him.”

“He should still be alive,” Takashi decides. “But will he even be around here?” Who would know? Who should he ask?

The Fujiwaras would probably know. But he can’t ask them. Someone else.

Nishimura and Kitamoto. They both know a lot about the area. But Kitamoto’s family has been here longer. He might recognize the name, might know where to start looking.

Takashi gets dressed. He takes out a spare school uniform out of habit, then pauses. It’s raining again. Futaba Village will surely be flooded soon, the dam refilled.

“Are you going back to Futaba?” he asks the bird yokai. “After you see Taniozaki?”

“Yes,” she says.

“Oh,” Takashi says, surprised. He expected her to say no, like the others. Though Sekkou went back, and so did Tarusaru. “Then we’d better hurry.”

Takashi doesn’t want to risk going downstairs to get his shoes. He takes the shoes he borrowed from Kaname out of the closet, and hopes the mud doesn’t ruin them. He leaves a note on his desk, saying he’s fine and needed to go out for an errand and didn’t want to wake anyone. Then he climbs out the window.

Nyanko-sensei is extremely not happy about all of this. But he follows after them anyway, and then hops up onto Takashi’s shoulder.

The sun is up by the time Takashi arrives at Kitamoto’s house, though it’s obscured by the clouds.

He knocks on Kitamoto’s door. Kitamoto’s mother answers it.

“Takashi-kun?” Nanami-san says, surprised. “What are you doing here? It’s so early.”

“I’m sorry,” Takashi says, bowing in apology. “I need to speak to Kitamoto. Please. It’s urgent.”

“Come in out of the rain,” Nanami-san says, and ushers him inside. “Oh, your kitty’s all wet! Where’s your umbrella? I’ll get some towels. Atsushi-kun!” she calls, as she leaves the entranceway.

“Natsume?” Kitamoto says, surprised. “I thought you were home sick. What are you doing here?”

“I need your help,” Takashi says. “Please, it’s important.”

“Of course,” Kitamoto says.

“I’m trying to find someone,” Takashi says, and glances at the bird yokai beside him. “His name is Taniozaki. He used to live in Futaba Village. I know it’s a long shot, but—“

“My dad’s from Futaba,” Kitamoto says.

“He is?” Takashi says, surprised.

Nanami-san returns with towels, and does her best to dry Nyanko-sensei. Takashi blots at his hair and clothes, but he’s already entirely damp.

“Yeah, most of the people from Futaba moved here,” Kitamoto says. “Hey, Dad!”

Akiyoshi-san walks out of the kitchen, still holding his breakfast. “Is that Takashi?”

“He’s trying to find someone named Taniozaki,” Kitamoto explains. “From where you grew up.”

“Taniozaki,” Akiyoshi-san ponders. “I haven’t heard that name in a while. Which one are you looking for?”

“A man,” Takashi says. “He’s probably around, um, 40?”

“Must be the brother,” Akiyoshi-san says. “I think I can find where he lives now, let me just—“ He walks off into another room.

There’s footsteps on the stairs. Kitamoto’s sister walks down. “What’s going on? Oh! Is that Natsume’s kitty? He’s all wet!”

“They got caught in the rain,” Nanami-san tells her.

“Who forgets their umbrella on a day like this?” Mana-chan says. When she sees Takashi, her eyes widen. “Whoa. What’s with the bruises?”

Everyone goes quiet.

“Just— Clumsy,” Takashi lies, and tugs fruitlessly at his collar. He managed to tuck all his bandages out of sight, and smeared cover-up over his visible bruises. But the rain must have washed it off. “I’m fine, really.” He smiles for her.

She doesn’t look convinced.

“It’s all right, Mana,” Kitamoto tells her, firmly. “So you’re coming to school today?” he asks Takashi.

“Yes,” Takashi lies. “I just have to take care of this first.”

“Must be pretty important,” Kitamoto says. He’s obviously curious. He looks at Takashi more intensely, searching for clues. He must know by now that asking won’t get him anything. His gaze catches on Takashi’s borrowed shoes.

“Here you go,” says Akiyoshi-san, returning with a piece of paper. There’s a name and address written on it. “It’s too far to make it before school. He’ll leave for work before you get there anyway. Better go this afternoon.”

“Of course,” Takashi lies, bowing in thanks. “You’re right.”

“Is that really him?” asks the bird yokai. She peers through her mask at the paper in his hand.

“Do you want to wait here for a bit, and leave with Atsushi-kun?” Nanami-san asks. She hands over Nyanko-sensei; his fur is less wet, but mussed from being rubbed.

“No, I should get going,” Takashi says.

“Then take an umbrella,” Nanami-san insists. She pulls one from the umbrella stand by the door and pushes it into his hands. “You’ll catch a cold, walking around all wet. And your health is so fragile.”

Takashi hates that she knows that. “Yes. Thank you. I’ll be careful.”

He puts back on Kaname’s shoes and hurries out. Just as he’s leaving, he hears Mana-chan say, “He didn’t have his school bag.”

Takashi opens the umbrella and runs.

He has to stop a few blocks away. His chest aches. But it doesn’t matter. He has to do this.

“It’s not too late to stop being a complete idiot,” Nyanko-sensei tells him. “We could be warm and dry right now, eating Touko’s breakfast. We can sneak back in. They’re probably not even awake yet.”

A part of Takashi wants to go back. But they probably already saw his note. He knows they’ll worry even more. But what else could he have written?

And besides, going back would mean facing them.

“No,” he says, and starts walking again.

When they reach Taniozaki-san’s address, of course no one answers. He probably won’t be home for hours. They find shelter in a nearby park, sit together and watch the rain. Actual birds peck at the ground, catching worms and bugs drawn up by the damp.

Stay or leave?

“What are you planning to do with that human?” Nyanko-sensei asks the bird yokai. “Do you want to curse him?”

“Oh!” Takashi says, alarmed. He hadn’t thought of that.

He doesn’t even know why she wants to see him.

“I’ve thought about it,” the bird yokai admits, to Takashi’s further alarm. “But no. I just want to see him.”

“Why does he matter so much to you?” Takashi asks. He can understand why Kodaki and Ookaze were so attached to their humans. Without human use and care, they would have remained inanimate objects. Just an ordinary pot and umbrella. But the other yokai, born of nature and the spirit world— To most of them, humans are threats or curiosities. Or prey.

The bird yokai holds out her hand, and one of the living birds lands on it. A sparrow. It chirps at her, fluffs its feathers.

“Do you have any siblings, Natsume-sama?”

“No,” Takashi says. “I don’t have a family anymore.”

He thinks of being with Kousuke-san and Kaname in the Yatsuhara shrine. Kousuke-san’s kind expression when he said Takashi was a part of their family.

Stay or leave?

“Oh,” says the bird yokai. She seems gently sympathetic. “I see.”

“What about you?” Takashi asks, assuming she brought it up for a reason. “Do you have any?”

“Yes, four of them. But they all died because of me.”

She goes quiet, leaving only the sound of rain falling on the leaves and the roof of their shelter.

“I was once a young bird,” she continues, softly. “One day, I fell from our nest. A human found me and put me back. But because I smelled like a human, our parents abandoned us. My siblings died one by one, and I was left alone. I was very sad. And then— I became a wrathful spirit.”

She says it all with perfect calm. Those terrible things—

“My anger trapped me,” she continues. “But one day, a human found me. All he could see were my glowing eyes, hidden in the bushes. He thought I was a stray dog and began to leave me food every day.” She smiles. “His human scent reminded me of the warm hands of the human who put me back in my nest. It was because of him that I was able to rest in peace when the village sank underwater.”

Every day. Like Shigure-sama and Sasada.

Shigure-sama’s affection for Sasada wells up inside him, out from the depths where all the yokai memories settle. The peace he felt, giving her one pure touch as he said goodbye.

Takashi pushes away a spike of jealousy. For Shigure-sama, for this bird yokai. Humans reaching out to spirits, again and again.

And then he remembers Kaname rushing to defend him in the abandoned schoolhouse. Kaname making an offering beside him in the shrine. The warmth of Kaname’s body as they rode through Hitoyoshi, barely listening to Nishimura and Kitamoto’s tour.

Is it really too late?

He shivers, chilled and damp.

The rain gets heavier. A crack of thunder and lightning make his heart race. An old memory tugs at him. Sitting outside in a storm, alone. He thinks he was in a shrine. The memory unsettles him.

“Natsume-sama, can I hold your hand?” asks the bird yokai.

Takashi takes her hand. It’s cold. Somehow it’s soothing.

Her memories spill into him, washing his own away. Her nest, her parents, her siblings. Her grief and guilt, anger and loneliness. And through it all, the warmth of human hands, reaching out.

He dozes.

When he opens his eyes, the rain has eased again. He looks at the bird yokai, at the small flock of sparrows perching on her and around her.

“You’re a sparrow,” he tells her.

“Yes,” she says.

He stands. His body is stiff and numb. Cold, like hers.

It’s time.

“Will he be able to see you?” he asks, as they leave the park. He saw it in her memories. Taniozaki-san sensed her presence, saw her glowing eyes. “The way you are now?”

“I don’t know,” the sparrow yokai admits.

He can feel her yearning for Taniozaki-san. Not just to see him again. To be seen by him. To feel his human warmth one more time. If she can’t—

It doesn’t feel fair.

“Just to see him again,” the sparrow yokai continues. “I’ll go home with no regrets.”

They wait, watch. And then—

“It’s him!” the sparrow yokai cries, excited. “I smell him!”

Before Takashi can stop her, she runs to Taniozaki-san, calling for him, smiling, waving her arms. She’s so excited, overcome with joy to see him again. She’s trying so hard.

But Taniozaki-san just—

He walks right past her.

“Don’t,” Nyanko-sensei warns.

“I have to,” Takashi says, his hands balled into fists.

He waits until Taniozaki-san goes inside and closes the door. Until the sparrow yokai comes back to him.

“Thank you, Natsume-sama,” she says, bowing. “I’ll go home now. It was a dream come true.”

“Wait,” Takashi says. But he tries one more thing before— “You don’t have to go back. You can stay. Here, with him.”

She could stay.

But she shakes her head. “I want to sleep in the same land as my siblings.”

All this rain. She can’t stay much longer.

“Then— Possess me!” he tells her, his nails digging into his palms. He didn’t know what’s what he was offering before, in Futaba Village. But he does now. “Use my body so he can see you, talk to you!”

She looks at him through her paper mask, and he’s not sure what she’ll do. But then she bows her head.

“Thank you, Natsume-sama.”

And she moves forward and—

Their hand reaches out and knocks on Taniozaki-san’s door.

It opens. Taniozaki-san looks at them and frowns. “Can I help you?”

They step forward to speak, and stagger, overcome with dizziness. Taniozaki-san moves forward and catches them.

He’s just like he was. His warmth. His scent.

“Come sit down,” Taniozaki-san says, and brings them inside, guides them to a chair. He brushes aside their wet bangs and presses his hand to their forehead. “You’re burning up. What’s your name? Can you talk?”

“Yes,” they say. She says. It’s easier when Takashi lets go, lets her have control. This is for her. “I wanted to see you again. To thank you.”

“Thank me?” Taniozaki-san asks, confused.

She laughs. “You know at first I— I hated you. You damned, impertinent human! I hated your kindness!” Their eyes well with tears. “I didn’t deserve it. It was all my fault. But you saved me anyway. Thank you. Thank you.”

Taniozaki-san just stares at them, bewildered.

They’re filled with happiness. He’s worrying over her again. It makes her so, so happy to let him care for her.

Takashi can’t understand it.

The sparrow yokai starts to leave his body. She has what she needs now, just like the yokai he returns Names to. She’s ready to go home.

“Thank you, Natsume-sama,” she says, as she drifts away. “Thank you for your kindness and your warmth. Thank you so much!”

And then she’s gone.

And Takashi is sitting in a stranger’s house.

He stumbles up, embarrassed and ashamed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s wet. Did he damage the chair? He can’t cause trouble. The people he lives with—

Takashi grabs the door to keep from falling. Pulls it open. He’s about to pass out.

“Wait!” Taniozaki-san calls, reaching for him.

Nyanko-sensei should be on the other side of the door. Ready to turn into his true form and carry him to—

But it’s not Nyanko-sensei standing there.

It’s Kousuke-san.

Relief rushes through Takashi as he falls into Kousuke-san’s arms. And even though he isn’t human, Kousuke-san feels warm.

Chapter Text

Takashi opens his eyes to the familiar sight of the Yatsuhara shrine ceiling.

Startled, he tries to sit up, then groans and lies back down. He feels terrible. Though not as terrible as he knows he should feel.

Through the window, he can see that the sun is shining, the rainclouds are gone. How long was he asleep?

“Sensei?” he calls. Where’s Nyanko-sensei?

The door opens. It’s Kousuke-san. Takashi remembers falling into his arms.

“Takashi? Are you awake?” Kousuke-san sits down beside him, meets his eyes. Seems pleased by what he sees. “You had a bad fever all night. But thanks to this place, it’s been going down. How are you feeling?”

Takashi swallows and looks away.

If Kousuke-san was human, he’d be angry right now. He’d yell at Takashi for getting sick again, for causing trouble, for missing school. He’d punish Takashi and take things away from him.

If Nyanko-sensei was here, he’d be complaining about all the work Takashi just made him do. About all the Names he gave back and the Book getting thinner. He’d be demanding food, or say he’s had enough and disappear to go drinking.

But Kousuke-san isn’t human, and he isn’t Nyanko-sensei.

“Nyanko-sensei is in your bedroom, pretending to be you again,” Kousuke-san calmly tells him. There’s no anger in his voice, no irritation. “Kaname is resting in his room. We’ve been taking turns watching over you.”

No. No no no.

Kaname should be at school right now. He shouldn’t have been up all night worrying.

And the Fujiwaras—

They’ll have to get rid of him now. They have to. But he doesn’t want to see their disappointment. He can’t bear it.

They asked him to live with them. They’re so kind. And he ruined it. It’s over.

He should feel calm right now. All this was inevitable. He thinks of the sparrow yokai going back to sleep under Futaba Lake, with her siblings. The peace of that deep, still water, like a heavy blanket in winter.

Kousuke-san holds out a tissue. Takashi takes it and presses it against his damp eyes.

“Would you like to talk about what happened?” Kousuke-san asks.

Takashi shakes his head.

“Okay,” Kousuke-san says, accepting. “Do you feel up to leaving the shrine? How about something to eat?”

Takashi shouldn’t be hungry. Touko-san won’t be giving him all those huge meals anymore. Whoever he ends up with, they’re going to complain if he eats too much. He can’t be a burden.

But his stomach growls anyway.

Kousuke-san chuckles. “That sounds like a yes. Come on, I made you some soup.”

Takashi squints against the bright sunshine as Kousuke-san helps him to the main hall. Despite all the being in the shintai was able to do for his yokai-induced fever, he’s still sick from being in the rain, and his cuts and bruises still hurt. It makes him feel strangely glad.

They go into the kitchen, and Kousuke-san wraps a blanket around him and gives him a bowl of soup. Not Touko-san’s, his own. It’s simple, but good, warming.

Takashi’s pajama sleeves and legs are rolled into cuffs. They’re Kaname’s pajamas, too big for him. Kaname’s sandals on his feet. Takashi must have ruined Kaname’s shoes, with the rain and mud. He needs to pay for them. He needs to pay for everything.

“Nyanko-sensei wouldn’t tell me any details,” Kousuke-san says. “But if you were helping spirits again, then I want to thank you. You must care about them very much.”

“I don’t,” Takashi says, before he can stop himself.

He doesn’t. He doesn’t care about yokai. He helps them because he has to. Because there’s no one else. Because when it’s done they leave him alone.

Futaba Dam must be full now. The yokai who went back there won’t be leaving again, not for a while. The sparrow, Sekkou, Tarusaru. They’re gone, and there’s nothing to say they existed at all except for the memories they left inside him.

The sparrow’s memories are still fresh. Human hands reaching out, warm around her trembling body as they lift her from the ground. She starved to death with her siblings. They cried and cried, but no one answered.

Takashi’s eyes still refuse to dry.

“You don’t?” Kousuke-san says, surprised. “But you help them anyway?”

Takashi gives a short nod. Then he realizes Kousuke-san must feel insulted by that. “I’m sorry.”

But Kousuke-san says, “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Nyanko-sensei would say noble beings are above mere yokai.

“I’d like to get you home as soon as possible,” Kousuke-san says. “Nyanko-sensei agreed to only sleep and eat while he’s pretending to be you with a fever. We have a little time. But we do need to figure out what to tell the Fujiwaras.”

Takashi stares at him. Even though Kousuke-san isn’t human, he seems enough like a human that his acceptance is still bewildering. And his insistence on helping Takashi lie to the Fujiwaras?

Nyanko-sensei doesn’t care what the Fujiwaras think. Not talking in front of them is as far as he’ll go. Or at least it was.

Takashi wants to ask why. Why would they help him? But he knows. For the Book. For Kaname. But even that doesn’t feel like enough.

“Just as spirits ask you for help, humans come to me,” Kousuke-san explains. “The Fujiwaras believe someone is hurting you. Do you think we could tell them the truth, that spirits are hurting you?”

“No!” Takashi says, horrified. “I can’t cause them trouble.”

“All right,” Kousuke-san assures him. “I promise I won’t tell them anything. Not unless you agree.”

“I can’t,” Takashi says again, and pulls at the ends of the blanket, tugging it closer. “I can’t go back.”

Kousuke-san pauses. “All right. Is there somewhere you want to go?”

Takashi shakes his head.

“Then you can stay here,” Kousuke-san says. “For as long as you need. Nyanko-sensei and I will deal with the Fujiwaras.”

Takashi shakes his head again. “I can’t—“

“Just as you help spirits, I help humans,” Kousuke-san says, firmly. “Nyanko-sensei and I made this a safe place for you. A refuge, just like the shrines. I promised to help and protect you in any way I can. Will you help me keep my promise?”

Takashi can’t deny him. He nods.

“Thank you, Takashi,” Kousuke-san says, with feeling. “I think the shrine has helped you as much as it can. Now it’s time to be here.”

As Takashi finishes his soup, his eyes start falling shut. He lets Kousuke-san lead him out of the kitchen. The house is dark with the wooden shutters drawn.

Kousuke-san opens a door. Kaname is sleeping inside. Takashi goes stiff.

“I know you two had an argument,” Kousuke-san says, voice soft. “But I don’t want you to be alone. I already set up a futon for you. All you have to do is sleep.”

There is a futon set up on the floor beside Kaname’s bed.

Kousuke-san helps him lie down.

“You’re safe here,” Kousuke-san whispers. “Just rest.”

Takashi closes his eyes and waits until Kousuke-san leaves the room.

He should leave.

He’s wanted to run away so many times. He always hurts the people he lives with. Why should so many people have to suffer because of him?

He’s tried to run away, to hide. But everything about him draws attention. Screaming in public. Tears in his clothes. He can’t ignore the spirits around him, can’t stop their taunts and attacks. Ending up in hospitals and police stations only makes things worse, makes more trouble.

He wishes he could sleep at the bottom of Futaba Lake, with the sparrow yokai and her siblings. But he isn’t welcome there.

He wanted Kaname to understand him. He wanted it so much.

Takashi could reach out and touch him, wake him.

He should turn away. He should go. He should forget all of this.

But Kousuke-san said he’s safe here. The barrier he made with Nyanko-sensei, around all of Yatsuhara. Takashi can feel that it’s safe.

He can’t let himself get used to safety.

But the futon is soft, and the soup warmed him. His fever is mostly gone. Nyanko-sensei and Kousuke-san promised to protect him. From spirits, from humans. And he’s so tired.

In his dreams, he follows a floating red lantern.

When he wakes, there’s a small light in the room. A reading lamp.

Kaname’s sitting up on his bed. When he sees Takashi is awake, he puts down his book.

“Hey,” Kaname says, softly.

Takashi doesn’t respond.

“You don’t have to talk to me,” Kaname says, calm. Not upset, not angry. “I’m sorry if the light woke you. Should I turn it off?”

Takashi shakes his head. He closes his eyes again. After a minute, he hears the flip of a page as Kaname goes back to reading.

He tries to fall back asleep, but he can’t. He lies there, eyes shut, body lax, and listens.

Kaname’s steady breathing. The flip of each page. Muffled birdsong from outside. The bed creaks when Kaname shifts positions.

Takashi wonders what he’s reading. He opens his eyes. It’s the gardening book that was on Kaname’s desk before. The one from the local library.

There’s a tray on the floor beside him. There’s water, senbei, a sliced orange. Takashi drinks, eats. The sharp sweetness of the orange helps.

He thinks about Nyanko-sensei, pretending to be him for the Fujiwaras. Kousuke-san needing to keep his promise. Promises are important to spirits. Maybe not as powerful as giving over a Name. But close.

He sneezes, then again, again. When it stops, Kaname is holding out a tissue box. Takashi takes it, blows his nose.

“Thanks,” Takashi says. Not just for the tissues. He feels grateful for everything, for a calm, safe place to rest. For their easy care. It’s selfish of him to take so much.

And now what? Kousuke-san said he would take care of everything. But Takashi can’t hide here forever. Nyanko-sensei can’t pretend to be him forever.

Life has to go on, like it always does. A strong and turbulent current always carrying him forward and away.

“Want to look?” Kaname says. He’s holding out the gardening book.

Kaname will still make the vegetable garden without him. The thought makes Takashi glad.

Kaname’s still holding out the book. Takashi takes it. It opens to the bookmark, revealing a section titled ‘Companion Planting’. Something about what vegetables should be grown together.

There’s no point to him learning any of this. Even if he wanted to, he’s never stayed anywhere long enough to grow anything, much less harvest. He’s helped the Fujiwaras with their garden, helped a few people he’s lived with, but he just ends up pulling out weeds no one else can see.

Kaname stands up. “Okay if I open the room? Bring in some fresh air?”

Takashi nods.

Kaname pushes back the shoji screens, then the wooden outer shutters. Afternoon sunlight fills the room, softened by the surrounding trees. The reflection of the pond dances on the ceiling. The shadows of the swimming koi.

Kaname sits on the engawa and faces the backyard. Takashi puts down the book and follows, sits a distance beside him.

Takashi looks at the overgrown garden, the neglected pond. When he was here before, Kaname wanted him to feed the fish.

Maybe he should. It’s the least he can do, for everything.

“I could feed them,” he says, quietly. “The koi. If you want.”

Kaname practically lights up with happiness. “Really? Hold on, I’ll get some peas.” He runs off to the kitchen, then runs back. His steps slow as he returns, and he’s calm again. He hands Takashi a cup of frozen peas.

They walk over to the pond. Kaname keeps back, unsure where the edge of the pond is. The koi are drawn to their presence just like koi in the human world. They swim up to Takashi and suck at the surface, begging. They’re used to being fed. How long has it been since anyone fed them?

Takashi drops in a few peas. The koi snatch them up immediately.

“Oh!” Kaname says, wide-eyed. “The peas are gone!”

“They like them,” Takashi says. He throws in some more. In no time at all, the cup is empty, and the koi disperse, bellies full.

“That was amazing,” Kaname says, grinning, staring at what must be short grass to him. He kneels down, unaware that his knees are in the water. A couple of koi swim up to him, curious, but he can’t see them.

Takashi kneels down, too, on the dry grass. Out of habit, he pulls out an overgrown weed, then another, clearing the space. Kaname probably can’t see any of the weeds, but he doesn’t say anything, just watches.

Dirt pushes under Takashi’s nails as he keeps pulling out weeds. He works his way around the edge of the pond, amassing a pile and getting his borrowed pajamas dirty and sweaty. But it feels good, despite his sore and achy body. He needs to do this. No one else can see the pond, the fish, not like he can. No one else can help them.

Dizziness finally stops him. He sits back on the grass, breathing hard, and wipes his brow with his sleeve.

“Wow,” Kaname says, and there’s no trace of annoyance in his voice, no scorn. “There’s spirit plants, too?”

Somehow that drags the smallest laugh out of Takashi. And that makes Kaname smile.

“What are they like?” Kaname asks.

“They’re weeds,” Takashi says. They don’t talk, they don’t have faces. They’re just weeds that no one but him can see or touch.

“That’s so normal,” Kaname says, amazed. “Are there more weeds here?”

“Yeah,” Takashi admits, looking around at the overgrown garden. “I think it used to be really nice here.”

Kaname stares at him. It’s hard to know what he’s thinking.

“I’m sorry about Sasada,” Kaname says, suddenly. “I should have made sure you were okay with it before I talked to her. I’m really sorry.”

Takashi looks away, his throat suddenly tight. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Kaname insists. “You trusted me. You asked me not to talk to anyone about it. It doesn’t matter what she figured out on her own. Spirits aren’t just something you can feel. They’re a whole world, and you’re part of it.“ He looks at Takashi with awe. “You’re amazing.”

Takashi’s whole face heats up. He shakes his head, denying. But Kaname keeps looking at him like he’s something wonderful.

Then Kaname blushes and looks away.

“Um,” Kaname starts, still looking away. “There’s a compost pile. We could bring the weeds there? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Takashi says.

Kaname rushes off, then comes back with a large woven basket. Takashi piles the weeds into the basket, then moves to pick it up. But Kaname grabs a handle.

Takashi takes the other handle.

“It’s heavy!” Kaname says, shocked. The basket must look empty to him. But now that they’re both holding it together—

Kaname reaches his other hand into the basket. And instead of going through the pile of wilting weeds, his hand makes contact.

“I can feel them,” Kaname says, awed. “They’re really weeds!”

Takashi feels a strange little flutter of happiness.

He didn’t think he’d ever feel that again. He thought it was over.

They carry the basket to the compost pile and dump it out. Kaname feels the light, empty basket and is amazed all over again.

Kaname’s so— He’s so—

They rest on the engawa together, with cold tea from the fridge. Takashi thinks about sitting with Kaname a few days ago, at the party.

He doesn’t understand. How can things can just be fine again?

And then he remembers Santo and Mikuri. How they made up just like that, once the earth spirits were gone. How Nishimura and Kitamoto squabble and even wrestle each other, but then go back to smiling and laughing.

He didn’t think something like that could ever happen to him.

Is this what it means to be friends? When things go wrong, it’s not the end?

It probably won’t matter. The Fujiwaras— Sasada— If he can’t stay in Hitoyoshi, he’ll have to leave Kaname behind.

The Fujiwaras.

Kousuke-san said he would deal with them. That Takashi doesn’t have to do anything. But humans trying to defend him always makes things worse. Kousuke-san isn’t human, but Kaname is.

Takashi can’t tell the Fujiwaras the truth. But he can’t make Kousuke-san lie for him, risk Kaname for him.

Whatever the consequences are, he has to accept them.

He stands up. “I should go home now. Thank you for everything.” He bows deeply to Kaname. I’m sorry I won’t be able to feed the koi again, he wants to say. But he can’t get the words out.

Kousuke-san isn’t hard to find. He’s been checking on them regularly the whole time, keeping his distance. Takashi bows deeply to him.

“Thank you for everything,” he says. “Please take me home now.”

Kousuke-san isn’t exactly pleased, even though he said he wanted Takashi to go home as soon as possible. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Kaname isn’t happy about him leaving either. He insists on coming with them.

Takashi ends up in the back of their car again, covered in a blanket for the drive down. Kousuke-san and Kaname greet the Fujiwaras at the door, and then while they’re distracted, Takashi slips inside and up the stairs.

And again, he goes into his bedroom and meets himself.

Nyanko-sensei, at least, is pleased by his return. “Finally!” he says, and this time he’s quick to return to his cat form. Takashi changes into his own clothes and shoves the bundle of Kaname’s pajamas and sandals into his cardboard box. He’ll find a way to return them, even if he has to leave tonight.

“I’d better get a whole bottle of sake for this,” Nyanko-sensei complains. “No, two bottles!”

“I’m not giving you sake,” Takashi mutters.

He doesn’t get into his bed. He heads downstairs. Nyanko-sensei follows him.

“Takashi-kun?” Touko-san calls, when she sees him. “Oh! You’re finally feeling better? Thank goodness!”

Shigeru-san is with her, and so are Kaname and Kousuke-san. Takashi didn’t give them time to leave. But it’s too late now.

“Kaname, please wait for me in the car,” Kousuke-san says.

“But Dad—“ Kaname protests. He looks at Takashi, obviously worried.

Takashi doesn’t want him to worry. He doesn’t want him to be upset. He wants Kaname to be happy, he wants everyone else to be happy, like they should be.

Kaname isn’t happy as he walks away, as the front door closes behind him.

“Takashi.” Shigeru-san’s expression is serious.

Kousuke-san puts a hand on Shigeru-san’s arm. “Why don’t we sit down together?”

“Yes,” Touko-san says, sounding relieved. “I’ll make some tea.”

They sit down at the kitchen table, everyone in their usual places. Kousuke-san sits next to Takashi, across from Shigeru-san.

“This is your home,” Shigeru-san says. “We want you to feel comfortable here. But it’s not acceptable to disappear without any explanation and skip school. Please tell us what’s going on.”

Takashi still doesn’t know what to tell them. He hates having to lie. He has to lie to everyone all the time and it’s awful. But when he tells the truth, people call him a liar and get angrier, more disappointed in him, more frustrated and disgusted.

The only thing that helps is saying nothing. Apologizing, showing his regret without any attempt to defend or explain. It doesn’t stop people from being upset. But if he simply accepts his punishment, then it’s over.

Until the next time, and the next, and the next. Until there isn’t a punishment big enough to fix things. And then he’s moved somewhere else, and it starts all over again.

“Why did you go to see Taniozaki-san?” Shigeru-san asks. “He said he didn’t remember meeting you before, but you seemed to know him.”

Takashi goes stiff. Shigeru-san talked to Taniozaki-san?! Takashi tries to remember what the sparrow said to him, but it’s all a blur.

“I can’t explain,” Takashi forces out. “I’m sorry.” He bows his head, ashamed, and braces himself.

The Fujiwaras haven’t punished him yet. Not in all the time he’s lived with them. No matter how strange his behavior, no matter what the expense.

If they would just punish him, he would know their limits. He could gauge their anger. He would know what to do.

“We need to know if someone is hurting you,” Shigeru-san says. “After speaking with Taniozaki-san, I don’t believe it’s him. But you’ve lived in so many places. If it’s someone from your past— You only have to give us their name, and they’ll never hurt you again.”

A hand rests on his arm. Kousuke-san. “Takashi. If you’re not ready to tell them who it is. That’s okay. But it will help them to know if someone is hurting you, or if you’re hurting yourself.”

Takashi looks up at him, startled.

People have always accused him of hurting himself. But it feels different coming from Kousuke-san. He knows.

But if he knows, then—

“Is someone hurting you?” Kousuke-san asks him. Prompts him.

Takashi doesn’t understand humans. He doesn’t know how to make them happy. But Kousuke-san does.

“Yes,” Takashi says, quietly.

Touko-san gasps, shocked. Takashi tenses even more, stares down at the table, at his untouched tea. This was a mistake. This was an awful mistake.

“Thank you, Takashi,” Kousuke-san says, gently.

Takashi forces himself to look up. To face the consequences.

The Fujiwaras aren’t happy. They’re still upset. But they also seem— Relieved?

That’s not how they should be reacting. He doesn’t understand. But somehow, Kousuke-san knew.

“Are you in danger right now?” Kousuke-san asks him.

The Futaba Village yokai are all gone. Takashi’s never safe, but— There’s no immediate threat. He shakes his head.

Touko-san gasps again, this time with relief.

“Do you feel up to going to school tomorrow?” Kousuke-san asks.

Takashi nods. Sasada will be there. But so will Nishimura and Kitamoto. And he’ll get to see Kaname at lunch. If he doesn’t have to leave Hitoyoshi yet— He wants to see Kaname.

He doesn’t have to leave yet?

“I think the best thing we can do is get back to normal,” Kousuke-san tells them.

“But if there’s someone—“ Touko-san starts.

“We can’t do anything about them right now,” Kousuke-san says. “But we can take care of Takashi. He’s what’s most important.”

“Yes,” Shigeru-san says, firmly. “Takashi. Thank you for telling us.”

Touko-san musters a wobbly smile. “Yes. Thank you, Takashi-kun. Perhaps— Do you feel up to dinner? I can make one of your favorites.”

“Um. Okay,” Takashi says, confused.

Kousuke-san still has a hand on Takashi’s arm. He gives it a light squeeze. “I’m very glad you’re feeling better. If anything comes up, anything at all—” He pulls his hand away and stands up. “Would you be so kind as to walk me out?”

“Of course,” Shigeru-san says, and the two of them leave the kitchen.

Takashi hears the front door slide shut behind them, and then faint conversation.

He looks down at Nyanko-sensei, hoping the yokai will be able to explain what just happened. The cat looks back at him and shrugs, then goes to beg Touko-san for food as she starts preparing dinner.

Chapter Text

Takashi can’t ignore how the Fujiwaras watch him closely over dinner. They’re upset about what happened. But their anger isn’t directed at him, as far as he can tell. They’re as gentle and kind to him as always, as the day all of them were together for the first time in the hospital in Chigasaki City.

Shigeru-san asks if Takashi would like to stay downstairs with them to watch TV together. It feels like the least Takashi can do to repay them, so he does. Unfortunately, the show they put on is full of random yokai randomly appearing, like every other show and movie he’s ever seen, except for that one movie.

During one of the commercial breaks, there’s an ad for a new movie. And there’s no yokai in the scenes they show. Except for the shadowy lizard yokai on the main actor’s face.

When Takashi sees him, he gasps.

“A new Natori Shuuichi movie?” Shigeru-san says. “Looks like it’s opening tomorrow. Would you and your friends like to go?”

Natori Shuuichi. Does he have something to do with why his movies don’t have yokai in them? Maybe it’s the lizard yokai. Maybe it’s not haunting him, but protecting him, like Nyanko-sensei and Kousuke-san.

“Yes,” Takashi says, surprising himself with his own eagerness. But then he thinks of the cost of the tickets. The Fujiwaras haven’t said anything about taking away his allowance. But almost all of it goes to buying treats for Nyanko-sensei. And will his friends be upset about the expense? Will they even want to see this movie?

“How wonderful!” Touko-san says, delighted. “We should all go! He’s such a charming man.” Then she blushes and giggles behind her hand. “Sorry, Shigeru.”

“You’re right, he is charming,” Shigeru-san says, unbothered. “Check with your friends tomorrow. If they can make it, it will be our treat.”

“Oh, that’s too much!” Takashi protests, surprised.

“I insist,” Shigeru-san says. “We’re all overdue for an evening out.”

Takashi already knows he can’t stop them from being generous with him. He’s lost track of all the things he has to pay them back for. But after everything that happened this week? It’s so much.

But they’re happy about it. He can’t refuse them.

“Thank you,” he tells them, accepting.

He barely watches the rest of the show, too in shock to struggle past the yokai chaos on the screen.

No yokai come for their Names in the middle of the night. Nyanko-sensei is there when he goes to sleep and when he wakes up. But the cat must have left at some point, because in the morning his breath reeks of sake.

Takashi can’t get upset about it, though. Nyanko-sensei definitely fulfilled his bodyguard duties this week, and then some. If he needed to go blow off steam at some yokai party, it’s fine. Takashi just hopes the Fujiwaras don’t notice the smell.

Nishimura, it turns out, not only knows who Natori Shuuichi is, but is a huge fan. He spends their whole walk to school telling Takashi about how cool Natori-san is and about his breakout romantic role, and how he’s actually local to the area.

If it was about any other actor, Takashi would let it all flow past him, like he usually does when Nishimura gets enthusiastic about a topic. He learned quickly that engaging with the flood of information will only make him drown. But the more he hears about Natori-san, the more his curiosity grows.

Nishimura is absolutely thrilled by his interest.

When they reach the school, Kaname is at the gate, waiting to meet them.

Kaname. Takashi can’t help but smile.

“Feeling better?” Kaname asks.

The small question makes Takashi’s stomach flutter strangely. Maybe because of the intense way Kaname is looking at him. “Yes, thank you.”

For a moment, it feels like it’s just the two of them again, like they were in Yatsuhara. Feeding the fish together, carrying away the weeds.

“We’ll see you in class,” Kitamoto says, startling him back to reality. Kitamoto gives Nishimura a push along the path.

Nishimura looks at Kitamoto, confused. “But we’re supposed to—“

“Keep going,” Kitamoto mutters, and pushes him along.

Takashi wonders what that was about.

“This is for you,” Kaname says, drawing his attention back. He holds out a folded piece of paper.

Takashi opens it. It’s a list of locations in the school. He looks up, baffled.

Kaname leans closer. “I came early to check for, you know,” he says, his voice low. “I know they move around. But that’s where I felt something.”

Felt something—?

“Oh!” Takashi gasps, realizing. “You shouldn’t— It’s dangerous for you to—“

“I’m fine,” Kaname soothes. “I can feel them without getting too close. I didn’t even get a headache. And besides, this is useful for me, too.”

There are always yokai in the school. Usually nothing too dangerous, but Takashi hates getting surprised by them. He ends up screaming and making a scene, and it’s embarrassing. And when the yokai realize he can see them, sometimes they attack him and he has to run away. If he could avoid them better, they might leave him alone more, but he rarely has any warning.

Kaname can’t see yokai. But he can feel them even from a distance. And he knows what’s real and what isn’t.

Kaname is so kind, and so brave— Takashi has to struggle not to cry.

“Thank you,” Takashi says, quietly, and holds the paper close.

“Want to walk in together?” Kaname says. “We should avoid the main stairs.”

The main stairs. If Kaname hadn’t checked first, Takashi would have walked right into a yokai there. He would have made a scene in front of everyone.

But thanks to Kaname, they can go a different way, a safer one.

Takashi is too overcome to even thank him. He walks inside with Kaname, and they reach his classroom without any trouble at all. And just like that, he’s at his seat, back with Nishimura and Kitamoto.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” Kaname says, and walks away.

Takashi is so stunned by what just happened that he barely listens at all as Nishimura tells him about Natori-san’s burgeoning music career. And then class is starting, and Takashi missed two days of school this week, so he has to pay attention. But as the teacher takes attendance, Nishimura taps him on the shoulder and passes him a stack of papers.

For a moment, Takashi has the absurd thought that Nishimura made a list of nearby yokai, too. But it’s just a copy of his and Kitamoto’s notes for everything Takashi missed.

Takashi wants to hold these papers close, too. How did he get so lucky, to have all these kind people around him? He doesn’t understand it, but he’s so grateful.

Sasada doesn’t stare at him in class like she usually does. In fact, she ignores him completely. Takashi worries about it all morning. But even if it means something worse is going to happen, not having her watching him is a relief.

He gets back his math test, and even though it’s not his best grade, he still managed to pass it.

Nishimura continues telling them about Natori-san over lunch, about his mysterious personal life and how he’s considered a good luck charm on his film sets. Takashi tries to pay attention, but it’s hard to not be distracted by Kaname sitting right there, his long dark hair catching the sunlight.

Takashi shares some of his bento with everyone — Touko-san made it as overstuffed as always — and feels happy giving back to his friends. Happy being with them, with Kaname. The day is warm and he feels a million miles away from everything about Futaba Village.

But by the afternoon, his misadventures have caught up with him again, and he falls asleep in class. He struggles back awake, not sure how much he missed, but he just can’t keep his eyes open.

“You should go home and rest so you’re awake for the movie tonight,” Nishimura says, after classes end.

The three of them end up walking home with him, even though for Kaname it’s out of the way. Takashi doesn’t protest; it takes all of his concentration to not fall asleep on his feet. Passing out in front of people upsets them. Nishimura’s fretted over his health ever since he found Takashi unconscious from a yokai attack.

They say hello to Touko-san when they drop Takashi off. Once they’re gone, Takashi almost collapses right in the entrance. But Touko-san guides him to the living room and lays him down on the sofa. She goes to get a blanket, and he falls asleep the moment she turns away.

He wakes up feeling warm. There’s a blanket draped over him, and Nyanko-sensei is perched on top. His purrs rumble into Takashi’s body. Touko-san is sitting nearby, humming under her breath as she sews. Takashi’s eyes unexpectedly well with tears, and he hides his face against the sofa cushion.

He doesn’t understand how any of this is happening. It shouldn’t be real. But it isn’t a dream, isn’t memories from someone else’s life.

When they meet up at the movie theater, Kaname is already there with Kousuke-san.

“You like movies, Kousuke-san?” Touko-san asks.

“Who doesn’t?” Kousuke-san says, cheerful. “And I’ve heard this Natori is very good.”

The theater is packed, with humans taking up all the seats, and only a few curious yokai along the walls. Takashi’s group breaks in two, the adults sitting a few rows back. With the big screen — and over the initial shock of a yokai-free movie — Takashi lets himself be swept away.

It’s not the plot that captivates him, or even the shadowy lizard on Natori-san. It’s what he sees.

A world without yokai.

Just as no other human can see his world, he’s never been able to see theirs.

There’s no creatures in the shadows, no yokai hanging out in corners or on ceilings, no little ones sprinting across the road to avoid being stepped on or run over. The only living beings are other humans, a few pets, and wild animals like birds. His eyes catch on a sparrow in the background.

He stares, wide-eyed, and imagines himself inside the movie.

It must be so safe in that world. A surge of envy makes his chest hurt so much he almost has to run out of the theater. But he forces himself to keep watching, holds Nyanko-sensei close, and the feeling passes.

He watches the rest half-entranced, half-numb. Part of his mind observes dispassionately, calculating. Like when he moves somewhere new. Where are the threats? Where is safety? There are still spirit weeds in the outdoor scenes, but they’re wilted, like something is hurting them.

He feels a pang of sympathy for the weeds. Even though he’d pull them out if he could, and throw them away. They don’t belong in that empty world. How could he ever belong there?

When the movie ends, Nishimura immediately starts gushing about it. Everyone else seems to have enjoyed it, too. Takashi can’t even remember the plot, but he does his best to smile for them.

“You okay?” Kaname asks, as the audience starts to disperse outside the theater.

“Of course,” Takashi says, still smiling. “The movie was great.”

But Kaname’s gentle worry makes his smile fade.

Takashi wants to tell him. How there were no yokai in the movie. How it was amazing and awful and—

But it’s too much to say. And there are so many other people here.

He looks out at the street. There’s yokai in the shadows, watching the crowd of humans. There’s spirit weeds in the flower pots, growing healthy and strong.

The Fujiwaras take him home. They keep giving him concerned glances, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. He holds Nyanko-sensei close and tries to be happy. If he lived in that empty world, surely he’d be as happy as every other human.

When they get home, Touko-san looks at him with such care. She pets his hair and asks if he needs anything before bed.

When a knocking wakes him in the middle of the night, he feels a strange relief.

It’s just one yokai. The spirit of a cloud, harmless and serene. Takashi didn’t know clouds could become spirits. But an old paper umbrella and a cracked pot became spirits, too.

”Hogaraka.”

When he gives back Hogaraka’s Name, he takes in the memory of millions of tiny specks of water and dust and bacteria. They’re each too small to even have memories. They’re always entering or leaving the cloud, all of them merely passing through. Yet somehow during that moment of belonging, they make a greater whole.

They forever bask in the sun. Below them, they cast a shadow on the earth. When they pass over, the living earth below them breathes out a sigh of grateful relief.

One day, Hogaraka sinks low, becoming a mist that touches the ground. Curious, they condense into a physical form, to experience the world they have always sheltered.

And then a girl walks out of the mist, and asks to play a game.

As Takashi opens his eyes, the cloud passes over him in thanks. Moisture fills his lungs, and just for a moment, he is part of the cloud, too. Another tiny speck passing through.

He breathes out. The cloud drifts away. As the last of their connection fades, he can feel that parts of himself are being carried away with it. The air he exhaled, flecks of spit, shed skin cells. They will pass through the cloud too.

When Takashi was young, the people he lived with would sometimes bring him to festivals. Though it’s hard to think about, like all his old memories, he still remembers how excited he was to go. How special it felt to be part of a human celebration.

But inevitably, there would be yokai. They would scare him, attack him, and he would have to run away. But the people he lived with would chase after him, too. Humans and yokai would both shout at him and get more and more upset as he outran them, desperate to not be caught.

But after the yokai were gone, he had to return to the people he lived with.

As he got older, the people he lived with were warned about his behavior. Takashi wasn’t brought to festivals anymore. That part of human life, like so many others, was something he lost the right to have.

But on Saturday morning, the Fujiwaras bring Takashi to the hydrangea festival.

He tries to protest, to let them go without him. He’s already troubled them so much. But just like with the movie outing, they’re happy and excited to go, and for him to go with them.

He knows all this new behavior is because of what he told them, at Kousuke-san’s insistence. It has to be. But if they’re trying to protect him somehow, from the human they think is hurting him, a crowded festival is the last place they should take him.

Takashi holds Nyanko-sensei close as they approach the festival grounds. He tells himself it won’t be like before. The cat’s presence is enough to keep most yokai at bay, and even if it isn’t—

Whatever they face there can’t be any worse than Futaba Village.

And it’s fine. It is. There are blooming hydrangeas everywhere, blue and purple and pink. Humans and yokai are both entranced by them. Human families and couples pose for photos. A troupe of tiny human-like yokai in ceremonial robes perform some kind of ritual. A large furry yokai sits beside a lacecap hydrangea; it hums to itself and sways in contentment.

For now, at least, everyone is more interested in the flowers than him. He breathes out and tries to enjoy himself.

“Oh, let’s have our photo taken!” Touko-san says.

Shigeru-san speaks to one of the festival photographers, and then he and Touko-san step in front of an especially beautiful arrangement of hydrangeas to pose.

Takashi stays where he is, waiting for them to finish. But then Touko-san waves him over.

Surely they don’t—

Takashi’s feet move him forward. And then he’s standing with the Fujiwaras, with Nyanko-sensei in his arms. They have to stand close for the photo. Their bodies press lightly against his.

At the photographer’s prompt, he smiles.

“Oh, I’m so happy!” Touko-san says, after. “Our first festival together!” She gives Takashi a doting smile.

Takashi looks at the photographer’s ticket in Shigeru-san’s hand. Buying the photo will cost money. Not a lot, but—

He swallows against a tightness in his throat.

They reach the entrance to the festival grounds. It’s a torii gate. The festival is in a shrine.

He passes through into safety. There are no yokai inside.

They reach an array of booths, selling food and flowers and other things. And standing in one of the booths, talking to the people there, is Kousuke-san.

Shigeru-san calls and waves, and Kousuke-san sees them and waves back. They walk over to the booth.

“Good morning!” Kousuke-san says, cheerful. “I hope you’re enjoying the festival?”

“Are you helping out?” Touko-san asks.

“We came early to help everyone set up,” Kousuke-san says. “The local shrines and temples work together for all the festivals. Obon will be the big event for Yatsuhara.” He looks past them and waves. “Kaname! Look who’s here!”

Kaname is walking over. He smiles when he sees them.

“We’re due for a break. How about we join you?” Kousuke-san asks.

They walk along the booths, browsing. Takashi and Kaname leave the adults to talk, though they don’t go far. Even in a shrine, Takashi feels better having both his bodyguards nearby.

At every booth they go to, the people there greet Kaname warmly. Both of them are given free samples and little gifts. Takashi gets to try hydrangea tea and hydrangea ice cream. He’s given a bookmark with pressed hydrangea florets, and a paper fan painted with blue flowers. Even Nyanko-sensei gets a gift, a flower-decorated grooming comb.

Each interaction, each gift feels more unreal. Is this what all festivals are like? He doesn’t remember much about the ones he went to before, aside from having to run away. Is everyone always so friendly, so kind?

And Kaname seems so happy. After Takashi almost ruined everything between them. He was happy watching Takashi feed the spirit fish and pull out invisible weeds. He’s happy being at the festival with him.

All this happiness fills him up, like the memories when he returns a Name. This should make him feel like someone else, too. Happiness is something he lost the right to have a long time ago. But somehow he’s still himself.

They meet back up with the Fujiwaras and Kousuke-san, and they all go to the performance area. Nishimura and Kitamoto are there and wave them over to join them. Kitamoto’s family is there too, his parents and his sister, but Nishimura’s family was too busy to attend.

The adults sit together, and Kitamoto’s parents start talking to the Fujiwaras and Kousuke-san. Takashi can’t hear what they’re saying over the noise of the crowd, but there’s enough glances in his direction that he knows they’re talking about him.

A wave of numbness passes through him. Nothing good ever happens when adults talk to each other about him.

He tightens his hold on Nyanko-sensei. He tells himself it’s fine. If they’re going to get rid of him it’s fine. It would explain the past few days. The people he lives with often give him gifts right before he leaves.

No. Kousuke-san is helping him stay here. Whatever happens with the Fujiwaras, Kousuke-san promised to help him.

He doesn’t have to leave yet.

Nyanko-sensei is a comforting weight on his lap. Kaname’s knee is pressed against his, and somehow that’s comforting too. A small touch, incidental, undemanding.

The numbness eases. And then loud drumming startles him, and he looks up to see the taiko drummers have started their performance. The noise of them shakes right through him.

After they finish, the priest and shrine maidens come onto the stage. They thank everyone for coming and perform a ritual offering, praying for the good fortune of the community. A troupe of young women come out and perform a Kagura dance. An older woman plays a biwa while she recites a poem.

To his surprise, he recognizes the woman. She’s a teacher at his school. He looks around at the crowd and recognizes other people here. And some of the people running the booths looked familiar. There’s certainly visitors from out of town, but most of the people here must be locals.

It gives him a strange feeling. He’s lived in places this long before, but he had to keep to himself to avoid troubling anyone. But now he has Nyanko-sensei. He’s been all over town with Kitamoto and Nishumura. He goes to the shops and nothing gets broken by yokai, so he can linger there. And he’s here at the festival.

After a few more performances, the show ends with another round from the taiko drummers. Everyone applauds, and the crowd disperses.

They all go to the food booths and get lunch. And then after, their group splits back up. Nishimura leaves with the Kitamotos. Kaname and Kousuke-san go back to helping run the festival.

The Fujiwaras stop by the photographer’s booth and pick up their photo. Shigeru-san pays, and they give him a pair of photo folders.

Shigeru-san turns to Takashi and hands him one of the folders. “This copy is yours.”

Takashi opens it and looks at the photo. The three of them are smiling, surrounded by beautiful flowers. Nyanko-sensei looks serene.

Oh.

Takashi closes the folder, overcome.

“Thank you,” he says, and holds the folder close.

When they get home, he goes up to his room to rest. Nyanko-sensei stretches out on his desk, yawns, and goes to sleep.

Takashi goes to the closet and takes out his cardboard box. He opens the folder and looks at the photo one more time. Then he puts it at the very bottom of the box, with Kousuke-san’s letter.

Chapter Text

When his dad leaves the Fujiwaras and gets back in the car, he tells Kaname about how he convinced Takashi to finally tell the Fujiwaras a small part of the truth about his situation.

But without the rest, they naturally decided that Takashi’s injuries must have a human source. Someone from his past, a stalker who followed him to Hitoyoshi, who hurts him when he’s alone and vulnerable.

The Fujiwaras were ready to go to the police. Shigeru-san was prepared to dig back through Takashi’s entire history to find the culprit.

It would be easy to correct them, to tell them that Takashi is being hurt by spirits. They could even prove it, if Ponta was willing to cooperate and show them he can talk.

But Takashi’s reaction to Sasada was bad enough. They don’t know what happened to bring him to the terrible state he was in when Dad found him. But they do know that they can’t betray his trust again, can’t force him into something he isn’t ready for.

Dad asked the Fujiwaras to give him time. He told them he needs to continue to earn Takashi’s trust, so he can better understand the situation. He asked that they focus their attention on Takashi, so that they can earn Takashi’s trust, too.

Shigeru-san agreed to that, but only as long as Takashi isn’t hurt again. Only as long as the ‘stalker’ stays away.

But spirits are everywhere, all the time.

That evening, Kaname and his dad make some calls.

First, Kaname calls Sasada. It’s a relief to hear her voice, and he wants to tell her everything.

But he can’t talk to her about Takashi or yokai. Not as long as Takashi is afraid of her. So he has to tell her that, and ask her to avoid doing anything that might upset Takashi.

It’s not the easiest conversation Kaname’s ever had. It hurts to have to push aside one friend for another. But to Sasada’s credit, she understands.

“I want to help him,” she says, determined. “If he needs me to ignore him, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” he tells her. “You’re a good friend. I hope he can see that someday.”

When he hangs up, he feels like a terrible friend. Sasada’s been through a lot, losing her parents, and the whole thing with Shigure-sama. And she hasn’t been able to get her friend Taki to start talking to her again.

Once again Kaname wonders if he should try talking to Taki himself. He sees her every school day, on his walk to school in the morning and in class. But he doesn’t want to make the same mistake Sasada made. If Taki doesn’t want to talk to him, he needs to leave her alone.

Dad takes the phone next, and reaches out to his exorcist contacts again. One of them finally has something for them: a phone number and a name.

Matoba.

The contact cautions them to only call if they’re serious, if they have a genuine spirit problem that can’t be resolved by other means.

Dad dials the number. Kaname leans close to listen.

“Who is speaking?” answers a woman. She sounds older.

“Um. Hello,” Dad starts. “This is Tanuma Kousuke. I was given this number to get help with a spirit problem. Are you— Matoba-san?”

There’s a pause. “My name is Nanase. Please describe the problem you’re experiencing.”

“Yes,” Dad says. “Well, my son is, ah, sensitive to the spirit world. We moved to a new area recently. He was exploring and— He had a dangerous encounter with some sort of earth spirits.”

“How dangerous?” Nanase-san asks.

“They tried to kill him.“

“I see. Is he in immediate danger?”

“Not at the moment,” Dad says. “But I do need help as soon as possible. It’s very important to me that my son is safe.”

“Of course,” Nanase-san says. “We’ll look into the matter. Give me your address and someone will be in touch.”

“You didn’t tell her about Takashi,” Kaname says, after the call ends.

“I’d like to leave him out of this for now,” Dad says. “We can use the earth spirits as a test case. If it goes well, we’ll tell the exorcists about Takashi. But if they’re just as useless as the last ones—”

“Yeah,” Kaname agrees.

He didn’t like the exorcists they consulted about his migraines. Maybe it was because they couldn’t help him. But plenty of people couldn’t help him. There was just something— Dismissive about them. Maybe because he was a child. It was all too long ago for him to remember clearly. In the end, they were only one in a countless line of disappointments.

“Any luck with my neurologist?” Kaname asks. They got the soonest appointment they could, but it’s weeks from now.

“Oh, yes!” Dad says, and reaches for the pad next to the phone. “In all the excitement I forgot. They had a cancellation, we can see them Monday. It’s during school hours so I’ll pick you up from there.”

Just weeks ago, Kaname believed that the exorcists were right. He was resigned to a lifetime of uncontrollable chronic pain. But now—

Now everything is different.

He wants everything to be different for Takashi, too.

Later that evening, the phone rings. It’s Kitamoto, and he sounds worried.

“Did you know Natsume has a stalker?” Kitamoto asks.

“I heard, yeah,” Kaname says. It never ceases to amaze him how fast word travel in this town. Especially when it’s about Takashi.

“This is so messed up. I guess that’s why he was acting so weird the other day. Shigeru-san talked to my dad about it. He asked us to be on the lookout. I think he’s talking to the school principal, too.”

Kaname just got Sasada to stop staring at Takashi in class. He’s not going to like being watched even more by everyone else. Especially not because of an imaginary stalker.

“That’s a good idea,” Kaname says. “But we don’t want to stress Natsume out. No one’s seen this guy. So I think as long as someone’s with him, that should keep the stalker away, right?”

The worst yokai trouble does always seem to happen when Takashi is alone.

“Hmm, makes sense,” Kitamoto says. “That shouldn’t be too hard. If he’s not with us or at home, he’s usually with you, right?”

“Pretty much,” Kaname says, glad Kitamoto can’t see his blush. He’s not even sure why he’s blushing.

“You know, I think I almost saw him once,” Kitamoto says. “The stalker. I was at school late, and Natsume was in a classroom, talking to someone. He sounded upset, kept telling the guy to leave him alone. But when I got into the classroom, Natsume was alone. He said I’d scared the guy off.”

It must have been a yokai. “Seriously?” Kaname says. “I’m glad you were there.”

“Me too,” Kitamoto says. “That stalker guy must have been mad about it, because he locked the school doors. We ran around the school trying to get out. But then the front doors were unlocked again. A teacher must have opened them while we were trying the other exits.” He pauses. “I thought whatever Natsume’s been through— It was over. But it’s not.”

“No,” Kaname agrees, softly.

He thinks about Natsume running desperately from threatening shadows. Pulled into the air by powerful yokai. Lying unconscious in the Yatsuhara shrine, burning with fever.

Even Ponta isn’t enough to keep Takashi safe. Will the exorcists be able to help? Or will he disappear again someday, pulled into the spirit world, and never make it back?

The thought makes Kaname’s chest hurt.

“Whoever this jerk is, we’re not gonna let him hurt Natsume anymore,” Kitamoto says, determined.

“Yeah,” Kaname says, though his throat is tight.

Kitamoto pauses. “You guys have gotten pretty close, huh?”

“I think so,” Kaname says.

He hopes so. He messed up and Takashi almost died. He knows some yokai attack couldn’t possibly be his fault. But it feels like his fault anyway.

Takashi is such a confusing mix of fragile and steely. He’ll stand defiant against terrifying monsters, but the smallest things can undo him. He can feel unreachable, but when he finally smiles—

Kaname just wants him to be able to smile.

The next morning, Kaname gets to school early. He walks around the schoolyard and the hallways, feeling for any yokai. There’s always something around the school, of course, and Kaname can’t feel anything that’s too weak. But the weak yokai probably don’t give Takashi much trouble.

He’s never done spirit reconnaissance for someone else before. He feels braver, actively searching on Takashi’s behalf. Based on what Takashi said, he can’t easily tell what’s mundane and what’s a spirit. So even though Kaname can’t purify or exorcise anything, this is something he can do for Takashi, something no one else can.

He makes a note of each place that gives him a chill or a pain in his head. When he feels something, he keeps a safe distance. When he finishes, he copies the list to a fresh piece of paper, and folds it.

He goes to the gate and waits for Takashi to arrive. He’s glad for the excuse to see him early; he couldn’t stand to wait all the way until lunch.

And then there Takashi is, with Kitamoto and Nishimura. He’s moving a little slower than normal, still recovering, but he looks a hundred times better than he did yesterday. Even from a distance, that bleak resignation is gone.

They reach the gate and see Kaname. And Takashi gives one of his real smiles.

It makes Kaname’s heart ache. It makes him feel flustered and restless, and want to talk excitedly about everything. But his dad said it’s best to be relaxed with Takashi, that calm and steady care is what he needs most. And there’s so much they can’t talk about in public.

So he just asks a simple, “Feeling better?”

And Takashi gives a simple, “Yes, thank you,” back. But it feels like so much.

“We’ll see you in class,” Kitamoto says, and gives Nishimura a nudge to move on.

Nishimura looks at him, confused. “But we’re supposed to—“

“Keep going,” Kitamoto mutters, and pushes him along.

Takashi gives them a confused look as they go.

“This is for you,” Kaname says, and gives him the folded paper.

Takashi opens it and reads it, and looks at him with even more confusion.

“I came early to check for, you know,” Kaname says, keeping his voice low as other students pass them. “I know they move around. But that’s where I felt something.”

Takashi’s eyes go wide. “Oh! You shouldn’t— It’s dangerous for you to—“

“I’m fine,” Kaname soothes. “I can feel them without getting too close. I didn’t even get a headache. And besides, this is useful for me, too.”

The headache he always has is slightly worse, but it’s nothing compared to his migraines. He can tolerate far worse than this, especially for Takashi. He’s eager for his neurologist appointment, though.

Takashi looks like he’s going to cry. But Kaname knows him well enough now to know that’s a good thing.

“Thank you,” Takashi says, quietly, and holds the paper close.

“Want to walk in together?” Kaname says. “We should avoid the main stairs.” He felt something there, after all.

Takashi looks overcome, happy in the saddest way. Like he can’t believe someone would actually do this for him. Like Kaname is the most amazing thing to ever happen to him.

Kaname feels lighter than air as he escorts Takashi to his classroom. He didn’t feel anything bad in there. He leaves Takashi in the care of Kitamoto and Nishimura.

Nishimura looks especially relieved by Takashi’s arrival. Kaname wonders if he’s had a close call with Takashi and a yokai, like Kitamoto has. Or maybe the threat of a human stalker is scary enough.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” Kaname says, and heads for his own class. He’s just a few steps down the hall when he sees Sasada.

He stops. So does she.

“Thank you,” he tells her, quietly. “And I’m really sorry about all this.”

“It’s okay,” Sasada says, sad but accepting. “I heard about the ‘stalker’. Just tell me— Is he safe?”

“We’re working on it,” Kaname says.

“I’m glad,” Sasada says. “I don’t know if there’s anything I can do. But if there is—“

“Thank you,” Kaname says. He glances at the wall clock. Class is about to start. “We’ll talk later?” Just because he can’t tell her everything, that doesn’t mean they can’t talk at all.

“Yes,” Sasada says, and looks a little less sad.

Kaname struggles to pay attention to his classes, and as soon as it’s lunchtime, he rushes up to the roof to make sure it’s safe.

Once the others arrive, he finds himself invited to the movie theater tonight. He happily accepts, even though Shigeru-san already called this morning to talk to Dad about it.

They need to keep Takashi safe, but without making him feel like he’s being punished. The solution that Dad and Shigeru-san worked out was to find things they can do together, as a family, as a group. Takashi’s interest in Natori Shuuichi movies was an unexpected but perfect excuse for an evening out together.

And then there’s the hydrangea festival this weekend. Shigeru-san had already suggested Takashi go with his friends, but Dad encouraged the Fujiwaras to be the ones to take him. If they want Takashi to see them as his family, they need to do more together, strengthen their bond with him.

And of course, Dad said he and Kaname would be there to help keep an eye out.

It’s Nishimura who seems the most interested in Natori Shuuichi, though. He talks about the actor straight through lunch, and Takashi doesn’t entirely seem to be paying attention. But Kaname isn’t really paying attention either. How can he, when Takashi looks so calm and content?

When classes end, Kaname goes right to Takashi’s classroom to meet them. And it’s a good thing he did, because Takashi is basically asleep on his feet. He must still be worn out from whatever happened with the yokai. Kaname keeps an eye out as they walk him home, but thankfully nothing bothers them. Takashi is so tired he doesn’t even notice when Ponta meets them along the way, ambling behind them.

Reluctantly, Kaname leaves Takashi with Touko-san and Ponta, and heads home.

Dad and Kaname arrive at the theater early to check for spirits. Dad gives a quiet lament that he can’t soothe the spirits the way he used to, to make places safe for Kaname. But they both know that’s no longer an option.

The Fujiwaras arrive with Takashi and Ponta. Takashi looks rested now, and quietly eager for the movie. Kitamoto and Nishimura join them, and Nishimura is almost vibrating with excitement as the movie starts.

Kaname’s sure he’s heard of Natori Shuuichi before today, but he’s not sure where. But plenty of people here knew about him, judging from the packed theater. What makes him curious is Takashi’s interest.

Kaname’s first impression of Natori-san is that he’s charming. Not just because of his role as a romantic lead. It’s a compelling charm, too. Glancing at the other audience members, he sees some girls looking absolutely besotted every time Natori-san appears.

Takashi isn’t swooning, but he’s absolutely fixated on the screen. His usual guarded restraint has fallen away, but Kaname isn’t sure what emotions are flickering across his face. Kaname looks at the screen and doesn’t know what Takashi could possibly be reacting to, except maybe to Natori-san himself.

Kaname suddenly wonders. Does Takashi like Natori-san— Like the swooning girls like Natori-san?

He stares at Natori-san’s image, feeling strange at the thought.

He looks at Takashi again. At Takashi’s open expression, his delicate features illuminated by the movie screen. He looks so—

And then Takashi notices Kaname watching him, and he turns. And that open expression and fixation is directed at Kaname.

Kaname’s entire face goes hot and he turns away. He stares at the movie screen even though all he can see is Takashi.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Takashi turn back to the screen, too.

When the movie ends, Nishimura immediately starts gushing about it. Everyone else seems to have enjoyed it, too. But Kaname couldn’t focus on the movie at all after Takashi looked at him.

Takashi’s expression is guarded again now that the lights are up. He’s smiling but he isn’t happy. But why? Is he sad that the movie is over? Or did he not like it after all, and doesn’t want to admit it?

When they get outside, Kaname asks if Takashi is okay.

“Of course,” Takashi says, still smiling. “The movie was great.”

But then his smile fades, and his real feelings peek out. And to Kaname’s surprise, Takashi looks genuinely distressed.

Kaname doesn’t know what to do. He looks down at Ponta, held close in Takashi’s arms, but the cat doesn’t help him at all. And then the Fujiwaras come over and take Takashi away with them.

“Did something happen?” Dad asks, as they head back to Yatsuhara.

“I don’t know,” Kaname admits. “The theater felt pretty safe. He seemed to like the movie. I don’t know why he was upset.”

“Perhaps the movie reminded him of something unpleasant?” Dad offers.

“Maybe,” Kaname sighs. He thought he’d found a way to help Takashi, to keep him safe, or at least safer. But there are spirits he can’t sense that could still cause problems. And Takashi’s whole complicated history— Kaname barely knows anything about it, except that it was bad. How can he help if he doesn’t know what’s wrong?

He’s so distressed by Takashi’s distress that it’s not until he’s in bed that night, staring at the watery reflection of moonlight on his ceiling, that he can think about everything else that happened in the theater.

He’s never felt like this about anyone before. But he’s never met anyone like Takashi before, in so many ways.

Kaname wants to be with him all the time. Wants to make him smile, to make him happy. It hurts when Takashi pulls away, scares him when Takashi disappears, when he’s sick and injured. And the smallest things about Takashi are so wonderful.

And when he thought about Takashi liking Natori-san, liking him—

It upsets him. It makes him feel like Takashi’s being taken away from him, even though that’s ridiculous. Natori-san is just an actor in a movie. He’s not part of their lives, he doesn’t share all the things they share together.

Kaname thinks about Takashi’s face, illuminated by the movie screen. Takashi is pretty, everyone knows that. When Kaname first came to Yatsuhara and started hearing all the rumors, when people weren’t talking about how Takashi can see ghosts or calling him crazy, they were talking about how pretty or handsome he is. Kaname didn’t pay much attention to that part, he’s never really thought about people that way.

But tonight, Takashi looked beautiful.

It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow. Kaname groans and rolls over, and tells himself to go to sleep.

The local hydrangea festival is being held in a shrine.

Not the whole festival, obviously. All of Hitoyoshi is participating in some way, with beautiful flowers all over town. But the center, the stalls and performance space, will be safely inside.

Dad was originally going to help out anyway, but with all the Takashi trouble, he’d told them he couldn’t make it. He’s happy to be involved after all.

Kaname’s helped out with a lot of festivals, and his dad always blessed the festival grounds for him. He realizes now, with hindsight, why he would end up with especially bad migraines afterwards, even when he spent the whole event on sacred ground. He tries not to think about crowds of angry yokai following him home for revenge.

His head definitely aches as they approach the festival grounds. There are a lot of yokai around, and festivals are even more chaotic than schools. They just have to rely on Ponta to keep Takashi safe until he goes through the torii gate. Kaname’s eager to get to safety himself.

Once inside, Kaname sighs with relief.

“All clear?” Dad asks.

“I think so.”

“Good. Excellent,” Dad says. “I’m going to go strengthen the barriers. Just to be safe. You start helping with the booths, I’ll join you when I’m done.”

Kaname likes volunteering. He usually did it with the other monks they lived with. It’s an easy way to connect with people, to become a part of each new community they’ve moved to, at least for a while.

This is his first festival since he moved to Hitoyoshi. Some of the faces here are already a little familiar, but as he helps at each booth, he gets to know them better. People who run the shops in town, or make things at home to sell. Most people have family helping them, and he recognizes a student or two from school.

Dad said he wants them to put down roots. If they can really stay here— People will come and go, but— Kaname won’t be saying goodbye to this community in a year or two. They won’t just be photos he looks back on, wishing he could have stayed, could have truly belonged.

It’s a little scary, actually. The permanence of it. Even though nothing is truly permanent and life is constant change. It feels like his friendship with Takashi feels. There’s so much more weight to every interaction. So much that can go better and worse than everything he’s had to leave behind.

He works his way around the festival while they wait for the Fujiwaras to arrive with Takashi. Not having a migraine or fever for at least a week certainly helped Kaname’s energy levels. And being fairly sure he won’t spend the evening after the festival in agony puts him in a very good mood.

When Takashi arrives, Kaname can feel it. Even though Takashi’s spirit-feeling is similar to the shrine’s, Kaname just knows he’s here.

He’s walking over even before his dad calls and waves to him. Takashi’s standing right there with the Fujiwaras and Ponta. When they turn to him, Takashi looks cautiously happy. Kaname smiles.

“We’re due for a break,” Dad tells them. “How about we join you?”

Kaname pairs up with Takashi and they start browsing the booths together. All the people that Kaname just helped welcome him back warmly, and offer them small gifts in thanks for Kaname’s help.

Takashi seems genuinely surprised and delighted by everything, whether it’s the trinkets or the ice cream. Like he’s never been to a festival before. The idea of it makes Kaname’s breath catch. Surely Takashi’s life hasn’t been as terrible as that.

But then he thinks of Takashi’s bare bedroom, and the rumors. And he has a terrible fear that it was.

Either way, he wants this to be a wonderful day for Takashi, for him to be safe and happy and experience everything good the festival has to offer.

They go to the performance area for the show, and meet up with Kitamoto and Nishimura, and Kitamoto’s family. They were probably going to be here at the festival anyway, but Kaname wonders if Shigeru-san arranged for them to be here now.

The four of them sit together, and Takashi ends up between Kaname and Nishimura, with Ponta settled on his lap. Kaname can’t help but notice how Takashi’s knee is pressed against his. Like how Takashi’s arm was pressed against his in the movie theater.

Kitamoto and Nishimura scan the crowd, on alert for unfamiliar faces that might be Takashi’s “stalker.” Kaname wishes he could tell them the truth, but he’s also touched by how much they care. And besides, even if they did know, there wouldn’t be anything they could do.

But Kaname can. He closes his eyes and feels for any yokai around them. But the shrine’s protection is strong. Kaname relaxes, and catches Nishimura’s eye, and gives him a nod to say he doesn’t see any trouble.

All of them relax and enjoy the show.

The whole group has lunch together, after, and then all too soon it’s over. Nishimura leaves with the Kitamotos. Takashi looks worn out, but in a good way, or at least Kaname hopes so. It’s time for the Fujiwaras to take him home.

“I had a great time,” Kaname tells him. “Maybe— We could do something tomorrow? At my place?”

Yatsuhara is the safest place for Takashi right now. If they want to keep him out of trouble, that’s where he should be.

“Sure,” Takashi says.

And then he looks directly at Kaname, and there’s an openness to him like there was last night. It’s different, but just as powerful.

“I had a really great time today,” he says, quiet but heartfelt. With an air of astonishment and awe and—

Like this moment together is something he truly cherishes.

It makes Kaname feel utterly knocked off his feet.

“Um. Yeah. Me too,” Kaname manages.

Takashi smiles, somehow bold and shy at once, and so sweet.

And Kaname realizes, all of a sudden, that he wants to kiss him.

Oh.

Kaname blushes hard.

He looks down to avoid Takashi’s eyes, and Ponta is staring up at him. It feels like the cat can see how Kaname feels right now, like he’s staring right into Kaname’s soul.

Kaname blushes harder. All the blood rushing to his face makes him lightheaded.

“Are you okay?” Takashi asks, concerned.

“Yes,” Kaname squeaks. “Um. Just a little tired.”

“Yeah, me too,” Takashi says. And then he yawns.

“We’d better get you home,” Touko-san says. “Thank you, it’s been such a wonderful day!”

“Our pleasure,” Dad says.

And then Kaname is waving goodbye as they walk away.

Chapter Text

Kaname gets an early start to the day by biking down to the Fujiwaras. It’s an easy ride in this direction, and going fast helps him feel out any yokai trouble along the way, without being exposed to it for long enough to bother him.

But as he approaches the Fujiwara house, his heart is racing like he just pedaled fast all the way uphill.

What he felt yesterday— It’s probably nothing. His brain is so used to suffering on a regular basis, it must be confused by the absence of suffering.

He’s going to see Takashi, and he’s going to feel totally normal about him. Like he feels about Sasada or Nishimura or Kitamoto. He likes them, cares about them, enjoys being with them and wants their friendships to deepen. But that’s all. And that’s all he feels for Takashi, too. He’s not going to ruin their friendship, which is so new and fragile, with something that isn’t even real.

He knocks on the front door.

Takashi opens the door. He looks warily around, obviously checking for threats. Then he looks directly at Kaname and smiles.

Oh no.

Kaname tries very hard not to blush, and fails at that, too.

After Kaname greets the Fujiwaras, Takashi grabs his bike and the two of them — with Ponta in Takashi’s basket — ride through the flatter streets together. When the road gets steep, they both dismount to walk.

There were a few spots along the way here where Kaname felt something strong enough to be a concern. He hopes those yokai have moved on already, but he stays on alert. Takashi was probably on alert from the moment he was born, and their conversation trickles off as they both watch for danger.

And then Takashi stops, looks at the sky between the trees. “Ookaze?” he murmurs.

Kaname looks up, too. But he doesn’t see anything unusual. “Do you see something?”

Takashi’s eyes follow something down to the ground. Then he tenses, wary. “It’s an umbrella.”

“Ponta?” Kaname asks.

Ponta sniffs the air. “Smells like a weakling. Just ignore it.”

Takashi hesitates, still staring at the spirit umbrella. For a moment, it actually seems like he’s going to go over and investigate it. But then he turns away. “We’ll go around.”

Kaname follows as Takashi gives the spirit umbrella a wide berth. But just as it seems like they’re clear of it, Takashi yelps and fall to the ground. His bike falls into Kaname’s, almost knocking him over, and Ponta jumps out of the basket.

Just as Kaname untangles himself and moves to help, Takashi swings his fist and it seems to connect. Takashi pushes himself back up and glares angrily at the invisible spirit. “I told you to stop!”

Ponta assesses the scene. “Like I said, a weakling. Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to— It attacked him!” Kaname protests.

Ponta ignores him.

“What do you want?” Takashi asks the spirit, annoyed.

Kaname can’t hear its response, but whatever it is, it softens Takashi’s expression.

“Asagi?” Ponta says. “I’ve heard that name before. The beautiful lute player of Isozuki forest, a mythical land where noble gods gather. Is that her?”

Ponta and Takashi both listen as the yokai says something else. Kaname strains to see or hear anything, but the yokai must truly be too weak for that. Takashi’s expression softens further, and Kaname wonders if Takashi’s about to run off with the spirit to help it. Whatever happens, Kaname has to stay with him.

But then Takashi yelps and falls as the spirit attacks him again! Takashi struggles but can’t seem to get a punch in this time. And Ponta’s still just sitting there, being absolutely useless.

Kaname’s had enough. He can’t touch spirits on his own, but—

He grabs Takashi’s arm with one hand, and with the other he reaches out.

He makes contact! He feels fabric under his hand. The spirit feels like a human, a man!

Kaname plants his foot back so it touches Takashi, and lets go of Takashi’s arm so he can use both hands. This yokai is determined but— Like Ponta said. It’s a weakling.

“Leave him alone!” Kaname yells. He might not be able to hear the spirit, but the spirit can absolutely hear him.

He dusts off his old judo training and drops the spirit to the ground.

“Kaname!” Takashi cries.

“Not bad,” Ponta says, sounding mildly impressed.

Kaname stands protectively in front of Takashi, braced for another round. But then Takashi and Ponta both relax. “Is it gone? It’s gone?”

“Yes,” Takashi says, relieved. Then he leaps up and rounds on Kaname, upset. “Don’t try to protect me like that! What if something happened to you?!”

“Something was happening to you!” Kaname counters.

He’s astonished at his actions himself. He was lucky the umbrella yokai was so weak. If it hadn’t run away, if it had attacked again—

But he couldn’t just stand there while Takashi was being hurt. He couldn’t.

Takashi struggles for a response, then sighs. “Yes. Well. Thank you. But next time, please let Nyanko-sensei handle it?”

“I was totally about to handle it,” Ponta declares.

“Let’s get to Yatsuhara,” Kaname says.

They pick up their bikes and resume their climb, walking faster now.

“So what did it want from you?” Kaname asks, curious about what the yokai said.

“Nothing,” Takashi says. But then— “He was carrying another yokai. Asagi. She’s sick, she— She needs a new vessel.”

“A new vessel?” Kaname echoes, trying to understand. And then it clicks. “You?”

Takashi gives an unhappy nod.

“Well she can’t have you,” Kaname declares. Just the idea of some yokai possessing him—

Takashi gives a small smile in response, but then it fades. “I feel kinda bad for them, though. He just wants her to be able to play again.”

Kaname feels a reluctant twinge of sympathy himself. He knows what it’s like to be too sick to do anything.

Is this how Takashi ends up helping spirits? It’s a lot like what happened with Santo. An initial attack, and then a sad plea for help— And when there’s no one else who can see them—

If that yokai comes back—

“But could you actually let some yokai possess you?” Kaname asks.

Takashi goes quiet.

He’s actually considering it?

Kaname was focused on keeping yokai from attacking Takashi, to keep him safe. But if Takashi seeks them out— And then he gets hurt again— The situation with the Fujiwaras is only going to get messier.

They really do need to keep Takashi so busy with human things that he doesn’t have time to run off with yokai. At least until they can get Takashi to tell the Fujiwaras the rest of the truth. But they can’t even go for a walk without trouble finding them.

They reach Yatsuhara and park their bikes. At least Takashi is safe here.

In the kitchen, Dad is preparing the morning’s offerings. The three of them go to the shrine together, make their offerings together. Kaname watches half of Takashi’s food disappear, just like his own.

And he decides, whatever these new feelings are—

This new, healthier life that Kaname is living— Takashi gave it to him. A gift this impossibly huge— Kaname can’t really ever repay it. But he can devote this life to Takashi. To being his friend, being there for him, protecting him. Whatever it takes.

Later, while Takashi is off using the toilet, Kaname has a moment alone with Ponta.

“That yokai from before,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Why did he want to use Takashi as a vessel?”

“Asagi is weak,” Ponta says. “She needs a vessel with spiritual power.”

“Do they want to keep Takashi’s body?” Kaname asks.

“Asagi only wants to play the koto one last time,” Ponta says. “So probably not.”

Kaname gives a considering hum. “That doesn’t sound too bad. Do you think— Would my body have enough spiritual power?”

Ponta eyes narrow. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Why not?” Kaname asks. If he can deal with this himself, keep Takashi out of it—

“Once you’ve been possessed, it will be easier for other yokai to possess you,” Ponta warns. “If you have any sense at all, you’ll stay out of it.”

“But if Takashi gets possessed, then—“

“Too late,” Ponta says. “And he’s so powerful it doesn’t make a difference. Yokai want him anyway.”

Kaname doesn’t like the sound of any of that.

“They’ll probably try again,” Ponta says. “I’ll keep them away from Natsume. But they got a sniff of you, too. Don’t do anything stupid and they’ll move on, and find someone else to possess.”

Kaname doesn’t like the sound of that either. It’s irresponsible, letting someone else suffer, probably worse because they won’t know what’s going on. And how many other spiritually powerful people are even out there? Everyone Kaname knows is right here in this house.

Takashi’s returning footsteps put an end to the discussion.

Kitamoto and Nishimura arrive soon after, and the rest of the day is dedicated to making the new vegetable garden beds. Turning over the soil, amending it with compost, putting down weed barrier. It’s a lot of work, and Kaname might have put the Asagi situation completely out of his mind.

Except—

Takashi is the weakest of them, and tires easy. So he ends up resting in the shade with Nyanko-sensei. And while he’s there, he keeps looking around at the edges of the forest.

Kaname can tell there’s yokai, even without following Takashi’s gaze. With the stronger ones, he can feel them, even see blurry shadows. Yokai really are drawn to Takashi like moths to a flame. They don’t cross the barrier here. But outside of Yatsuhara—

He just has to hope that the exorcist they’re sending is actually helpful.

When the garden work is finished for the day, and they’ve all had a chance to rest and recover, Kaname rides his bike back down with his friends. They escort Takashi home, then Kitamoto and Nishimura head to their homes, too.

And then Kaname is alone.

Ponta is probably right. Kaname should absolutely stay safe in Yatsuhara and let Asagi and her caretaker move on. The last thing he should do is offer up his body to a yokai, and make it easier for other yokai to possess him.

But if those other yokai possess him instead of Takashi—

If he can lighten Takashi’s burdens just a little—

He walks his bike up the steep road home and stops where the umbrella yokai appeared that morning. And he gathers his courage.

Being friends with Takashi will mean facing worse spirits than these. It already has.

“If you need a vessel with power,” Kaname says, trying to keep his voice from trembling. “If mine is enough and— It’s just for a little while— Then use me instead of him. Please.”

He stand there and waits to feel something. But he couldn’t perceive the umbrella yokai before, not without Takashi’s help. He has no idea if his body has enough power to be useful. He has no idea if he said all that to absolutely nothing.

He can’t wait here all night. How will he know if it happens? What does possession even feel like?

A sudden wave of dizziness drops him to his knees.

Oh.

It feels like this.

He has to get home.

Once he’s fairly sure he can stay conscious, he drags his bike upright and leans heavily on it as he walks the rest of the way home. He drops the bike at the gate and staggers inside.

Should he go into the shrine? If he does, will it hurt Asagi?

He falls to his knees again.

“Kaname!” Dad hurries up, and—

“My bedroom,” Kaname says, fighting against the urge to pass out, though he knows it’s coming. “Not the shrine. Bedroom. Please!”

“Yes, all right,” Dad agrees, pulling him up. “But Kaname— Your hair, your eyes— They’re glowing blue!”

Blue?

It has to be Asagi. It has to be.

It worked.

“Good,” he musters, and passes out.

Consciousness dips in and out. In moments of clarity, he sees his father’s concerned face leaning over him, feels his caring touch.

But then his senses fade away again, and all he knows is the thing inside him.

He hurts. He aches all over and feels strangely heavy and overfull, like he ate a huge festival meal except it was made of rocks. And the thing inside him hurts, too. Not because of him, but because it was already suffering.

Asagi.

She’s still small and tightly bound, afraid. She doesn’t want to hurt him.

He reaches out to her, welcomes her. Tells her it’s okay, that he wants this, he’s willing.

Whatever power he has, he’ll share it with her.

She accepts and—

If he thought he was too full before—

She’s so huge it feels like his body is about to burst open. He’s afraid he made a terrible mistake.

But then the fullness eases. She settles into him, and he into her. Unfamiliar images and thoughts trickle into his mind. He sees finely-dressed people in a lush forest; he hears snatches of elegant music.

Her pain fades away as his body becomes hers, becomes theirs.

He opens their eyes, and feels her seeing with him.

It’s night, but the room is lit by a gentle blue light. Kaname realizes it’s coming from their body. And then the light fades away.

There’s someone standing over them. A man, familiar and unfamiliar. Dad? No, Dad’s asleep on the floor.

As their eyes adjust, they can see the man is wearing somewhat battered robes. The upper half of his head is wrapped in bandages, with tufts of hair peeking out, and one staring eye. He has a gourd tied to a loop of rope, and a large folded umbrella.

The umbrella yokai?

They can see him?!

Yes. And they know his name.

“Akagane?” Kaname asks.

“You must have assimilated very well to already know my name,” says Akagane. “I don’t care for humans. But you gave yourself freely for Asagi’s sake. For that we owe you our gratitude.”

“You’re welcome,” Kaname says. “Thank you for leaving my friend alone.”

“A willing host is better anyway,” Akagane says. He leans closer. “Asagi. How do you feel?”

“Better, thank you,” Asagi says, smiling. It’s a surreal to feel someone else moving his face, his body. But it’s their body now, their face, at least for a while. “And thank you, Kaname-sama.”

“It’s been so long since I saw you smile,” Akagane says. His expression is mostly obscured by the bandages, but it’s turned softer, calmer.

Kaname feels a sudden affection for him. No, not sudden. Asagi’s affection isn’t new.

It’s so strange. Just hours ago, he could barely perceive them at all. He only knew them as a threat to Takashi. And now—

Now it feels like he’s always known Akagane. Like he’s always been Asagi. And the things that should only be familiar, like his bedroom, are also new and strange. Like the priest on the floor who’s waking up.

“Dad!” Kaname startles. “Okay, um.” He gestures at Akagane. “Dad, this is Akagane, he’s a yokai. Akagane, this is my dad.”

“A yokai?” Dad says, alarmed. He looks at where Kaname gestured, but of course he can’t see anything. “What’s going on? Why were you glowing?”

“I’m uh— Possessed,” Kaname admits. “Sorry.”

“Possessed?!”

“It’s okay,” Kaname insists. “I volunteered. The yokai inside me, Asagi, she needs my help so she can play music again.”

The whole thing sounds a little less sane when he says it aloud.

“Music?” Dad echoes, overwhelmed. “Tell me how you’re feeling. You were getting warm before. If you have a fever—“

He reaches out and touches Kaname’s forehead, like he’s done countless times. But this time, it’s not just Kaname’s. And when they make contact—

“Oh!” Dad startles, and pull his hand away. He startles again.

“What just happened?” Kaname asks. He felt something, but—

“You were a girl with long blue hair,” Dad says, shocked. “Is that— Asagi?”

He reaches out again and grips their arm.

His touch pulls at Asagi, bringing her even more forward.

“Asagi?” Dad asks.

“Yes,” Asagi answers. “I apologize for possessing your son. He is kind and generous. I promise he will come to no harm.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” Dad says. He lets go, and Asagi settles back again, then further. She’s worn out from all the excitement.

“I think she needs to rest,” Kaname tells them. He probably should, too, but at the moment he feels wide awake. Whatever fever was building, it’s gone now. Is possession— Good for him? Like the shrine?

“Akagane,” he says. “What do we need to do, so Asagi can play the koto again?”

“You absolute idiot.”

Takashi is standing in the doorway, with a bottle of sake in his hand.

No, not Takashi. It’s Ponta in his Takashi form.

“I took this form because my offering wasn’t being offered,” Takashi-Ponta tells them. “You try opening a bottle without opposable thumbs. And I see my sage advice isn’t being heeded, either.” He takes a swig.

“Nyanko-sensei,” Dad says. He stands and gives an apologetic bow. “My apologies. Things have been a little—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Takashi-Ponta says, waving it all away. “Don’t worry, I’m taking the rest of this bottle for my trouble. I was going to tell you about the amazing job I did keeping these idiots away from Natsume, but they never showed. Because you were busy being a bigger idiot.”

“If I didn’t help them, Takashi was going to,” Kaname says.

“Probably,” Takashi-Ponta shrugs. He turns to Dad. “But now you’re gonna ask me how to get her out of him. And the answer is I can’t, not without harming the idiot. So he’s stuck fulfilling her wish.”

“This music business doesn’t sound so bad,” Dad offers.

“Maybe not,” Takashi-Ponta allows. He turns back to Kaname. “But the moment Natsume sees you, he’s gonna know something’s up. He’s an idiot too so he might not figure it out right away. But that’s your mess, not mine.”

“Ugh, you’re right,” Kaname groans. If the whole point of this is to keep Takashi away from yokai— Once he knows, there’s no way he won’t get involved. “Is there any way we could take care of this before morning?”

“We must start by making the instrument,” Akagane declares. “It must be crafted of the finest materials. For the strings, we must find a natural pond that contains carp-shaped yokai called senbiki. They bear a white line on their forehead.”

“Yokai carp?” Kaname asks, hopeful. “What about the ones in that pond over there?” He points at one in the backyard.

Akagane goes over and stares at the pond. “No,” he says, and turns back to them. “They’re very territorial, so there’s only one per pond. There are several possible ponds in the area.”

“Oh,” Kaname says, disappointed. And what do fish have to do with koto strings, even magic ones? “What else do we need?”

“For the body, we must find a tree stump pierced by a bamboo shoot,” Akagane continues.

“Where are we going to we find that?” Kaname asks, alarmed.

“These are the materials that I must use to craft a koto just like the one Asagi used to play,” Akagane says. “Nothing else will do.”

“I am an idiot,” Kaname realizes.

Takashi-Ponta gives a long-suffering sigh, and takes another swig.

“Kaname,” Dad says. “Perhaps it would be best to tell Takashi the truth. Hiding what you’re going through to avoid upsetting him— Isn’t that exactly what he’s doing to the Fujiwaras?”

“Yeah,” Kaname admits. “I know. I know! But what if he reacts like he did with Sasada? We just need a little time.“

A little time to find a magic fish and a bamboo tree stump.

Dad considers the problem. “You do have that neurologist appointment tomorrow. I suppose— I could take you out for the whole day. Being possessed certainly counts for a sick day.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Great!” Kaname says, with optimism he doesn’t quite feel. “We’ll get an early start first thing. Start visiting ponds. See the—“

The fish.

Kaname turns to face the backyard again.

It’s not just that he can see Akagane.

He can see the pond.

Kaname stumbles out of bed and walks out onto the engawa, onto the grass.

It’s not just the pond. Where there was only short grass, he can see the plants that Takashi talked about, the overgrown garden. He can see the disturbed soil at the edge of the pond where the weeds were pulled out. He can see red koi swimming in lazy circles.

“Is this because of you?” he asks Asagi.

“You welcomed me inside you,” Asagi says, her voice in their head. “For now, we are one.”

“And when you leave?” Kaname asks.

“Then you will be yourself again,” Asagi says in their head. “I can leave behind only my thanks.”

“Oh.” Kaname kneels at the water’s edge. He reaches out, then down. When their fingers break the water’s surface, the koi swim up to them, curious, hungry, thinking they’re being fed. Their mouths tickle as they suck at their skin.

Maybe—

Maybe it’s not a bad thing if this takes a while.

Chapter Text

For Kaname’s whole life, the spirit world has been just out of reach. It’s been feelings, shadows. Glimpses at the corners of his eyes. Whispers at the edge of his hearing. Sometimes he wondered if he got migraines because he was constantly straining for more, for a clear voice, a solid figure, anything.

And now he doesn’t have to strain. He can sit back and relax and take in every detail.

They sit where Takashi sat, under a tree by the vegetable garden, and watch the yokai on the other side of the barrier. Yokai aren’t drawn to them the way they are to Takashi. Mostly they’re just passing by as they make their nightly travels, and if they notice them, sitting there quietly — or their silent guardian, Akagane — they only give curious looks before continuing on.

Kaname desperately wants to talk to the yokai, to follow them, to learn everything about them. He’s been storing up curiosity for fifteen years, and what he sees only makes him want to know more.

But he’s spent enough time with Takashi to know that leaving the safety of Yatsuhara right now would be a bad idea. And not just for his own sake. He has a life inside of him to protect, the life that’s making this experience possible. He’s seeing the spirit world through Asagi’s eyes, and when she leaves, he’ll be all but blind and deaf again.

He should try to get some sleep, like Asagi and Dad. Being possessed is surprisingly tiring. They have to go searching for a magical fish and a tree stump once the sun comes up. But he can’t bring himself to close their eyes.

After sunrise, Akagane is impatient to get going. But they have to wait until a reasonable hour so Kaname can call Takashi.

“Good morning,” Takashi answers.

He sounds happy, and Kaname feels awful about having to lie to him, and awful about not being able to see him today. With Asagi’s sight, it would be so easy to help Takashi avoid the yokai at school.

Or wait, would it be harder now? Akagane’s odd-looking, but he could certainly pass for human. Maybe it really is easy to get confused.

“Hey,” Kaname says. “I just wanted to tell you— I’m going to my neurologist today. There was an early opening, so I won’t be at school today.”

“Oh!” Takashi says, surprised. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kaname says. “Actually, it’s— I’m getting a new headache medication. To help with, you know— Not the migraines, nothing stops that, but—“

Takashi doesn’t answer. Worry knots their stomach.

“Really, this is a good thing,” Kaname insists. “If it works, I’ll feel a lot better. I probably should have tried this a long time ago, but I’ve always been so focused on my migraines, and they’re different from headaches.” He stops himself before he rambles on about the differences. He wishes he could see Takashi’s face right now. “Now that we have the shrine to manage the big stuff, I can take care of the little stuff. But I’m sorry I won’t get to see you today. It’s a long drive, we’ll get back late. Um. I hope you’ll be safe at school.”

“I’ll be okay,” Takashi says, softly. He doesn’t sound happy anymore, but at least he isn’t being painfully polite, which would have been a bad sign. “I hope the medicine helps. I’ll—“

He cuts off, but there’s a vulnerable tremor in his voice that strikes right into their heart.

Kaname desperately wants to see him, to tell him everything, to— To hold him close. But he can’t.

These stupid feelings— He has to stop feeling them.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, though,” Kaname says, forcing himself to sound cheerful. “We can walk into school together again.”

Another pause, and then— “I’d like that.” And Takashi sounds happy again.

They say goodbye, and Kaname leans back against the wall, overcome.

“Takashi,” says Asagi, in their head. “He’s the powerful one you defended.”

“Yeah,” Kaname sighs.

“You care for him,” Asagi says in their head.

Kaname blushes. “We’re just friends. But— Yeah.”

“Enough waiting!” Akagane declares. “To the ponds!”

Akagane does not like being in a car. But he also refuses to leave Kaname and Asagi’s side, so he crouches in the back seat and glowers at the vehicle interior, as if to intimidate it into behaving. He also glowers at the passing cars, bicycles, and everything else involving humans.

Kaname stares out the windows in awe of everything that isn’t human. Yokai are everywhere all the time, and now he can see exactly how true that is. He’s always been able to sense powerful spirits, but now he can see the little ones too, and there’s so many of them. They fly through the air, hang on buildings and trees, scurry across streets, even hitch rides on oblivious people.

He doesn’t think they’re possessing the people, or hurting them. But the truth is he has no idea. He think there’s more people in traditional dress than usual. He thinks the greenery all looks lusher, denser, like there’s more plants and trees, and flowers he doesn’t recognize. Are they all spirits, too?

All he can do is soak everything in.

He catches their reflection in the mirror, and sees Asagi. She’s very beautiful, with blue hair and blue eyes. But even when she smiles, she looks sad.

She reminds him of Takashi.

Kaname gives a heartfelt sigh.

“Something wrong?” Dad asks, glancing at him.

“Just tired.”

Kaname knows he can talk to his dad about anything. But he wants these feelings to go away. Being Takashi’s friend is complicated enough. Could Takashi even like him back that way? What if it makes him uncomfortable? What if it ruins everything?

Kaname’s life used to be simple. Being chronically ill is a kind of forced monkhood. There was just so much he was unable to do, because of his health or his sensitivity, or because they were always moving on in search of a cure.

He used to dream about what would happen after they finally did find a cure. Just like that, everything would change. He would be healthy. He would forget about the spirits. They would stay where they were and he would make friends and effortlessly fit in with everyone else.

He would be normal.

But after so many disappointments, he gave up on that dream. There would never be a cure. He was always going to be sick and scared. And even though there were so many things he wanted to do with his life, he would never be able to do them.

And then Takashi came into his life and turned everything upside-down.

The shrine treatment is probably as close to a cure as he’ll ever get. But it won’t make him normal. Does he even want that anymore? What’s normal now, when he has Takashi in his life? When at this very moment he’s possessed by a yokai and can see the spirit world in every detail?

Even after Asagi leaves. Even if someday he finally loses his own sensitivity. How could he ever forget about any of this? How could he pretend the mundane world is all that matters?

His feelings for Takashi— He’s never been interested in anyone like this before, and he didn’t think he ever would be. They must be a reaction to all the sudden changes in his life. Once he adjusts, they’ll go away. Things will get back to— Whatever normal is now.

They reach the first pond. It’s time to search for a yokai fish so they can make a magic koto.

Normal. Right.

“So how do we do this?” Kaname asks. He hopes that his limited fishing experience will be useful. But Akagane didn’t say anything about needing a pole or net or bait.

Akagane starts tucking the ends of his robes into his belt. “We go into the pond and find the senbiki. Then we catch it!”

“What, bare handed?” Kaname says, alarmed.

But Akagane is already rushing into the water with a determined cry.

Kaname sighs and starts rolling up his pants.

They wade around the pond endlessly. They manage to catch quite a few fish, but none of them are yokai fish with a white line on their foreheads.

Kaname drags himself to shore, soaked, frustrated, and exhausted.

“Any luck?” Dad asks, and hands him a towel. There’s not much he can do to help catch the senbiki, but Kaname is grateful that he’s here.

Kaname groans into the towel. He lies down on the grass, utterly done. “Tired.”

“Is Akagane ready to try another pond?” Dad asks.

Kaname peeks out from the towel. Akagane is still wading around, flailing at the water. Don’t yokai ever get tired? He lets the towel fall back down.

“No.”

Dad checks his watch. “We have some time before we have to drive to your appointment. Why don’t you get a little sleep?”

Kaname is too busy falling asleep to agree.

He dreams of a beautiful sunny forest. He sees Asagi there, sitting peacefully on a blanket. There are others with her, but he can’t make out their faces.

Except one. Akagane.

His clothes look clean and new, but his head is still bandaged. He’s holding the same umbrella, shading over Asagi.

And a feeling comes over Kaname, soft and familiar.

“What is he to you?” he wonders, and finds himself asking aloud. “Are you two—“

The Asagi under the umbrella gives a soft laugh, amused by the suggestion. “Isozuku Forest,” she replies. “It was a beautiful place, but dangerous. The god of the forest, Mibu-sama— He brought talented people to live with him, to play music to calm the forest.”

Suddenly, one of the people nearby changes into a monstrous form. It lunges right at Asagi, but before it can reach her—

Dream Akagane strikes out with his umbrella and slices the monster in half.

“Akagane’s duty was to protect everyone as a bodyguard,” Asagi continues. “He’s very strong, you see. And kind. After I left, he came to find me. He was worried.”

The dream ends. They’re waking up.

Asagi opens their eyes, and they sit up. She looks at Akagane, still splashing in the water, and he can feel her fondness.

Ever since they left Isozuku Forest, Akagane’s been devoted to her. Maybe even before that. Does she really think that’s only because it’s his duty?

But at Kaname’s thought, she grows sad again, and withdraws inside him.

There’s no senbiki in the first pond. They’ll have to try the other ones, but first they have to go to Kaname’s neurologist.

Sitting in the exam room, Asagi returns again. He can feel her curiosity as he talks to the doctor, as the doctor examines them. If anyone at the office notices that he smells like he was splashing around in a pond all morning, they keep tactfully silent.

They leave with his new prescription and head for the pharmacy.

“Human healers are very different from ours,” Asagi says in their head. “Are they powerful? Is this a cure?”

“To be honest, they haven’t been able to help me much,” Kaname admits, in their head. But maybe this time— “I guess your healers couldn’t help you either?”

“No,” Asagi says, sadly. “Isozuku Forest— I thought I would live there for the rest of my life. I wanted to stay there forever, in that beautiful place, by Mibu-sama’s side. And now it feels like a dream I’ve woken up from, and will never see again.”

“I’m sorry,” Kaname says. “Did they make you leave? Because you couldn’t play anymore?” He doesn’t know much about what happened to her.

“No,” Asagi says. “Mibu-sama took me in when I had nowhere to go. It was I who could not stand my inability to serve him.”

As soon as they get the new medication, Kaname takes the first dose. It’ll take time to start working, but it’s hard to think of a better test of his spirit tolerance than a benign possession.

The next pond does have a yokai in it, but it’s not a fish. It’s the size of a whale, but it’s a huge head with long wavy hair. It has a wide, toothy grin, big enough to swallow them whole.

Kaname scrambles out of the water as the creature rushes towards them. He drags his dad away from the shoreline but before the yokai can chase them up onto land, Akagane leaps on it.

The two yokai disappear under the water. Kaname stares at the pond, feeling Asagi’s worry as they watch and wait. They both feel a surge of relief as Akagane bursts back out of the water.

“The beast has been subdued!” Akagane declares, victorious. Then he frowns. “But it was a ravenous monster. If there was a senbiki here, it must have eaten it. We must search the next pond!”

“Great,” Kaname says, weakly. He’s not sure he can face more wading in ponds right now. But if they don’t finish today—

He tells his dad what’s going on.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Dad decides. “We’re going home.

“What?! We must find the senbiki at once!” Akagane protests.

Kaname relays that to his dad.

“Are Asagi or Kaname in danger, if they remain together for a while longer?” Dad asks. “I understand the importance of our task. But Kaname’s life is also important. Please help us to find a balance.”

Akagane reluctantly agrees to go home.

“Thank you,” Dad says.

Kaname is grateful too. He’s wet and tired and his head aches. He just wants to go home and rest. Except— “If I go to school like this— Takashi will notice.”

Maybe it won’t be right away. Maybe Asagi can sleep while he’s at school so she’s less noticeable. Maybe Akagane can hide out of sight.

He wanted to keep Takashi away from yokai trouble.

“His behavior last week gave us all a scare,” Dad says. “I know you want to protect him. You volunteered to be possessed for his sake. But for whatever reason, he’s compelled to help spirits. Perhaps it will help him if we do this together.”

Kaname reluctantly agrees.

At least if Takashi wants to help these yokai, he has to do it where Kaname can see him.

Chapter Text

Takashi spends the whole day at school worrying about Kaname.

He shouldn’t. Everything is fine. Kaname has a perfectly normal doctor’s appointment. He’ll be back at school tomorrow. Maybe he’ll meet Takashi at the school gate again, with a list of dangerous places, and walk him safely to class. Then they’ll have lunch together, and then they’ll spend the whole afternoon together.

And then the next day, they’ll get to do it all again.

But he wishes Kaname was here now. He wishes he could see him and know that he’s okay. Kaname’s safer away from Takashi anyway, but— Something could still happen.

Something always happens.

Things have been calm for a few days, but that only means trouble is around the corner. Maybe that pair of yokai will come back and try to possess him again. He mentioned it to Nyanko-sensei this morning, but the cat wasn’t worried. But if it’s not those two, it’ll be something else.

Takashi stares out the window and gives a long, heartfelt sigh.

When Nyanko-sensei meets them at the gate after school, Takashi wonders if the cat is more worried about those two yokai than he wants to admit. But then Nishimura and Kitamoto take them into town to play at the arcade, and for a while Takashi stops worrying and has fun.

Without Kaname there, it’s Nishimura he ends up gravitating towards. Takashi feels a little bad for neglecting their friendship. Not that they aren’t together all day long at school, and a lot of their free time, too. But there was a brief moment when Nishimura was his only friend in Hitoyoshi. They learned to fold origami together. It felt so special to share that with him.

Takashi wishes they could share more.

He knows nothing has changed. He can’t let the human side of his life mix with the yokai side. Kaname is human, but he’s not a normal human. He’s been able to sense spirits his whole life. Half his offerings disappear.

Any time the spirit world has hurt the people around Takashi, it’s been his own fault. How could it be anything else? But Kaname genuinely has his own connection to the spirit world, entirely apart from Takashi.

That shouldn’t be possible. There shouldn’t be another human like him. Takashi’s existence is a curse, a unique affliction found only in his family line, only in Reiko and himself, for reasons no one understands.

They leave the arcade, with Nyanko-sensei trailing behind, and head down the street for some ice cream. As Takashi is trying to choose a flavor, he suddenly feels like he’s being watched. Is it those two yokai again? He turns to look but doesn’t notice anything unusual.

It’s probably nothing. Humans and yokai stare at him all the time. As long as nothing attacks him—

And then Nishimura shrieks.

Takashi screams, too, startled badly. Is something hurting Nishimura? Nishimura was possessed by a yokai once before, did those two yokai decide to go after him instead?

Nishimura points across the street. “It’s— It’s—“

“What? What is it?” Kitamoto asks, worried too.

“Natori Shuuichi!!” Nishimura shouts. Then he covers his mouth and turns red with embarrassment.

Takashi looks. There’s a man standing there, wearing glasses and a low-brimmed hat. The man turns in response to Nishimura’s outburst. He takes off his hat and glasses, and gives them a brilliantly charming smile.

It really is Natori Shuuichi! And he’s walking over to them!

Nishimura looks so overwhelmed he might explode or faint. Takashi is speechless too, mind racing with questions he can’t possibly ask.

“N-natori-san!” Nishimura stammers. “Is it really you?!”

“It certainly is!” Natori-san declares. “How wonderful. It’s always a pleasure to meet my fans.”

“I heard you were filming around here,” Nishimura continues. “We just saw your latest movie! It was so amazing and you were so amazing! Oh!” He puts his arm around Takashi’s shoulders and pulls him closer. “This is my friend Natsume. He really likes your movies too.”

“Um. Hi,” Takashi says.

Natori-san gives them another brilliant smile.

It’s different seeing him in person instead of on the screen. There’s something unusual about him, something the camera couldn’t capture. Something that feels—

Oh no.

Could he be a yokai?

But he’s just an actor. Isn’t he?

Maybe it has something to do with that lizard yokai on his body. It’s on his neck now. It seems to be resting. What exactly is it? Is it helpful? Dangerous?

The lizard moves, and Takashi startles.

Natori-san’s smile falters, and his eyes meet Takashi’s.

Takashi quickly looks away, but he knows it’s too late. Natori-san noticed his strange behavior. But Natori-san couldn’t possibly know the cause, could he?

Does he know about the lizard? It’s living on him, but humans never notice when a yokai is on them, or even possessing them. Like Nishimura. He just felt off and didn’t even imagine the truth.

Takashi realizes that Nishimura is talking, rambling on about Natori-san’s acting work. When he dares to look up, Natori-san is smiling like nothing is wrong. Takashi lets himself relax again.

Natori-san laughs. “I think you must be my biggest fan. Would you like me to sign something for you?”

“Everything!” Nishimura says, and then blushes again. “I mean. I have a few things. But they’re at home.”

“And how about you?” Natori-san asks Takashi.

Takashi doesn’t have any Natori Shuuichi merchandise. “Um, I don’t really—“

Natori-san stares at him intensely. “Have you ever considered acting? Your looks are quite striking. The camera would absolutely adore you.”

“A-acting?” Takashi stammers, surprised.

“There’s a small role in the movie I’m filming that would be perfect for you,” Natori-san continues. “Are you available this evening? I’ll take you to meet the director.”

“I couldn’t—” Takashi starts.

But Nishimura pulls him aside. “This is Natori Shuuichi!” he whispers sharply. “You have to say yes! Natsume, please! For me?”

Takashi doesn’t want to be anywhere near a movie set. He gets too much attention as it is.

But he can’t refuse Nishimura. Takashi’s suffered far worse helping yokai. If he can help his friend—

And maybe if he’s alone with Natori-san, he can figure out what’s going on with that lizard. And why yokai stay away from Natori-san’s movie sets.

“I guess— If it’s small,” Takashi allows.

“Wonderful!” Natori-san declares. “And of course I’ll be happy to sign anything you and your friends would like. If you give me your address I’ll come by tonight. We’re doing a night shoot.”

Takashi gives him his address. Natori-san gives him his business card, then heads off.

Nishimura looks about to explode from happiness. But Kitamoto is frowning.

“Natsume,” Kitamoto says, serious. “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

“But it’s Natori Shuuichi!” Nishimura protests.

“Natsume’s dealing with enough already,” Kitamoto says. “What if— You know— At the film set?”

“Oh!” Nishumura says, and turns serious, too. “Natori-san won’t let anything happen. It’ll be fine.”

“I guess,” Kitamoto says. “Hey, you don’t think he could be—“

“No way,” Nishimura says, certain.

Kitamoto eases. “Yeah, you’re right. But Natsume, if you don’t want to do this—“

“It’s okay,” Takashi says, touched by Kitamoto’s concern. “Honestly? I’m looking forward to it.”

On the way home, they stop by Nishimura’s house. They carry three armfuls of Natori Shuuichi merchandise to the Fujiwara house, and leave them with Takashi to get them signed.

When the three of them tell Touko-san the news, she’s astonished.

“What a wonderful opportunity!” Touko-san declares. “And he’s coming here tonight? I can’t wait to meet him!” She looks down at her apron. “Oh, I have to change into something pretty! And my hair—”

When Shigeru-san arrives home, his reaction to the news is more cautious. But he’s happy for Takashi, too. “Have you thought about acting before, Takashi?”

“Um. A little,” Takashi says.

It feels like he’s spent his whole life acting, trying desperately to convince everyone that he’s normal. He hasn’t succeeded though. Will he be any good at the real thing? He doesn’t want to disappoint Nishimura or Natori-san. Or the director or the film crew, or—

“It’s important to try new things at your age,” Shigeru-san says. “Whatever you want to do, you have our support. Maybe you’d like to join the acting club at school?”

“Um. Maybe,” Takashi says.

He definitely hadn’t thought as far as that. He’s doing this for Nishimura, and because he’s curious about Natori-san’s yokai-less movies, and his shadowy lizard yokai. He can’t imagine himself actually performing and being on a stage.

But lately, his life has been full of things he’d thought were impossible.

He’s never tried to join any school clubs. If he had to participate in something, everyone quickly found out how unreliable he was, how he would break things, how he would scream and run off for no reason. And then he’d have to move anyway, and start all over again.

But now he has Nyanko-sensei and Kousuke-san. And even Kaname is trying to protect him. If he did want to try something new, something that meant being more involved with the human world— Something that wasn’t just about survival—

Could he actually do that?

Takashi looks at himself in a mirror and tries to understand why Natori-san was going on about his appearance. He turns his face to different angles, trying to see what Natori-san must have seen. Anything appealing.

And looking at himself so closely— He never noticed before, but— Having seen her in so many yokai memories—

He looks a lot like Reiko. A lot. If he had red hair, and it was long—

No wonder yokai keep mistaking him for her.

He turns away from the mirror, unsettled.

He knows what Reiko’s life was, mostly. He knows what yokai know about her, and what his relatives say about her. Inheriting the Book, giving back Names night after night— He’s been pulled into a strange mirror of her life, walking in her footsteps, undoing everything she’s done.

He decided to return the Names because it was the right thing to do. Because it would stop yokai from attacking him so much. And when Nyanko-sensei warned him about how dangerous it all was, Takashi didn’t care.

He had no future. He barely had a present. And he only wanted to forget his past.

And now?

If he doesn’t want to be Reiko, what does he want?

Maybe acting is worth a try after all.

Takashi’s cautious excitement grows as they sit down for dinner. He keeps glancing at the clock, wondering if Natori-san will arrive soon. He starts wondering what it will be like to meet the movie director. What a film set is like. What the role is that Natori-san said he’d be perfect for. He’s never been perfect for anything before.

Natori-san chose him for this, out of everyone. Him!

There’s a knock at the door.

“Go on,” Touko-san encourages.

Takashi hurries to the door. He reaches to open it, excited for what’s about to happen. But then he stops, overcome by that same strange feeling he had before, when he met Natori-san on the street.

It’s probably nothing. He wants it to be nothing. He brushes it off and slides open the door.

Natori-san greets him with another brilliantly charming smile, and a bouquet of roses. “Natsume-kun, are you ready for your big night?”

“Yes,” Takashi says, eagerly. But then he falters, confused about the roses. “Oh, before we go— My friend left a few things for you to sign.”

“Of course,” Natori-san says.

He comes inside just as the Fujiwaras arrive from the kitchen.

“You must be his parents,” Natori-san says, and offers Touko-san the bouquet. “Natsume-san, I should have known such a handsome boy would have a beautiful mother.”

Takashi inwardly winces. The people he’s lived with have never liked being mistaken for his actual parents. They definitely didn’t like being called Natsumes.

But the Fujiwaras don’t correct him.

“Oh, you’re too kind,” Touko-san says, flustered. “Please, call me Touko.”

“Call me Shigeru,” Shigeru-san says, and gives a welcoming bow. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Of course, Touko-san, Shigeru-san,” Natori-san says, smoothly. “Your son is simply perfect for my new movie. I’m sure my director will love him. I’ll know it’s a school night, so I’ll try not to keep him out too late.”

“We trust you’ll keep him safe,” Shigeru-san says, with meaning.

“Absolutely,” Natori-san says. He takes out a marker. “Let’s get that signing done.”

Impressively, Natori-san is willing to sign every single one of Nishimura’s items. He has a signed photo of himself for Touko-san, too. Then he looks at his watch. “We’d better get going, we don’t want to be late.”

They go to the entrance and head out. When they open the door, Nyanko-sensei is sitting on the other side.

Is he blocking the way?

“Oh, what an interesting animal,” Natori-san says. “Is it yours?”

Takashi picks Nyanko-sensei up and holds him. “Yes. He has to come with me. I hope that’s okay.”

A film set might not allow pets. But Natori-san’s film sets don’t have any yokai, so if he had to leave Nyanko-sensei behind—

“Of course,” Natori-san says, though there’s a strange glint in his eyes. “Please, bring him.”

They say their goodbyes and head out. Natori-san doesn’t head for any of the cars parked in the street, so Takashi just keeps walking with him. The film set must be nearby. That’s why he was in town today, after all.

“So um, what’s this movie about?” Takashi asks.

“It’s a fantasy,” Natori-san says. “About a boy who can see strange things.”

Takashi’s steps falter. The feeling he had before, like— Natori-san might not be human—

Please let that feeling be wrong.

He tightens his hold on Nyanko-sensei. “What kind of things?”

Natori-san stops. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a piece of paper, cut roughly into the shape of a person. “Things like these,” he says, and then—

Smoke pours from the piece of paper. And then the smoke coalesces into—

A yokai!

Takashi yelps and startles back. The yokai looks female, with curly hair and ram’s horns. She has a blindfold across her eyes, and dark lipstick.

Instead of attacking, she settles at Natori-san’s side, and smiles.

“Creatures known as yokai,” Natori-san says. “I can see them, too.”

Takashi gapes, shocked beyond words.

This can’t be happening. Is he dreaming? Is he sick?

Natori-san chuckles. “You’re speechless. I’m sorry for the subterfuge. The moment I saw you— You could obviously see, and you’re so powerful I wasn’t sure if you were human. You even have a shiki of your own.”

Nyanko-sensei growls, startling Takashi further. “I’m his master, you brat!”

“How dare you insult my master, you fat pig!” scowls the yokai.

“What did you call me, sheep?!” Nyanko-sensei yells, and hisses.

“Now now, don’t fight,” Natori-san chides, calming the yokai.

Takashi is still too shocked to ask, to speak at all. Who is this man? Is he actually human? How is any of this possible?

“Sorry, I’m so excited, I should have said,” Natori-san says. “I’m an exorcist. Part time, of course.”

An exorcist?

Takashi’s heard about them, listening to yokai talk to each other. He knows they exist, and that yokai hate them. But he’s never seen one before, never talked to one.

“Have you had any training?” Natori-san continues. “Someone with your power— I was surprised I hadn’t heard about you before.”

Training?

Takashi shakes his head.

“Do your parents know about your Sight?” Natori-san asks.

Takashi shakes his head. He can’t speak to explain about the Fujiwaras.

“They seem extremely normal,” Natori-san says, thoughtful. “And your friends. Do they know?”

Takashi shakes his head. He can’t speak to explain about the Tanumas.

“I see,” Natori-san says. “Then you’re self-taught. So am I. And it’s not unusual for Sight to skip a generation or two. I’m the only one in my family who can See, so I know what’s it’s like.”

Then Natori-san looks at him intensely. “I’m impressed with how far you’ve come on your own. But you don’t have to face them alone anymore. I’ve been looking for an assistant for my exorcist work. I actually have job tonight. Nothing dangerous, a first meeting with the client to assess the situation. I want you to come with me. I think we could make a great team, and there’s so much I can teach you. What do you think, care to give it a try?”

It’s all too much for Takashi to take in. A job as an exorcist? With Natori-san? Tonight?

“But— The movie—“ Takashi says, finally finding his voice again.

“Oh, right,” Natori-san says, somewhat apologetic. “I really do have a film shoot in the area. But they don’t need me tonight. And there is no role. I just needed the excuse to talk to you alone.”

“Oh.”

Takashi didn’t even think about acting until Natori-san suggested it. He shouldn’t feel so disappointed about it all being a lie. But he is.

“The exorcist job is tonight,” Natori-san continues. “There’s some dangerous spirits in the area. Have you run into any yourself? Of course you have. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Takashi looks at Natori-san and the yokai floating calmly beside him.

Of course the acting role was a lie. No one would want Takashi in their movie, that was always obvious. But the rest—

Takashi never thought he’d ever find someone else who could see yokai. Natori-san can see them fully, not just sense them. He can see the same world Takashi can. He has a yokai that protects him, like Nyanko-sensei and Kousuke-san.

He can keep yokai away from film sets. He can protect himself and others. And he uses that ability to work as an exorcist. That’s his actual job.

His side job. The rest of the time, he’s a famous actor that everyone loves. Nishimura said that the people he works with think he’s a good luck charm.

Takashi never imagined having a life like that. And now it’s being offered to him?

He wants to learn everything Natori-san wants to teach him.

The only thing he can say is, “Yes. I’ll help you.”

“Excellent!” Natori-san says, pleased. “Then let’s get going. The client is just up this way. You live so close, you might even know them. A Buddhist priest and his son, the Tanumas?”

Takashi stares, stunned again.

They hired Natori-san? Why?

What if Natori-san realizes that Kousuke-san isn’t human? If Natori-san is a threat to the Tanumas—

No. Natori-san doesn’t seem bothered by Nyanko-sensei. Noble beings must not need exorcising. And it took ages for Takashi to realize Kousuke-san isn’t human. Even Nyanko-sensei was fooled.

It’ll be fine.

“Yes,” Takashi says again. “I know them.”

“Good,” Natori-san says, pleased. “Then— Do they know about your abilities?”

“Yes,” Takashi says.

“Oh,” Natori-san says, surprised. “Well. That’s good.” Then he rallies. “You can introduce me to them. Let’s go.”

Natori and his yokai start up the hill. Takashi holds Nyanko-sensei close, and follows.

Chapter Text

After they get home — and Kaname takes a long, hot bath — he digs through his things and finds his old guitar.

It’s not a fancy magic koto, not anywhere near it. It’s dusty and out of tune, and Akagane scoffs at the sight of it. But it cheers Asagi up anyway, as he cleans it and tunes the strings, and tries to remember how to play.

A monk taught him, many years ago. He was a musician in his old life, and loved to strum tunes in the evening, or on rainy afternoons. Kaname loved to sit and listen. Then one day the monk pressed his guitar into Kaname’s small arms, and started to teach him the basics.

It’s not the same guitar. Kaname got his own from a temple donation one day. He always wanted to learn to play as well as the monk who taught him. But when his head was sensitive from migraines, he couldn’t bear the noise of practice. One day he put the guitar aside, and never picked it up again.

“You can play too, if you want,” Kaname offers.

Asagi wants to. He can feel her yearning. But he can feel her fear, too.

“No, thank you,” Asagi says, in their head.

He understands. He doesn’t press her.

He can finally learn to play properly, if he wants to. But does he want to?

Maybe. He still likes the idea. He’d like to play for Takashi, to soothe him the way the musician monk soothed Kaname, all those years ago.

Dad comes in and says it’s time for dinner. Kaname puts the guitar aside.

“How’s your head?” Dad asks. “Any side effects from the new medication?”

“Nothing so far,” Kaname says. He thinks the background headache he’s lived with his entire life might be a little better, but he’s honestly not sure. It’s never fully gone away, but it ebbs and flows just enough to make it difficult to tell if something is helping it. And he’s always been more focused on his migraines and fevers, which can lay him out for days, or even the sharp pains he gets from being near angry spirits.

Even if the medication doesn’t work, feeling good enough to only have a mild headache is already a victory.

“The doctor said to give it time,” Dad says, with his usual calm.

The doorbell rings. His dad gets up to answer it. They’re not expecting anyone, but it could be a temple visitor, or a local with a donation. They don’t usually come this late, but it happens.

“Takashi?” Dad says. “Is something wrong?”

Kaname bolts from his chair and rushes over.

It is Takashi. Kaname immediately looks him over, but he seems okay. He’s holding Ponta in his arms, and the cat doesn’t seem too bothered.

“Um, I met someone today,” Takashi says. “He asked if I could introduce him.”

But before Takashi can actually do that, a man steps into view.

“Natori Shuuichi?!” Dad and Kaname say, both astonished.

Natori-san chuckles. “At your service.”

Then Kaname notices the figure behind Natori-san. A woman in a yukata and blindfold, with curly hair and— Ram’s horns?!

A yokai!

“Look out!” Kaname cries. He grabs Takashi and pulls him inside, away from the danger.

But the yokai doesn’t attack them. She just stands there.

“What—“ Takashi gasps, shocked.

If Kaname ever had a chance of keeping Takashi from figuring out that he’s possessed, he just ruined it. He felt Asagi surface when they touched, just like when Dad touches him. Takashi must have seen her.

And Natori-san also looks surprised. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a piece of paper. It looks like— An ofuda?

“I don’t want to alarm anyone,” Natori-san says. “But Tanuma-san, I’m afraid your son is possessed. Please step away, I can deal with this immediately.”

“No wait!” Dad says, and reaches out.

But Natori-san has already flung the ofuda at Kaname. It heads right for him, shooting like an arrow and not a fluttery length of paper. Kaname braces himself for whatever’s about to happen—

And then Akagane’s umbrella bats the ofuda away.

“An exorcist!” Akagane growls, furious. He lunges at Natori-san, umbrella raised to attack. The ram yokai intercepts him, and then the two of them go down swinging.

Natori-san reaches into his jacket again, and takes out a paper figure. Smoke pours out of it and another yokai appears, another woman, this one with long black hair that reaches out like tentacles. Kaname stumbles back in alarm, and crashes right into Takashi. They both scream as the long haired yokai lunges at them.

“Enough!” Ponta yells, and with a poof of smoke, a gigantic white wolf appears and crouches over them. “All of you shut up!” And the wolf blasts the room with purifying light.

The yokai women, Natori-san, and Akagane are all sent sprawling.

“Akagane!” Asagi cries out aloud, alarmed. She grabs at the wolf to stop it.

“They’ll be fine,” the giant wolf grumbles.

Kaname feels the soft fur of the giant wolf against their hands, and it’s familiar. Is that— Ponta’s invisible form?!

He can finally see it!

With another poof of smoke, Ponta is back in his cat form again. And true to his word, everyone who was knocked down is sitting up, dazed but unharmed.

There’s a groan beneath him, and Kaname realizes he’s lying on top of Takashi. “Oh, sorry!” he says, and rolls off him. “I’m really sorry. Um.”

He holds out his hand to help Takashi up. Takashi doesn’t take it.

As everyone gets back on their feet, Dad stands between Natori-san and Kaname and spreads his arms wide. “Please, if we can all be calm. Natori-san. You’re the exorcist Nanase-san sent?”

“Yes,” Natori-san says, curtly.

“I didn’t hire you to exorcise my son,” Dad says. “His situation is a separate matter, and he’s not in any danger.”

“What?” Natori-san says, confused. “You don’t want him exorcised?”

“I do not,” Dad says, certain.

“I’m okay,” Kaname tells Natori-san. “I volunteered to be possessed, to help her. She’s not dangerous. And he’s her bodyguard, he’s just trying to protect her.”

Even as he’s saying the words, Kaname realizes he just made another mistake. He turns to Takashi.

“You volunteered?!” Takashi says, upset. “How could you do something so dangerous?!”

“I had to protect you,” Kaname defends.

“No, you didn’t!” Takashi says. There are tears in his eyes, and not the kind he gets when he’s happy. “And how can you see those yokai?!”

“I’m sharing my body with Asagi,” Kaname admits. “I can see through her eyes. I can see everything! It’s so amazing—“

But before he can talk about how amazing it is, a look of absolute horror comes over Takashi’s face. And then— He shuts down. Locks into that utter calm that Kaname is learning to hate.

“Takashi—“ Kaname starts, but he doesn’t know what to say. It’s the mess with Sasada all over again, but worse. Did he just drive Takashi away for good?

This is a disaster.

And then Ponta leaps up onto Takashi’s shoulder. “Stop worrying so much,” he chides. “The idiot’s fine.”

“You knew about this?” Takashi asks, betrayed.

“You wanted me to keep an eye on him,” Ponta reminds him. “There’s only one of my glorious self, so I couldn’t stop both of you from being idiots at the same time. But Asagi and that umbrella fool just want to play some music. Once it’s done, they’ll be gone. It’s fine.”

Amazingly, Ponta is actually calming Takashi down. That icy calm is backing away. “But— He can see yokai.”

“I can see yokai,” Ponta says. “Everyone in this room except the priest can see yokai. What’s the big deal?”

Takashi seems unable to answer that.

“Priest, get me a snack,” Ponta commands. “Keeping all these idiots alive is hard work.”

“How about we all have some tea?” Dad says.

After some wrangling, they’re all settled around the table in the kitchen. Kaname sits next to his dad and across from Natori-san, and Takashi sits across from Dad.

Natori Shuuichi can see yokai. Natori Shuuichi is an exorcist. Of all people! And there’s a strange lizard-shaped tattoo on his wrist that Kaname doesn’t remember seeing in the movie. They probably covered it with makeup.

The two women yokai are apparently shiki, yokai who help exorcists. It’s a strange thing to be, but they seem fine with it. The one with long hair is Urihime, and the one with ram’s horns is Sasago.

Urihime and Sasago stand at one corner of the kitchen, and glare at Akagane, who’s standing at the opposite corner and glaring back. Nyanko sits on the counter and munches on a dorayaki, entirely unbothered.

“Have you been an exorcist for long?” Dad asks Natori-san. “I hope you’re not giving up acting. Your movie was very good.”

“Thank you,” Natori-san says. The flattery definitely has a calming effect on him. “I come from a family of exorcists. But I’m the only one who’s active.”

“And you work for Nanase-san?” Dad asks.

Natori-san gives a strange laugh. “The Matoba clan makes jobs available. Sometimes I take them. I happened to be in the area for some filming.”

“I see,” Dad says. “Kaname and I have met with exorcists before. My son has always been sensitive to spirits. Sometimes they give him migraines and fevers. We hoped the exorcists could help. But they said there was nothing to be done.”

“Sensitivity usually can’t be changed,” Natori-san says. “But it can fade with age.”

“They said the same,” Dad says. “Kaname’s current situation aside, his sensitivity hasn’t faded.” He turns to Takashi. “We’re sorry we didn’t tell you that we were trying the exorcists again. We wanted to be cautious about your involvement. But of course these things do have a way of pulling you in. And— We’re sorry we didn’t tell you about Kaname’s possession.”

Takashi isn’t in his locked-down state, but he’s been vacillating between visible upset and false calm. And he’s refusing to look at any of them.

“Allowing yourself to be possessed is incredibly dangerous,” Natori-san chides.

“They needed help,” Kaname defends. “And it kept them from going after Takashi. I’d do it again.”

Being possessed by Asagi— It’s been amazing. Not just seeing the spirit world fully. Sharing his body with her, feeling what she feels, getting glimpses of her life— He’s never experienced anything so intimate.

“Takashi is something of a magnet for yokai,” Dad explains. “As you can see, he has a protector. We’re very grateful to Nyanko-sensei. But I would like to find ways to make Hitoyoshi safer for both boys.”

“There’s no way to get rid of all the yokai,” Natori-san warns him.

“We don’t want to get rid of them,” Dad says. “And we don’t want to hurt them. There’s already a great deal of suffering in the spirit world, just as in the human one. I think perhaps the reason all of us came together here— Is to help alleviate that suffering.”

Takashi finally looks up at Dad, surprised. And cautiously hopeful.

“The job description said there’s some dangerous earth spirits here,” Natori-san says. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” Kaname says. “Takashi and I were out exploring. They attacked us and tried to kill us.”

“Nyanko-sensei protected the boys,” Dad says. “And we’re very grateful to him. But the earth spirits are still there, and still dangerous. What can we do to calm them? Can they be helped?”

“I’ll have to visit the location and assess it,” Natori-san says. “Earth spirits aren’t simple yokai. Purification might be complicated. And I might not be powerful enough to do it on my own. However—“ He looks at Kaname. “How sensitive are you, normally?”

“I can feel spirits,” Kaname says. “I can see yokai as shadows, if they’re strong enough. Sometimes I can see or hear them, but only as glimpses, or reflections.”

“That’s certainly powerful enough for spells,” Natori-san says. “I already made an offer to Takashi, but— If you’re both willing to assist me, the three of us should be enough. Along with our shiki, of course.”

“I told you, brat, I’m his master,” Nyanko-sensei says, annoyed. “Don’t think you can waltz in and take him!”

Natori-san frowns. “Is he serious?” he asks Takashi.

Takashi hesitates.

Natori-san’s expression turns strained, and he rubs his forehead. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a situation like this before.”

“Would helping you put them in danger?” Dad asks.

“There’s always some danger to this work,” Natori-san admits. “But I’d rather have the tools to protect myself than cower in fear and leave myself completely vulnerable.”

He says that last part with unexpected emotion.

“Doing these spells,” Akagane says. “Will it harm Asagi?”

“I don’t know,” Natori-san says.

“Then I demand you help Asagi first!” Akagane says, and slams his fist on the table, rattling the teacups.

Dad startles. From his perspective, the teacups must have suddenly shook on their own.

Urihime gives a warning growl, her teeth bared. Akagane glares at her, but backs off.

“We have to help Asagi first,” Kaname tells Dad.

“All right,” Dad says. He gives a thoughtful pause. “Natori-san needs time to assess the situation and make preparations. While he does that, we can continue our search for the koto materials. Takashi, if you can help us, I’m sure it will go faster. Would you mind?”

“I’ll help,” Takashi says, but he doesn’t sound happy about it.

Kaname isn’t happy about it either. He doesn’t want to rush to get rid of Asagi. He wants to keep being able to see the same world Takashi sees. To lose all this already—

“I’m sorry for my weakness,” Asagi says, in their head.

“It’s not your fault,” Kaname says, in their head.

“I’ll pick you boys up after school tomorrow,” Dad says. “Takashi, bring a change of clothes, we have to go fishing.”

“Fishing?” Takashi says, confused.

“We have to find a magic fish and a magic tree stump,” Kaname admits.

The expression that crosses Takashi’s face— Kaname can only call it commiseration.

Maybe Dad is right, and helping Asagi together will be a good thing.

“And speaking of school, I’d like to get Takashi home,” Dad says. “We all need our rest for tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Natori-san says.

“Before you go,” Kaname says. “Natori-san, can all exorcists see yokai, the way you and Takashi can?”

“No,” Natori-san says. “Most aren’t even as sensitive as you. They rely on rituals and shiki. Quite frankly, finding you two— Any exorcist clan would be eager to employ you. But—“ He pauses, and seems to want to say more. But then he doesn’t. “Let’s take this one step at a time.” He gives Kaname and Dad his card. “Call me if you need me. I’ll be in touch.” He stands. “Natsume? I’ll walk you home.”

Takashi stands, too.

There’s so much Kaname wants to say to him. To explain, to share. But Takashi’s expression—

He hopes they can talk tomorrow.

When Kaname was looking for his guitar, he saw some old art supplies. Another hobby that fell by the wayside because of his health. After Takashi and Natori-san and their spirits have left, Kaname finds the supplies again and takes them out.

“Asagi,” he asks, in their head. “I know you don’t want to play the guitar, but— Are you any good at drawing? Or painting?”

“Mibu-sama encouraged us in all the arts,” Asagi says, in their head.

“Then could I ask you a favor?” Kaname says, in their head. “If you’re going to leave soon— I don’t want to forget everything I’ve seen. Can you help me?”

He can feel her considering it. Testing against her fear.

“Yes,” she decides. “I can.”

Chapter Text

“There are so many fireflies out tonight,” Natori-san says.

Are there? Takashi looks around, and realizes that Natori-san is right. The woods are full of tiny flashing lights, much more than usual. Perhaps it’s just their time of year.

Takashi turns his head further. Natori-san’s shiki look back at him. Sasago and Urihime. They stare warningly at Nyanko-sensei, perched on his shoulder. Nyanko-sensei is ignoring them.

Takashi turns his gaze back to the road. To his feet moving, one and then the other. The light on them changes with the passing of each streetlight. Shadows and then light and then shadows again, as they walk back to the Fujiwaras house.

“Now that we’ll be working together, I’ll make arrangements for our cover story,” Natori-san says. “I’m sure I can find a small role for you, even a few seconds of screen time should be enough. And I can bring your friends and family for a tour of a film set. Acting work is irregular and has strange hours. It’ll provide the perfect excuse when we need to meet.”

Takashi wants to reply.

“I can see you’ve been doing things your own way,” Natori-san continues. “There’s nothing wrong with that. But you and your friend— Playing around with yokai like that is dangerous. Especially possession. Yokai are always unreasonable and a nuisance. You have to have zero tolerance when they attack humans.”

Again, Takashi wants to answer him.

To argue? To agree?

“Do whatever it takes to get that yokai to leave your friend as soon as possible,” Natori-san says. “If it won’t let him go, we can force it out. But a willing possession like that goes deep. I’d rather not risk more damage.”

A bolt of fear strikes through Takashi’s numb mind. If something happens to Kaname—

No. Something has already happened to him.

Kaname volunteered to be possessed. How could he do something so insanely dangerous?

“Don’t worry too much,” Natori-san says, cheerful again. “Now that you’re my assistant, we can protect him together.”

Protect him.

“You said—“ Takashi starts, the words forcing themselves out. “We can’t get rid of all the yokai. But your movies—“

The safe, yokai-less world in Natori-san’s movies—

How can he get Kaname into that world?

“Ah, of course you noticed that,” Natori-san says, with a laugh. “That was one of the reasons I got into acting. I can finally enjoy at least a few movies and shows without yokai cluttering up every frame. I exorcise the area before each film shoot. But it’s only temporary, and if you don’t seal the yokai they’ll come back and cause trouble.”

“Seal them?” Takashi asks.

“In jars like this,” Natori-san says, and pulls a small ceramic jar out of his jacket pocket. “It doesn’t look like much, but with the right spell it’ll hold yokai indefinitely.” He holds it out. “Take this one. Once that yokai is out of your friend, seal it and its so-called bodyguard.”

Takashi stares at the offered jar.

He revolts at the thought. To trap a yokai in a tiny jar—

And the sight stirs yokai memories inside of him. Miko, the shrine maiden of Futaba Village. Shiko, the playful shibaten kappa. Susugi, the shadow god who washes dishes for food. They all left behind flashes of recognition, feelings of wariness and fear.

But the worst is from Shigure-sama. The god of luck, trapped by humans, tortured to serve them. The sealing jar drags forth his bitter anger.

Concern edges into Natori-san’s eyes.

Takashi forces everything he’s feeling back down. He takes the jar, and the concern fades.

“I’ll teach you more about them later,” Natori-san says, as they resume walking. “There’s already a spell on that one, it’s for quick captures. So you just have to take out the cork. Unless— Your ‘master’ has any objections?”

Nyanko-sensei scoffs. “He doesn’t need some pathetic little jar.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Natori-san says, smiling. “But just in case—“

Takashi puts the jar into his pocket.

“Good,” Natori-san says, pleased.

When they reach the Fujiwara house, Natori-san is as charming as he was when he first arrived there. He tells them that the movie director loved Takashi, and is seriously considering him for the role. The way he talks, it sounds like Takashi has a guaranteed career in acting, just like that.

The Fujiwaras are proud and delighted.

But it’s all lies.

Takashi does his best to match Natori-san, to smile along with him. But as soon as Takashi is alone in his bedroom, his smile falls away.

He knew something bad was going to happen. But he never expected any of this.

He doesn’t know what to do. Except what Natori-san said, and do whatever it takes to get Asagi out of Kaname.

Would she be willing to posses Takashi instead?

Natori-san wouldn’t like that.

Natori-san can see yokai. Kaname can see yokai, at least for now. There are other exorcists who can see yokai.

He wants to learn from Natori-san. But does he want to be an exorcist?

He takes the sealing jar out of his pocket. If he had something like this before—

There were so many times. If he could have trapped every yokai that scared him, chased him, tried to eat him—

If he could have bound them, forced them to leave him alone. Like he did with that stalker yokai in Chigasaki City. He barely understood it at the time, but that trap he used to stop it, the hole with the priest’s old seals— That must have worked like a sealing jar.

If he could do it to all of them—

Oh.

He’d be just like Reiko.

He knows what the consequences would be. Yokai would be afraid of him, like they are of her, even after her death. They’d challenge him, and he’d have to fight them like she did. They’d try to stop him, like Tarusaru tried to stop her.

Like Tarusaru already tried to stop him. And almost succeeded. Takashi’s wounds from the Futaba Village festival are still healing. He doesn’t know if Benio was right, and Tarusaru will never bother him again. Or if that giant monkey-kappa Enkou will return and try to steal the Book again.

What would Natori-san think about the Book? If Takashi told him—

He would probably say it was dangerous. He might even try to take it away and destroy it. He wouldn’t care that he would also be destroying all the yokai whose Names are still in the Book. He would probably be glad.

Takashi can’t let that happen. The Book is his responsibility. He has to protect the lives bound to it.

Even if they’re like Shinshin, the octopus yokai who ate an entire boat, and all the people in it?

But what about Hogaraka, the harmless cloud yokai? Or Tsuyukami, the dew god who loved his worshippers to the very end?

Natori-san thinks yokai are always unreasonable and a nuisance. But Takashi can’t say one way or the other without knowing their circumstances. Shigure-sama was absolutely unreasonable, and terrifyingly dangerous. But only because he’d been made that way by humans.

In the end, it was Sasada’s kindness that healed Shigure-sama, and let him move on. How could it be better to trap him in a jar? To hurt him in the same way that he had already been hurt?

Takashi wants to throw the sealing jar away. To destroy it so it can never hurt any yokai ever again. And if he dies one day, without its protection—

It doesn’t matter what happens to him.

But Kaname—

How can he let anything hurt Kaname?

If a yokai attacks them and Kaname tries to protect him again, and gets hurt instead of him—

If Takashi could avert all of that by using the jar—

If learning to be an exorcist will keep Kaname safe—

Kousuke-san wants Natori-san to make Hitoyoshi safer. If Takashi took the Names of the yokai here instead of giving them away—

But he couldn’t possibly do that.

Could he?

Eventually, he drifts off into a restless sleep, his thoughts still trapped in questioning circles. His stirred-up yokai memories fill his dreams, good and bad, and all familiar until—

A forest, and people he doesn’t recognize. All of them dressed in finery.

He looks down, and sees his body is female, with long blue hair.

And then he knows whose memories these belong to.

Asagi.

When Kaname grabbed him, and then fell on top of him— And Asagi appeared— Takashi must have absorbed them then, from the contact.

In Asagi’s memories, living them out, Takashi feels at peace. At home in this place, with these people. And especially with the man he’s playing for. His lord Mibu-sama. Takashi had nothing, no home, nowhere to belong, until Mibu-sama brought him here and gave him everything. All Takashi wants, with every fiber of his being, is to serve Mibu-sama, to repay him with his music. Only that and nothing else.

And then, as he plays the strings of his koto, his fingers crumble away like sand.

His koto falls.

He reaches up to his face, and feels his cheek crumbling away.

Horrified and ashamed, he tries to run. But every step shatters him, and he falls, scatters across the grass.

There’s a flurry of panic around him. As it settles, the grains of him are scooped up and poured into a fine vessel.

He’s poured out again, and the healers shape him back together. Through Mibu-sama’s strength, Takashi’s form is restored. But the slightest pressure makes him crumble.

He can never play the koto again. He’s useless, a failure. Mibu-sama gave him so much, and it was all for nothing.

He can burden Mibu-sama no longer.

At night, after Mibu-sama has restored his shape yet again, Takashi sneaks away from the healers, every movement light and careful.

He makes it farther than he thought he would before he crumbles again. Far enough away that no one should ever find him, and he should be left alone to be dispersed by the winds.

But he is found. Akagane, who protects all of them from harm. Loyal, sweet Akagane gathers up every grain of him, and pours him into a simple gourd.

“Please,” Takashi begs, helpless. “Don’t take me back there. Please!”

“As you wish,” Akagane says. And so Akagane exiles himself, too, for Takashi’s sake.

No. For Asagi’s sake.

Takashi wakes, but hesitates to open his eyes, afraid that if he does, he’ll see his own body crumble away.

And then he hears a knock at his window. That must have been what woke him.

Grateful for the distraction, he drags himself up and opens the window, wondering what new yokai want their Names back now.

But to his surprise, he recognizes the yokai perched on his roof. It’s the Mid-Ranks and the kappa, from Yatushara. Why are they—

“Natsume-sama!” they cry, as they barge into his room, sake bottles in hand. “Picnic! Picnic with Natsume-sama!”

Oh no. The picnic! He totally forgot.

“I’m really sorry, but—“ Takashi starts, protesting.

“Sake!” Nyanko-sensei cries, delighted, and Takashi knows he’s doomed. It’s his own fault for making that promise.

“Every time we see you, you’re so busy with human things,” says the kappa. “So we thought we’d bring the picnic to you!”

“And we know you always have time for yokai at night,” says the cyclops yokai, confidently.

“Not by choice,” Takashi mutters.

“Midnight picnic!” cries the ox yokai.

“The best kind!” says the kappa.

And before Takashi can even begin to think of an excuse to make them leave, the three of them have taken over his room and his so-called bodyguard is well on his way to getting drunk.

“Fine,” Takashi relents. “But please, just for a little while. I have school in the morning.”

“A party with Natsume-sama!” cries the ox yokai.

“Have some sake,” says the cyclops yokai, and pushes a cup into his hands.

“I’m a minor,” Takashi reminds him, and gives the cup back. Not that he would want any of it even if he was old enough. Some of the people he lived with drank a lot. And while it was his fault for causing them so much trouble that they needed to drink—

They didn’t leave him with any pleasant memories.

He thinks about the sealing jar in his waist pack, tucked beside the Book of Friends. He can’t imagine using that on the Yatsuhara yokai. They’re bothersome but hardly dangerous. They’re grateful for his help, and this is the way they show it.

But he’s tired and stressed, and just wants to go back to sleep.

Then again, given what he was dreaming about— Maybe he doesn’t mind not sleeping for a while. And however noisy they are, yokai can’t disturb the Fujiwaras.

And what about the Book?

This kappa once asked Takashi to take his Name. Pleaded for it.

Would it be a bad thing if Takashi gave him what he wanted?

Many of the yokai Reiko met didn’t mind giving over their Names. But Reiko never fulfilled her end of the bargain, from their perspective. She never called them, never commanded them to serve her.

Ookaze the paper umbrella, and Kodaki the ever-filled jug, and even lonely Hishigaki, the first yokai Takashi ever returned a Name to. All they wanted was to serve Reiko. Like Asagi wanted to serve Mibu-sama, with all her heart. And if she couldn’t, what was the point of her?

If Takashi used the book to command yokai to leave Kaname alone—

But Takashi is Reiko’s only surviving blood relative. When he dies, there won’t be anyone left to return the Names in the Book. He never expected to have a long life; frankly, he’s amazed to have lasted this long. If he bound the kappa and then died, the kappa would be trapped forever. It would never be free, and then when the Book itself was destroyed, it would die, too.

Takashi couldn’t bear to do something so cruel. It would be irresponsible of him to repeat Reiko’s mistakes. He has to undo her damage, not make it worse.

Using the Book isn’t an option.

But the sealing jar—

If a yokai can be put into a jar, surely they can be let out again, maybe by anyone. It wouldn’t be nearly as dangerous. And who knows what other methods Natori-san could teach him.

The night he saved himself from the stalker yokai— He was ready to give up. To let himself be taken, to face whatever dark fate that yokai had in store for him. But then the Fujiwaras visited the people he was living with.

They actually wanted him. They were actually real.

They gave him a reason to fight.

He needs to fight for Kaname, too.

Except—

It isn’t any yokai that Natori-san wants him to seal. It’s Asagi and Akagane. He knows what she’s been through, and what Akagane did for her. They’re not like his stalker yokai. Even though they should never have possessed Kaname—

Sealing them would be wrong.

But Natori-san wants him to do it. To have zero tolerance for yokai who attack humans.

Is that what it means to be an exorcist?

Kousuke-san hired Natori-san to deal with the earth spirits of Kiriganuma. The earth spirits are absolutely dangerous, Takashi and Kaname both almost died from their attacks.

But their pain was seared into him when they touched him. Humans caused it, just like they caused Shigure-sama’s pain. Humans dug into the earth and poisoned it and left behind their own suffering, too.

How can Takashi add to their suffering?

But if he refuses, then what?

Takashi finally found someone else who sees exactly the same world he does. Who’s felt the same pain and overcome it, and made a real, successful life for himself, and even found ways to protect the people around him.

Natori-san is a lucky charm. And he wants to make Takashi lucky, too.

Can Takashi really throw all that away? For spirits who attack humans? Who attacked and possessed Kaname?

After thinking about it all night, he’s no closer to an answer. His head hurts and he needs to go back to sleep. But his bedroom has been taken over by noisy, drunk yokai.

He’s slept in worse conditions than this. Far worse. He could probably get a little sleep right here despite the noise. Or he could take a blanket and sleep in the hallway, and wake up before the Fujiwaras find him there.

But the sofa downstairs— It would be peaceful and comfortable. Normally he would never dare intrude on the people he lives with. He had to take up as little space as possible, be as little bother as possible, so he can stay in their homes just a little longer.

But he’s napped on the sofa before, at the Fujiwaras’ insistence. And the way they’ve been with him the past few days—

He excuses himself from the party. The yokai protest, but they’re happy to stay and keep drinking. Takashi takes his blanket and pillow and creeps downstairs, careful not to make any noise.

He thinks about waking up on the sofa, warm and safe, with Touko-san beside him. And another memory from Asagi surfaces. Mibu-sama’s worried, tender expression when he sat beside her as she lay in the healer’s bed.

She knew she had to leave.

Takashi’s eyes are suddenly damp.

He wants to stay here. If Natori-san helps him, can he stay here?

He closes his eyes and tries to get some sleep.

Chapter Text

Kaname and Asagi stay up all night painting. Well, it’s Asagi who does all the work. Kaname couldn’t hope to capture the spirit world the way she can, and he’s grateful that he can lend her his hands to do it.

As he watches her paint, his mind drifts. He even dozes off, then wakes again to find her already working on the next piece. Drying watercolors fill his room and then the hallway.

He would feel bad for making her work so much. But she’s happy doing this for him. More than happy. Even if she has to leave his body soon, just for this moment, she can interact with the world again, she can create something beautiful. He’s given her an amazing gift, and she wants to repay him.

They both wish that she could stay.

If only Natori-san hadn’t come.

When Dad didn’t want to get Takashi involved with the exorcists at first— Kaname had his doubts. Surely Takashi would be the best judge of them, and Ponta, too.

But the moment Natori-san arrived in Hitoyoshi, he found Takashi and decided to make him his assistant. And Takashi apparently agreed to it.

Of course he did. He was already fascinated with Natori-san even when he was just an image on a movie screen. Now he’s here, in person, and he can see the spirit world just as well as Takashi, and he doesn’t need to be possessed to do it.

They brought Natori-san here to protect Takashi’s life in Hitoyoshi. But did they just destroy it instead? Natori-san has spells and shiki and who knows what else. He’s a famous actor that everyone loves. Why wouldn’t Takashi choose to leave here and live with Natori-san instead?

Kaname thinks of the pathetic little list he made last week, trying to keep Takashi safer at school. He couldn’t even sense all the yokai there. And they move around so the whole thing was pointless.

He couldn’t even get possessed without upsetting Takashi.

Ugh, he’s so useless.

Asagi tries to console him. Dad tries to console him over breakfast, after Asagi goes to sleep, worn out from all the painting.

“I don’t think Takashi is going to leave with Natori-san,” Dad says.

“Why not?” Kaname pouts. “Natori-san is perfect.”

“Perfect?” Dad asks, surprised. “I don’t know the man very well. But I’m sure he has his flaws. Everyone does.”

Kaname answers with a grumble.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Dad asks.

Kaname shrugs. “A little.” Does it count if his mind slept while his body worked?

“Do you need to stay home from school?”

“No,” Kaname says, even though he feels like he needs a ten hour nap. He doesn’t want to miss a minute with Takashi. They might only have a few days left together before Takashi leaves with Natori-san and they never see each other again.

Akagane accompanies him to school, unwilling to let Asagi out of his sight. But he agrees to keep his distance and not cause any trouble.

Kaname is so tired and distracted that he ends up barely making it to school on time. He doesn’t even have the chance to make his useless yokai list, or see Takashi. And when he gets there, of course, everyone is talking about Natori-san.

He shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone in this school loves to talk about Takashi, and Takashi and famous actor Natori Shuuichi?

Kaname finds out how they met, or at least the rumor version of it. Apparently Takashi was in town with Nishimura and Kitamoto, and Natori-san scouted him right on the spot for a role in his new movie.

It’s even worse than Kaname thought, if Natori-san is giving Takashi acting roles, too!

Natori-san just waltzed in and offered Takashi everything. Protection from spirits, two different careers, and the chance to live with someone who can see exactly what he sees.

Kaname can’t focus at all in class. He ends up doodling for most of the morning, making rough drawings of the yokai he saw on the way to school, and the ones he sees out the window. His efforts hardly compare to Asagi’s paintings. But when she leaves and Takashi leaves, the paintings and sketches will be all he has left.

He dozes off and is woken by the lunch bell. He goes to the bathroom and splashes some water on their face, trying to clear their head. Then he hurries up to the roof, with Akagane trailing behind him.

Nishimura and Kitamoto are on the roof, surrounded by Natori Shuuichi merchandise.

There’s no escape.

But Takashi isn’t here.

“Where is he?” Kaname asks, alarmed.

“Sleeping in the classroom,” Nishimura says. “He’s going to be in a Natori Shuuichi movie! Our Natsume, can you believe it! And Natori-san signed all this for me—“

But Kaname doesn’t stay to hear the rest. He rushes back downstairs, and runs to Takashi’s classroom. Akagane follows him there, too.

The classroom lights are off, but there’s plenty of light coming in from the windows. Takashi is curled over his desk with his face buried in his arms. His breathing is steady with sleep.

The sight of him makes Kaname’s heart ache.

Kaname can’t bear to wake him. Takashi always needs his rest. And he shouldn’t be alone. Nishimura was so protective of Takashi before, worried about his ‘stalker’, but all this Natori business obviously pushed it right out of his head.

There’s nothing in the room with them. A gentle breeze drifts in through the open windows, and lifts the ends of Takashi’s hair.

Kaname’s had to say goodbye to a lot of people. But he’s usually the one who’s leaving, not the one left behind.

If it’s better for Takashi to be with Natori-san— Kaname will smile for Takashi right to the end. Takashi’s life has been so hard, he deserves every good thing that comes to him.

But until then—

Kaname will stay by his side, and protect him with everything he has.

He looks over at Akagane, protecting Asagi with everything he has. And the two of them exchange a look of understanding.

Takashi is still asleep when the other students return from lunch. Once Nishimura and Kitamoto are back, Kaname leaves for his own class, before anyone can wake Takashi up.

And once Kaname is back at his own desk, it’s not long before he falls asleep again. The teacher sends him to the nurse’s office to get some rest. And when he gets there, he bites back a laugh.

Takashi is here too, asleep again. He must have been up all night, full of excitement for his new life.

There’s a thin blanket draped over Takashi, but it’s slipped down. Kaname pulls it back up.

Takashi’s face isn’t buried in his arms now. And instead of the happiness that should be there, even in sleep— Takashi’s brow is furrowed with worry.

It reminds Kaname of how Takashi was after they saw Natori-san’s movie. His strange distress.

With Asagi’s sight, Kaname would know if there was a dangerous yokai hurting Takashi. But there’s nothing. Whatever’s wrong, it’s something Takashi would have to tell him

He hopes it will be easier for Takashi to talk to Natori-san.

“Keep an eye on him?” Kaname asks Akagane.

“You will both be safe,” Akagane declares, and stands guard over them, his umbrella at hand.

Exhausted, Kaname sleeps.

Since he started sharing his body with Asagi, he’s seen the world through her eyes, but also with her mind. His possession has been a constant, surreal deja vu, as Asagi’s knowledge and experience mixed with his own. He’s felt her feelings. He’s even seen flashes of memories, images of Isozuki Forest, the home she had to leave behind.

And now he finds himself in her dreams.

He knows it’s a dream and not simply memories, because while Asagi is sitting calmly in a familiar forest glade, it’s not a koto that she’s playing but his own guitar.

Her fingers move awkwardly on the strings. And in the way of dreams, he knows that she didn’t know how to play the koto when she was first brought to Isozuki Forest.

Mibu-sama stands before her, a regal figure in fine purple robes. He looks down at her kindly.

“He asked nothing of me,” Asagi says, aware of Kaname’s presence. “But I could not bear to be useless to him. At first my fingers could only stumble, like yours. But he encouraged me, brought tutors to me, and I—”

She presses her hand flat over the strings, stopping their vibrations. And at the gentle impact, fragments of her hand crumble away like sand. And in the way of dreams, Kaname knows this is her sickness, the thing that stole her life.

And then Mibu-sama is gone, and Akagane stands in his place. He looks down at her kindly.

“He wants me to play again,” Asagi continues, soft and sad. “To make me smile. But I have never played for myself.”

“What do you want?” Kaname asks. If she doesn’t want to play again— If she’s only going along with all of this for Akagane’s sake—

Asagi doesn’t answer. She starts to play again, and now he can see how carefully she plucks each string. But no matter how gently she plays, her hand continues to crumble away.

Kaname reaches out to her, to stop her. But then his own hands start to crumble into sand. And with every strum of the guitar, both of their bodies fall away, more and more until—

“Tanuma-kun?”

Kaname wakes with a gasp. The school nurse is standing beside his bed, looking concerned.

“Do you feel sick?” she asks him. She reaches for their forehead, and Kaname flinches, instinctively afraid they’ll crumble from her touch.

But their forehead is solid under her hand.

And then her hand pulls back as she startles. As she sees Asagi instead of Kaname.

The nurse blinks, confused. But with their connection broken, she only sees Kaname again. “You’re a little warm,” she says, straining to ignore something as impossible as her student turning into a woman with blue hair. “Make sure you get plenty of rest.”

Kaname can hardly tell her they have to go splashing around in ponds all afternoon.

As the nurse turns away she mutters, “I need more sleep, too.”

She goes over to Takashi’s bed to wake him up. Kaname glances at the clock, and sees that the school day is over.

“Is it contagious?” he asks, in their head. Braces for the answer.

“No,” Asagi answers, in their head. “No one else had my sickness.”

He remembers with her mind. How the healers and Mibu-sama were able to restore her body, but only until she crumbled again.

Even with Asagi’s memories, he doesn’t know much about what makes spirits sick. Is there a spirit equivalent of germs or genetic mutation? If her body could crumble to sand and then be made whole again—

Could it be her mind? Could she have some kind of— Literal sickness of spirit?

But then his attention is drawn to the other bed. Takashi is awake, and getting checked by the nurse for fever. She gives him the same instruction to rest.

Takashi looks a little better for having slept. But when Kaname tries to meet his eyes, Takashi looks away.

Kaname should probably back off. Takashi has Natori-san now. But Kaname can’t make himself give up. He wants to see Takashi smile again.

Like Akagane wants to see Asagi smile again.

What does Asagi want? What does Takashi want?

Kaname needs to find out.

Dad is waiting for them out front, with Ponta in the car. Kaname lets Akagane have the front seat and sits next to Takashi and Ponta.

“So, um,” Kaname starts. “Are you excited about working with Natori-san?”

To Kaname’s surprise, Takashi does not seem excited.

Kaname shouldn’t be happy about Takashi being unhappy. But he feels a spark of hope anyway.

“Sorry about dragging you into this,” Kaname continues. “If you’re still tired, we can drop you off at home.”

“I want to help,” Takashi says. “You shouldn’t have to do any of this.”

“Neither should you,” Kaname says.

Takashi actually gives a frustrated huff. It’s adorable.

No matter what happens with Natori-san, Kaname is so screwed.

In their head, Asagi gives a gentle laugh.

Maybe it’s because they already tried the other ponds, and maybe it’s because Takashi is with them. But after wading around for a while, they finally catch a senbiki.

It turns out it’s not the fish itself that they need to make the koto, but the fishing line that trails out of its mouth. Akagane explains that a hermit yokai called Ryokan travels around the country fishing for senbiki. But the senbiki often break his line and get away. Apparently the line is better for kotos than for catching fish.

Akagane then directs them to patch of forest that overlaps with a bamboo grove. Since it’s a mundane bamboo-pierced tree stump they’re looking for, even Dad can help out, and they start their search.

Flush with their first success, it’s actually kinda fun wandering around the forest. Takashi’s tension has eased somewhat, and Kaname keeps pausing to watch him. To hold on to every last moment they have together.

And then all too soon—

“I found it!” Dad calls, excited.

All of them rush over. And there, at Dad’s feet, is a tree stump with a bamboo shoot growing through it.

Dad is positively beaming.

“Well done!!” Akagane cries, though Dad can’t hear him. He crouches down and runs his hand over the stump, examining it. “Yes, it’s perfect. Time to carve it out! And then—“ He looks up at Kaname. “Asagi! I will bring you back to Mibu-sama!”

Kaname can feel Asagi’s shock. “Back to Isozuki Forest?” she asks aloud.

“Of course!” Akagane says. “You were always so happy there. Once you play for him again—“

“No!” Asagi cries, distressed. “I cannot! I can never play again. I’m sorry!”

And then she retreats.

“What’s wrong?” Dad asks, concerned.

“She doesn’t want to play the koto,” Kaname says.

“But if she doesn’t—“ Takashi says. “It’s what she needs. To move on. Right?” He meets Kaname’s eyes, then looks to Ponta.

“She must need something else,” Ponta shrugs.

“Ridiculous!” Akagane declares. He takes out a knife and starts cutting into the stump. “Of course she wants to play! She only needs to hold a koto in her hands again.”

Kaname reaches for Asagi, but she doesn’t respond. She was so happy last night, painting the spirit world for him. And he thinks she does want to play again, but—

But she needs something else. And until they figure out what that is, she’s stuck inside him.

Chapter Text

As they drive back to Yatsuhara, the front passenger seat is gradually covered by wood chips as Akagane’s invisible hands frantically carve their way around the bamboo-pierced tree stump, which seems to levitate over the seat.

It’s hard for Kousuke to keep his eyes on the road. When he’s not glancing at the spectacle beside him, or brushing away wood chips, he’s glancing at the rear view mirror to check on Kaname and Takashi.

The unexpected failure of their koto quest hit both of them hard. They’re both exhausted and under strain. This situation needs to be resolved, and quickly, before it escalates even further. But when Kousuke suggested they bring Natori-san back, Kaname firmly refused. He won’t risk anything that might hurt Asagi. But the koto that Akagane is stubbornly carving isn’t what she needs in order to leave Kaname’s body safely.

Ever since Takashi stopped him from soothing the spirits of Yatsuhara, and made it clear that spirits could actually speak, Kousuke has wanted to talk to them. To reach across the invisible divide so that they can understand each other.

Asagi has been inside of Kaname for days now, but there’s so much Kousuke doesn’t know about her. He’s only glimpsed her in the moments when he and Kaname touch, only heard what Kaname has shared about their internal conversations and blending minds. He needs to see her, talk to her directly.

When they reach Yatsuhara, the boys help him clear out the mess from the car. Nyanko-sensei heads into the house muttering about needing a drink, and Akagane settles in the yard to invisibly continue his carving. The stump is actually starting to look like the body of a koto. He obviously needs to see his plan out to the bitter end.

When they walk into the house, they’re greeted with another mess. Kaname and Asagi were up all night painting, and they left their many watercolors spread out all over the hallway to dry.

When Takashi sees them, he goes horribly pale.

When Kaname sees Takashi’s reaction, he goes horribly pale, too.

“I’m sure these are all dry,” Kousuke says, keeping his tone light. “Let’s get them tidied up.”

He starts gathering the paintings, and after a frozen moment, Kaname does too. But Takashi just stands there looking devastated.

Takashi has been dealing with the spirit world entirely alone for so long. To have Kaname so fully in that world with him must be overwhelming. And meeting Natori-san has been a shock for all of them. To learn that there are other like them, that they didn’t have to be alone—

“Takashi, why don’t you go get cleaned up?” Kousuke says, and guides him to the bath.

When Kousuke returns, he finds Kaname standing in the living room, staring sightlessly at the stack of paintings in his hands.

“Can you tell me about that one?” Kousuke asks, gesturing at the top painting. “You and Asagi were so dedicated to making these, I didn’t want to interrupt you with questions.”

The painting is of the night sky, with the tops of trees at the bottom. A pair of herons are at the center, wings spread in flight, glowing with blue fire.

Kaname doesn’t answer. He’s trembling.

Kousuke takes the paintings from him, puts them down, and hugs him.

When their bodies touch, he finds himself holding Asagi. But underneath it’s still Kaname holding him back, Kaname’s chest hitching with muffled sobs.

“I don’t want her to go,” Kaname admits, in a tight whisper. “I don’t want him to go.”

“Takashi?” Kousuke asks.

Kaname steps back and he’s himself again. He gives an unhappy nod.

“Has he said anything about leaving?”

“No, but— Natori-san—“ Kaname says.

“Ah,” Kousuke says, understanding.

“He can see everything,” Kaname continues. “And I’ll be back to just— Shadows.”

“Is she staying for your sake?”

“No!” Kaname says, distressed. “I wouldn’t do that to her. She really did want to play. But the thought of going home— She can’t face Mibu-sama.”

“Then this is about him,” Kousuke says, thoughtful. “Is she ready to come out again?”

Kaname focuses inward, as he’s done often since Asagi’s arrival. Then he shakes his head.

“We’ll give her some time,” Kousuke says. “And as for Takashi— It’s up to him to decide what he wants. But I think he has many reasons to stay.”

Kaname lets out a shaky breath. “They were beautiful,” he says, quietly. “The herons. They didn’t just glow, it was like— The fire was alive. I knew that if I reached out, it would reach back. Everything feels so alive.”

He looks at Kousuke imploringly, as if asking for permission to keep this. But along with the fervor in his eyes, there’s a familiar fever brewing. This possession, and all the stress that came with it, is taking its toll. This has to end, and soon.

Once Takashi emerges, clean and dressed in his school uniform, Kaname goes for his turn in the bath. Takashi calls the Fujiwaras to let them know he’ll be staying for dinner.

Kousuke understands his son’s fear. Natori-san was quick to get Takashi to agree to be his assistant. He’s charming and successful, skilled at protection, and it’s no small thing that he can See.

But Takashi hasn’t been happy since Natori-san arrived. Kousuke assumed it was because of Kaname’s possession. But even when they were close to success, Takashi was still carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

And their meeting yesterday— Perhaps it comes with the job of exorcist. But Natori-san’s reaction to Asagi and Akagane was aggressive. Takashi goes to great lengths to help any spirit who comes to him. A fundamental difference like that—

And he only has to look at Takashi’s expression as he talks to his parents. The quiet longing he doesn’t try to hide when he thinks no one is watching.

Kousuke goes to the kitchen to start dinner, and gives him some privacy.

During dinner, Kaname tells them that Asagi is waking up. They finish and clean up, and settle in the living room. Nyanko-sensei sits and watches as the three of them sit close together.

Kousuke and Takashi each hold one of Kaname’s hands. They need to talk to Asagi face to face.

“I’m sorry for causing so much trouble,” she says. Her voice and eyes are soft and sad. “You’ve all been so kind. And I—“ Her voice catches with emotion. “Now I am a burden to you, too.”

“You are anything but a burden to us,” Kousuke says, certain. “I know how much you’ve given my son. Not just the sight that has helped him finally see what’s been hidden from him for so long. But the gift of yourself. It’s made him so happy to get to know you, and help you. And it’s made me happy, too. To meet another spirit and speak with them. Thank you.”

Asagi stares at him in surprise. So does Takashi.

“Kaname shared a little of your story with me,” Kousuke continues. “I know you were a skilled koto player, and sickness drove you to leave your home. Your friend Akagane thought it would make you happy to play again.”

“I can’t,” Asagi says. Everything about her overflows with grief.

“The koto is very important to you,” Kousuke observes. “I don’t know much about the music of your world. What first inspired you to play?”

“I—“ Asagi begins, and her expression shifts towards longing. “It was— Soon after I was brought to Isozuki Forest. My life before— Mibu-sama saved me, by taking me in. I had never been anywhere so beautiful. And the air was filled with beautiful music, like I’d never heard before. I felt as though— It reached inside me, to soothe my very soul.” She gives a slight smile. “I wanted to make such beauty.”

“And you did?” Kousuke prompts.

“Yes,” Asagi says. “Mibu-sama heard me practicing, and he asked me to join those who soothe the forest. I was so happy to be able to repay him, to be of use at last. I devoted myself to his service, I played for hours every day. I thought that would be my life forever, and then—“

“And then your sickness,” Kousuke says.

“I had to leave,” Asagi says, grieving again. “If I could not serve Mibu-sama—”

Asagi had been rescued from a terrible situation, one she clearly isn’t ready to talk about. She was brought to safety, but instead of tending to her wounds, she threw herself into service to others. And when she could no longer serve, it must have all caught up with her.

“What do you want to do now?” Kousuke asks.

“There is nothing,” Asagi says. “Akagane should go home and protect Mibu-sama again. He should let me be scattered by the winds.”

“No!” Takashi says, suddenly. “If you go back— Mibu-sama can heal you!”

“Yes,” Asagi agrees, sadly. “But only for a while. I cannot burden him.”

Kousuke wonders how on earth Takashi knew that. Kaname never mentioned it. “Everything has its time,” he says, soberly. “But are you sure this is yours? If there’s a treatment, even if it’s not perfect— Then there’s hope.”

“Even if that’s true,” Asagi says, “I would be unable to serve him. I would be useless.”

“You couldn’t play the koto when you were brought to Isozuki Forest,” Kousuke counters. “We don’t know what we are capable of until we try. Until we give ourselves the chance to learn. And sometimes we can’t do that until we rest and heal. Someone like Mibu-sama must understand that.”

His words surprise her. “You think I should go back? Even though I can’t play?”

“Yes,” Kaname says, Asagi’s expression suddenly turning determined as he takes control again. “I know it’s hard to hope. And it’s really hard to be so sick you can’t do anything. But I saw how much he cares about you. And in your memories— Your music helped so many people, just like that other musician first helped you.”

Asagi’s expression becomes shocked as Kaname slips back again. “I didn’t—“ Her eyes shine with tears.

And then Asagi and Takashi both startle. And a finished koto rushes into the room, held by Akagane’s invisible hands.

Whatever Akagane says, it distresses Asagi. She pulls back her hands, breaking the connection, and then it’s Kaname sitting there again, with Asagi’s expression.

The koto moves closer, then offers itself to Asagi. And then Kaname’s hand is pulled up, and he’s dragged out into the backyard.

Takashi grabs Nyanko-sensei, and the three of them run after Kaname. Kaname pulls free, only to be hauled up and carried with remarkable speed.

“What’s Akagane doing?” Kousuke asks.

“He’s going to Isozuki Forest,” Nyanko-sensei says. “He’s going to take Kaname there so Asagi can play for Mibu-sama.”

Kousuke does not like the sound of that.

They catch up to them in a clearing in the woods. Just a little further and they’d be at the vegetable garden that Kaname made with his friends. But here, the trees and grass around the clearing are glowing blue.

Kousuke thinks of the glowing herons in Asagi’s painting.

“What’s happening?” Takashi asks.

“There was a building of great spiritual power here,” Nyanko-sensei says. “After it was destroyed, the trees and plants absorbed that power. Akagane is using it to open a portal.”

The old shrine would have been where the vegetable garden is now. Here would have been— The kagura hall? He can just make out a few burnt logs and foundation stones.

The trees and grass glow brighter, stirred by a sudden wind. And then—

It’s daytime. They’re still in a forest clearing, but it’s nothing Kousuke recognizes. The burnt logs and foundation stones are nowhere to be seen. And even though Kousuke isn’t touching him, in Kaname’s place, he sees Asagi. He sees Akagane for the first time, with his bandaged head and huge umbrella.

And then a man emerges from the trees, dressed in fine purple robes.

Akagane puts Asagi down. He drops to his knees and bows deeply. “My lord Mibu-sama!”

“Akagane, you have returned,” Mibu-sama says. He looks at Kousuke, at Takashi and Nyanko-sensei. And then his gaze settles on Asagi, and softens. “Asagi, my child. We’ve all been so worried.”

Asagi sobs and covers her face.

“What happened to her?” Mibu-sama asks Akagane. “Why is she in another’s body? Who are these people?”

“A human offered his body to Asagi, my lord,” Akagane says. “I brought them here so that she may once again play the koto for you. She’s been—” His voice chokes with emotion, and then he continues, determined. “I know that if she can just play for you again, she’ll be happy. She’ll smile again. Please, let her play for you!”

Akagane stands and offers up the koto. Mibu-sama takes it, examines it.

“A fine instrument,” Mibu-sama declares. “One I’m sure will make beautiful music.” And he offers the koto to Asagi.

She stares at the koto, but doesn’t reach for it.

“My lord, I—“ she starts. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. This body— Kaname-sama has been so kind to me, I can’t make him stay here. But once I leave him, I cannot play. Please, let me go. I will scatter to the four winds and trouble you no more.”

“Asagi,” Akagane pleads, pained.

“Is that how you feel?” Mibu-sama asks, pained too. “That I’m a tyrant with a cold heart, that would feel nothing at the loss of you?”

“No!” Asagi gasps, horrified. “Of course not! You’re so kind—“

“Then please be kind in return,” Mibu-sama says, gently imploring. “To me, to Akagane. To everyone here who cares about you. There is no need for you to earn your place here. This is your home.”

Tears run down Asagi’s face. “But without Kaname-sama— I’ll fall apart again. I can’t play. I can’t do anything.”

“You can be with us,” Mibu-sama says. “We never needed anything else.”

Asagi gasps. She takes a step forward, and as she does—

She steps right out of Kaname’s body.

Kaname staggers back, and Kousuke and Takashi both rush forward to catch him. Kousuke quickly checks him over. Kaname is dazed, but insists he’s okay.

Asagi turns and smiles at them. “Thank you,” she says, happy at last. “Thank you for everything.”

And then she crumbles into a pile of sand at Mibu-sama’s feet.

“Asagi!!” Akagane cries, and rushes over to the sand. He grabs the gourd that had been hanging from his belt, and the sand pours itself into the gourd. Akagane holds the gourd tenderly.

“Is she all right?” Kousuke asks, shocked.

“She’s in a deep sleep,” Akagane says.

Mibu-sama turns to them. “Thank you for helping her. Is there something I can give you, to repay you?”

Kousuke has a thousand questions he wants to ask. But before he can find the words, Takashi says, “No, thank you. We just want to go home.”

“Then I will remain in your debt,” Mibu-sama declares. “Let’s bring her to the healers.” He holds out his hand.

Akagane hesitates. Then he offers the gourd to Mibu-sama, who holds it with equal tenderness. Mibu-sama gives back the koto.

Akagane looks down at the koto, forlorn. “I failed her.” And he shoves the koto into Takashi’s startled hands.

“You cared for her and brought her home,” Mibu-sama says. “Now come along. She’ll need you by her side.”

And with a gesture of Mibu-sama’s hand, Isozuki Forest is gone, and the spirits along with it.

They’re back in Yatsuhara.

Kaname collapses, and his skin is hot with fever. Kousuke doesn’t panic. He gathers his son up in his arms, and carries him to the shrine.

Chapter Text

As he follows Kousuke-san to the shrine, all Takashi can think is—

They almost— Kaname almost—

He didn’t think his worst nightmares could get any worse. But Kaname being possessed, being taken away, almost lost to another world, and now terribly sick—

It should be him instead. All of this should only be happening to him. Kaname shouldn’t suffer, Kaname should be safe and never see another spirit ever again, never even feel one. Never get another headache or fever, never—

“Let’s get him comfortable,” Kousuke-san says, as he lays Kaname down. “Give me a hand?”

All the familiar supplies from their previous shrine nights are already here. Kousuke-san was ready for this. They lay out the futon and get Kaname settled.

“There,” Kousuke-san says, apparently satisfied. “Now let’s get you home.”

“What?” Takashi says, surprised. He was fully ready to spend the night here too, watching over Kaname, waiting for his fever to come down. Just like Kaname watched over him.

“It’s a school night,” Kousuke-san reminds him. “And your parents are waiting for you.”

Takashi thinks of Natori-san mistaking the Fujiwaras for his birth parents. But he knows Kousuke-san doesn’t mean it like that.

Takashi walks out of the shrine, but it’s hard. What if the shrine treatment doesn’t work this time? What if Kaname’s fever gets worse? What if—

Takashi’s chest hurts. His throat is so tight that the air scrapes him with every breath. He looks out and sees the cemetery, and everything goes blurry.

“Takashi?” Kousuke-san calls, gentle and urgent.

And then Kousuke-san is there, holding him. Like he did the first time Takashi woke up in the shrine. Like he did when he found Takashi after the swallow left him.

“Kaname will be fine,” Kousuke-san soothes, the vibration of his voice carrying into Takashi’s chest. “He’s been through worse than this. He’s very strong. I know he’ll be all right.”

Kousuke-san can’t know that. For all his power, he can’t know that.

But when Kousuke-san lets him go, Takashi finds he can breathe again.

They drive to the Fujiwaras, this time with Takashi in the passenger seat. When they reach the door, Touko-san is there to greet them.

“I’m afraid Kaname came down with a migraine,” Kousuke-san tells her.

“Oh, I thought his headaches were getting better?” Touko-san says, concerned.

“They have been,” Kousuke-san says. “But his migraines have always been a little unpredictable.”

“Of course,” Touko-san says, understanding. Then she turns to Takashi. “I’m sure he’ll be all right,” she soothes. And she reaches out and pets his head.

Something in Takashi rebels at her kindness. It’s his fault that Kaname is hurt. But he still has to resist the urge to lean into her touch.

Kousuke-san bids them goodnight, and goes home to take care of Kaname. Nyanko-sensei follows Touko-san and starts begging for a second dinner. Shigeru-san is in the living room, reading a book.

Takashi should go up to his room and leave them alone. But he missed dinner with them. And he—

He missed them.

And then he’s sitting in the living room. He doesn’t know what to do now that he’s here, what to say. He sits tense, back straight, waiting for a punishment that he’s starting to believe will never come.

Shigeru-san puts aside his book. Looks at him. “How are you feeling? The school said you had to go to the nurse’s office.”

“I’m sorry,” Takashi says. What else can he say?

Shigeru-san gives a soft hum.

From the kitchen, Takashi can hear Touko-san talking to Nyanko-sensei as she dotes on him. From outside, the usual evening sounds. Insects chirping. Other families in the houses around them. Yokai in the forest, some calling like animals, some talking. He can’t make out any words from the humans or the yokai.

“Natori-san’s offer,” Shigeru-san says. “I can see it gave you a lot to think about. We’ll support you in whatever you choose. But I hear the acting business can be very high pressure. If you don’t want to accept, I’ll sort things out with Natori-san and the director.”

Oh. The movie role.

It’s not even real. Just another lie he has to keep up. But the actual offer—

The sealing jar sits unused in his waist pack. It was a test that he failed. Will Natori-san still want him, when he finds out Takashi refused to seal Asagi and Akagane?

“Thank you,” Takashi says. “That’s very kind. But I— I’m still trying to decide.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” Shigeru-san offers.

Takashi can’t talk to him about this! And anyway, he’s always faced his problem alone. He can’t burden the people he lives with even more.

But last night was so awful, all his thoughts going round and round in circles. And all today, too.

If he should talk to anyone, it should be Kousuke-san. A noble being like him would surely have an answer. But he hired Natori-san in the first place. He needs Takashi to help protect Kaname. That’s why he’s helping Takashi stay with the Fujiwaras.

“Natori-san’s offer is incredibly generous,” Takashi says.

That should be the end of it. If Takashi can be useful as Natori-san’s assistant, then that’s what he should be.

He glances over at Shigeru-san, afraid he’ll see annoyance. Shigeru-san is only listening patiently.

But how can Takashi explain the rest? The way the yokai remnants inside him recoil in disgust and anger? The horror he feels himself at the thought of hurting anyone the way Shigure-sama was hurt?

That merchant imprisoned Shigure-sama in his cellar. But it was exorcists who were his jailers, who trapped him and then punished him when he tried to escape.

“But I—“ Takashi says, his throat tight.

He tries to say more. But it’s all too big, too unspeakable.

And then Touko-san comes in, carrying a plate of cookies. “Takashi-kun, would you like some dessert? I saw these at the store today and couldn’t resist. I thought we could share them together.” Then her smile falters. “Oh, is everything all right?”

Immediately Takashi shoves everything down and smiles for her. “Yes, thank you. The cookies look wonderful. Thank you so much.”

Touko-san seems happy again. She holds out the plate, and he takes a cookie, forces himself to eat it and smile.

It’s delicious, even though he has to force himself to swallow it.

After that, he excuses himself and goes to his room.

No yokai come to his window that night, for their names or anything else. Stirred-up yokai memories fill his dreams, good and bad, and all familiar until—

A landscape that’s familiar to him now. Isozuki forest, lush and deep. Did he absorb more memories from Asagi?

He looks down, and his body is male, his robes are purple.

And then he knows whose memories these belong to.

Mibu-sama.

The new memories overtake him.

He has been lord of this wild forest for time immemorial. It’s his duty to care for it and soothe its turbulent heart. Noble gods gather here, and it’s also is his duty to surround them with beauty and elegance. He’s surrounded by skilled artists and artisans, poets and gardeners.

But despite all his success and status, despite the splendor around him, something is missing. He feels an aching loneliness he cannot explain.

And then one day, a young girl is found in his forest. She was wandering alone among the trees and a wild creature attacked her. She was lucky to be found by one of his poets, taking her daily stroll for inspiration.

He visits her as she lies in the healer’s bed. She has no family, no home. She’s starved-thin, and her eyes are too haunted for such a tender age. She begs his forgiveness for her trespass upon his land, begs forgiveness for receiving medicine and food. She offers up her life as payment, expecting him to take it.

Instead he gives her a name. Asagi, after the color of her striking blue eyes and hair.

She’s a skittish thing, and he fears she might disappear at any moment. And then one day, one of his koto players is performing for a visiting noble. He sees her at the edge of the crowd, watching, entranced. The haunted look in her eyes is gone.

And in that moment, he knows two things.

That Asagi will stay. And that her happiness is what finally soothes the ache in his heart.

When Takashi opens his eyes, the dim ceiling is blurry with tears. He blinks them away but more come. He hides his face against the blanket.

The next day, Takashi helps Kitamoto and Nishimura gather notes and homework to bring to Kaname. After school, the three of them go to Yatsuhara together, meeting Nyanko-sensei along the way.

Takashi worries. Will Kaname still have a fever? Will he still be in the shrine? What if Kousuke-san had to take him to the hospital?

But when they reach the temple, Kousuke-san welcomes them inside.

Kaname is awake and sitting on the engawa. He’s still in his pajamas, with a blanket around his shoulders. He smiles when he sees them, but he looks—

He looks sad.

Kitamoto and Nishimura chat with him for a while, and Kaname thanks them for the homework and notes. He says he’s sure he’ll be back at school tomorrow.

When Kitamoto and Nishimura leave, Takashi stays.

Kaname looks out at the backyard, and his smile fades.

“The pond,” he says, distressed. “It’s still there, right?”

Takashi nods.

Kaname takes a shaky breath, and then rubs at his eyes. He’s crying.

Because he can’t see yokai anymore.

Takashi is at a loss. It should be good that Kaname can’t see the spirit world. He should be happier now, relieved, not—

Not grieving.

But he is. And despite himself, despite every reason he has not to, Takashi finds himself grieving with him.

“I’m sorry,” Takashi says, genuinely. “If I couldn’t see anymore—“ If he lost his sight, if he was finally free, if he never had to lie again, if he was never chased or attacked, if—

If he never gave back another name. If he never—

“When we saw Natori-san’s movie. He keeps them away somehow, during filming. So there’s no— It’s only— Humans. And it was amazing and awful and— I always wanted that. But now I think— I’d hate it.”

He’d hate it.

Kaname is looking at him strangely. “Is that why you like his movies? There’s no yokai in them?”

Takashi nods.

“So there’s yokai in other movies?” Kaname asks, curious. He groans in annoyance. “I didn’t even think about watching TV.”

For some reason, that makes a smile tug at Takashi’s lips. And when Kaname sees it, his own expression lightens, then turns wistful.

“I’m happy she’s home,” Kaname says, obviously referring to Asagi. “But I miss her. She wasn’t just a shadow or a feeling. We were part of each other. Ponta said— He said you’d been possessed before. Was it like that for you?”

He looks at Takashi, curious, needing.

And again, Takashi finds himself at a loss for words. He can hardly count his brief possession by the weak yokai of Futaba Village, he wasn’t even aware of them until Nyanko-sensei forced them out. But the swallow—

For a few minutes, they were one.

“Yes,” he says, stunned by his own admission.

And Kaname smiles. A real, happy smile. It makes Takashi’s heart tremble.

And he thinks of Mibu-sama’s memory. His joy at young Asagi’s happiness. And that same joy when Mibu-sama welcomed Asagi home last night, even though she was sick, even though she couldn’t play the koto.

She soothed the ache in his heart.

“Could you tell me about them?” Kaname asks. “The yokai who possessed you?”

“She was a sparrow,” Takashi says, stunned again.

But Kaname understands. He saw the same world Takashi does, he lived in it. And instead of rejecting it, he cherishes it.

“There was a human who helped her,” Takashi continues, the words somehow flowing out. “She needed to see him again, to thank him for taking care of her.”

“Was that— Taniozaki-san?” Kaname asks. “From last week?”

Takashi goes still.

“Dad talked to him, when he found you,” Kaname explains. “That’s what Taniozaki-san said you said. But the sparrow’s not the one who hurt you, is she?” Then Kaname falters. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

Just days ago, Kousuke-san brought Takashi here, burning with fever. Kaname watched over him all night. And then they fed the fish together. They carried away the weeds together.

“It wasn’t her,” Takashi admits. His heart feels like it’s going to shake out of his chest. But he wants to tell Kaname. He wants to share this with his precious friend who accepts him and understands him. Even though saying any of it aloud feels like the end of the world.

He tries to say more, to explain about Tarusaru. But he can’t tell Kaname about the Book of Friends. And he—

He doesn’t want Kaname to be afraid.

When Takashi doesn’t say anything else, Kaname doesn’t press him.

They sit together in silence, looking out at the backyard. At the pond, and at the absence of the pond.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Kaname gets to school early. He walks around the schoolyard and the hallways, and takes note of any powerful yokai he can sense.

He knows he’s not alone here. The school must be just as full of yokai today as it was the day before yesterday, when he could see them. But with Asagi gone, he barely feels anything at all.

Did the world always feel so empty? Were the shadows always so faint? Or has he lost some of the little ability he had?

Dad thinks it’s like walking into a dark room after standing in the sunlight. Kaname’s spirit-senses aren’t gone, they just need time to adjust. He’s probably right. But for now, Kaname feels weak and useless and he hates it. So he’s trying to be useful. Even if the best he can do is nothing compared to Natori Shuuichi.

He goes to the gate and waits. And when Takashi arrives, and sees him, and gives him a real, open, happy smile—

That smile feels like the only thing that could ever matter.

Kitamoto and Nishimura greet him and then head inside, leaving Takashi behind. When Kaname gives him the yokai list, Takashi looks touched, but also worried.

“You don’t have to do all this for me,” Takashi protests. “Especially after—“

“I want to,” Kaname insists. “I know you can’t bring Ponta to school. Maybe he’d say these are all weaklings anyway. But you should be safe here. Safer.”

Takashi actually gives him an exasperated huff. “But I want you to be safer too. Putting yourself in danger for me—“

Kaname wants to say he’ll be careful. But fighting off Akagane was not careful. Volunteering to be possessed was not careful.

Maybe he doesn’t want to be careful anymore. Not like he used to be, afraid to go anywhere because of the inevitable migraines and fevers he would suffer. Takashi freed him from that. Kaname wants to be brave for him. And for himself.

The school bell saves Kaname from having to answer. They hurry inside together. And despite Kaname’s worries about not finding all the dangerous yokai, the two of them reach Takashi’s classroom without any trouble.

At the doorway, Takashi hesitates. Kaname scans the room for trouble, but then realizes Takashi is only looking at him.

The strange intensity of his gaze makes Kaname blush.

“Thank you,” Takashi says, somehow packing an entire book’s worth of meaning into two little words. He walks over to his desk and sits, then looks back again.

It’s just a look. But it makes Kaname’s heart flip.

He walks to his own classroom in a daze.

He’s been trying so hard to push these feelings away. To ignore them, deny them. But the closer he gets to Takashi, the stronger they get.

He doesn’t know what to do.

At his desk, he puts his head down on his arms and gives a muffled groan.

After school, the four of them meet up with Ponta on the way to Yatsuhara. They tend to their vegetable garden, watering the young plants and pulling out the tiny weeds around them. Then they go to the living room to study together. Kaname and Takashi have both missed so many classes lately, and yokai trouble keeps sabotaging their regular study group plans. And Nishimura is still trying to avoid cram school, even though he laments that his mom might make him go no matter what his grades are.

It’s a pleasant afternoon. Ponta has his fill of their study snacks, then curls up for a nap. Kaname tries to avoid looking at the empty backyard, but the reflection of the water and the shadows of the swimming koi are a reassuring sight.

It’s all still there. The pond, all of it. Even though he can’t see it, it’s not gone.

Nishimura and Kitamoto head home. Takashi has to get home too, for dinner with the Fujiwaras.

But he hesitates. Turns to Kaname. “I have a few minutes. Could we— Could you show me your paintings?”

“Yes!” Kaname says, surprised. “Um. They’re in here.”

Takashi follows him to his bedroom. Yesterday, after Takashi left, Kaname spent the evening staring at the paintings, trying to remember everything about those moments while it was all still fresh. But memories fade so fast. He’s grateful to Asagi for her help, for giving him something to hold on to.

The last time Takashi saw these paintings, they upset him. But this time—

There’s still a wariness to him, a worry, like there was this morning when Kaname gave him the list. But he picks up the top painting with care. It’s the heron yokai, burning with blue fire.

“Have you seen them?” Kaname asks.

Takashi nods.

“Have you talked to them?”

“They were too high up,” Takashi says. “And I don’t— It’s not a good idea to talk to yokai you don’t know.”

Kaname supposes that’s true. But talking to people is how you get to know them. Isn’t it the same for yokai?

Takashi flips through some more paintings. Asagi made two portraits of Ponta’s true form, and he lingers on those with fondness. He recognizes more yokai from the forest, and the ones that were around them as they searched for the koto parts. But again, he doesn’t know them beyond their appearance.

And then he stops. It’s a scene from that first night, when Kaname sat near the barrier and watched the busy forest until dawn.

Takashi touches the painted figure.

“Do you know that one?” Kaname asks. It’s a humanoid yokai with a fox head.

“Yes,” Takashi says. He starts searching through the other paintings, obviously checking if this yokai appeared again. Then he stops again, on another painting from that night, but the fox yokai isn’t in this one.

Takashi looks up at him. “Did they talk to you?”

Kaname shakes his head. “Who are they?” Are they dangerous? Friendly? It’s hard to tell from Takashi’s expression.

Takashi hesitates, clearly struggling with something. Then he points at the three yokai in the painting. “The yokai who wanted me to come to their picnic. That’s them.”

“Your yokai friends?!” Kaname says, amazed. What were they called? “The Mid-Ranks?”

Takashi nods. “And the kappa,” he says, pointing to the smaller green one with a duck’s bill.

Then the two bigger ones— That’s the ox and the cyclops. “Did you give them names yet? You said you have to make new ones for them, right?”

“Yes, but— I haven’t,” Takashi says.

“I guess things have been pretty busy,” Kaname says.

Takashi goes back to the painting of the fox yokai. “Did you see her again? Did she talk to you?”

Kaname shakes his head. “Is she dangerous?”

Takashi considers the question. “I don’t think so. But she shouldn’t be here.”

“How do you know her?” Kaname asks.

Takashi hesitates again. “I helped her. She— Knew my grandmother.”

“Like Santo?”

Takashi nods. “Sensei,” he calls. He takes the painting to the living room, where Ponta is still sleeping. He prods the cat with his foot to wake him. “Sensei, have you seen her since—“

Ponta gives a groggy grumble and peers at the painting. “Oh, that one. No, I haven’t. And you interrupted a beautiful dream where I was eating all the manju in Nanatsuji.”

“We have to go home anyway, it’s dinner time,” Takashi tells him.

“Touko’s dinner!” Ponta says, immediately perking up.

“Sensei,” Takashi chides. “If you see this yokai anywhere—“

“She’s not dangerous, stop fretting,” Ponta says.

Takashi gives a frustrated huff. He hands the painting back to Kaname. “I know you can’t see yokai anymore. But if you feel anything strange— Please come to me and don’t try to deal with it on your own.”

“I promise,” Kaname agrees.

He wants to tell Takashi that he has to do the same, and come to him so they can deal with Takashi’s yokai problems together, too. But that brings them right back to their impasse from that morning. And again, time is what saves him from that difficult conversation, as Takashi doesn’t want to be late for dinner.

Dad and Kaname drive Takashi and Ponta home, so the Fujiwaras will believe they’re keeping Takashi safe from his “human stalker”. Kaname doesn’t like having to lie to them. But at least the pretense helps keep Takashi safe from the actual threats.

When they get back, over their own dinner, Kaname shows his dad the two paintings. Takashi’s yokai friends, the nameless ox and cyclops and kappa. And another yokai like Santo, who knew Reiko, who needed Takashi’s help.

“So that’s what they look like?” Dad says, as he examines the yokai friends. “To think they were standing right there in that field with us! I wonder which one of them was trying to attack me. Perhaps the ox? He looks quite strong.”

“What happened, exactly?” Kaname asks. His dad told him at the time, but since then they’ve learned so much about Takashi and yokai. Maybe if they go over it again—

“Let me think,” Dad says, and closes his eyes, furrows his brow. “I went out beyond the barrier, soothing the spirits. The forest was calm, there was nothing unusual. And then Takashi came barreling out of the trees, shouting ‘stop!’ quite desperately. Nyanko-sensei was running after him, yelling. Then Takashi slammed into me — he was running very fast — and he shouted— What was it? He said ‘stop’ and then— I think it started with an M? Mi-something. A name?”

“But he said the ox yokai doesn’t have a name,” Kaname says.

Dad opens his eyes. “Perhaps it wasn’t a name. I was quite dazed. Let me see— Whoever he was yelling at must have stopped. Takashi let go of me. And then Nyanko-sensei started yelling at him, calling him an idiot. He said something about— Giving orders? Oh! And a book!”

“A book?” Kaname says. Could it be— “Takashi’s book?”

“Perhaps,” Dad says. “Looking back now—“

The book Sasada told him about, the one Takashi keeps in his waist pack and carries everywhere. The book he somehow used to calm Shigure-sama. The closest Kaname got to seeing it himself was— When he rescued Takashi’s waist pack in Kiriganuma. “So whatever happened with these yokai friends— The book was involved with that, too?”

“And then there’s his grandmother,” Dad says. “We know Nyanko-sensei knew her, and Santo. And now this fox Takashi is concerned about.”

“Reiko was definitely involved with the yokai around here,” Kaname says. “She must have lived here for a while. I wish I could ask them about her. But everyone talks about Takashi at school. People would have talked about Reiko. Someone human must remember her.”

“How long ago would it have been?” Dad wonders.

“He said Reiko died young,” Kaname recalls. “And so did his mother. So maybe around— Fifty years?”

“No more than that,” Dad agrees. “Perhaps I’ll ask around.”

“But if people know you’re asking about Takashi’s grandmother—“ Kaname starts, concerned. The rumor mill will spread it like wildfire.

“I’ll be discreet,” Dad promises.

Even though Kaname is still convinced Takashi will be leaving with Natori-san any day now— “I don’t want us to do anything that— Makes it harder for him to live here.”

Dad gives him a curious look. “Is this about Natori-san?”

“No,” Kaname protests. “Maybe. I just—“ The thought of Takashi leaving, and never seeing him again— And all of Kaname’s stupid, unnecessary feelings—

His eyes are suddenly damp.

His dad’s expression shifts to concern. To listening.

His dad has always been there for him. Even though he’s has never been able to see or feel any of the spirit world. Even though Kaname’s spent half his life sick and all of it scared.

“When I’m with him— Takashi, I—“ Kaname stops, swallows. “Maybe it’s just— How crazy everything’s been. Or not always having a migraine, or— I don’t know. I don’t know, I’ve never— Felt this way. About someone. That if they left—“

If Takashi left, it would break his heart.

And it feels like his heart is doomed to be broken. Because Takashi doesn’t know how to stay. And Kaname barely knows how to stay, after spending his whole life moving from place to place, cut off from deeper connections by his health and his fear.

“You care about him,” his dad offers.

“I think I love him,” Kaname says. The feeling building and building inside him— “Or maybe I just— How do you know if it’s friendship, or—”

“Well,” Dad says, surprised. “There are all kinds of love. Some friendships can be very deep. Every relationship is different. But if you have— Romantic feelings towards him—“

Kaname blushes and covers his face with his hands. Then he peeks out between his fingers.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dad says, gently amused.

Kaname drops his hands and groans. “I thought he had a crush on Natori-san. But he was interested in him because there’s no yokai in his movies. But now Natori-san could give him this whole amazing life and why wouldn’t he want that but if he takes it then he’ll leave. And he’ll probably never feel this way about me and I can’t ruin our friendship or scare him away, so I can’t tell him, but every time I see him I want to tell him.” He groans again.

Then he realizes his dad is smiling. He’s delighted.

“Why are you so happy?” Kaname grumbles. “This is a disaster.”

“I’m sorry,” Dad says, but now he’s grinning. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, and sobers his expression. “It must be terribly stressful. But—“ He reaches out and takes Kaname’s hand, holds it. “This is a wonderful thing. No matter what happens. To love someone, to let them into your heart— I’m so proud of you.”

“Dad,” Kaname protests, blushing again. He takes back his hand and crosses his arms, slumps back.

“Alright, I’ll stop,” Dad says. “Would you like some advice?”

“Please,” Kaname says, feeling desperate.

“The situation is delicate,” Dad agrees. “I think telling Takashi your feelings— You’re right, he might not be ready to receive them. Whether he returns them or not.”

“Yeah,” Kaname admits.

“But we can’t deny our feelings. For good or ill. We must accept them, embrace them,” Dad says. “If you put them into your actions, treat him with love— I think even as a friend, he’ll be able to receive them that way.”

Kaname considers that. “Okay. But what do I actually do?”

Dad gives an amused huff. Then he leans back in his chair and turns wistful. “I wish your mother could be here to see this. To guide you in her own way.”

He closes his eyes, perhaps to think of her. Then he looks at Kaname directly. “You’re afraid that Takashi will leave, and that he won’t return your feelings. But fear is a poison to love. He may never return your feelings. He may leave you. You can’t control any of that. But right now he is here, already receiving your love. How amazing is that?”

Kaname’s eyes are damp again, and he wipes them. “Yeah,” he admits. “He’s really—“

It is amazing. That they found each other here. That they became friends. That they found the shrine treatment together. That they’ve already shared so much.

“Nothing is permanent,” Dad says, gently. “I wish I could have had longer with your mother. But I love her every day, and I still feel her love. So I put that love into my actions. Into kindness, compassion. For you, for myself. For Takashi and everyone around us.”

Kaname knows that’s true.

Takashi should know how it feels to be so loved.

Kaname goes over to his dad and hugs him tightly.

“Oh!” his dad says. “Now I remember. Misuzu!”

“Misuzu?” Kaname asks, pulling back.

“What Takashi said when he grabbed me,” Dad says. “He shouted, ’Stop, Misuzu!’”

“Misuzu,” Kaname says again, considering. “So it was a name?”

“Perhaps it was another yokai who was trying to attack me?” Dad wonders. “Another of his friends? Whoever it was, they listened to him.”

“I guess they did,” Kaname says. Knowing what he knows now— If Takashi was that scared even with Ponta there, it must have been a powerful yokai. Like when Takashi was attacked here, just after his yokai friends tried to invite him to a picnic, and Dad purified the yokai to save him.

Was that the same yokai? Probably not, since that one obviously didn’t stop because Takashi told it to. So it’s a different one, a powerful but friendly one called Misuzu.

“Misuzu must live in the forests here, just like the ox and cyclops and kappa.” Kaname realizes.

“Is this Misuzu in any of Asagi’s paintings?” Dad asks, intrigued.

“I don’t think so,” Kaname says. Takashi didn’t say anything. Would he have lied about that? Maybe. But he did point out his yokai friends, and the fox yokai he knows that apparently isn’t as friendly, but who Ponta isn’t worried about.

“I’d like to be on good terms with our spirit world neighbors,” Dad says. “What do you think about making some offerings in the forest? There are small shrines scattered around. I’d like to do something to make up for purifying everyone when you first arrived.”

“Yeah, me too,” Kaname says.

“Then I’ll map out a route for us tomorrow while you’re at school,” Dad decides. “We’ll start making regular offerings together. Maybe Takashi and Nyanko-sensei can join us.”

“I think he’d like that,” Kaname says. He knows how important shrine offerings are to Takashi. To both of them.

After dinner, Kaname goes back to his room and pins the two paintings up on the wall over his desk, as well as one of the Ponta ones, and a painting of the pond. He looks out at the backyard, at the forest, and wonders if he’ll get to meet this Misuzu someday.

Then he calls Sasada to see how she’s doing, and share the little he can about himself. They talk about school and parents, and everything but Takashi and yokai.

It’s not as long a call as he’d like it to be. Avoiding so much is difficult, and leaves Kaname restless. He goes back to his room again, and picks up the koto that Asagi and Akagane left behind.

He plucks a few strings. When Asagi was with him, he knew how to play, because she knew how to play, even though she was afraid to actually do it. But all that knowledge left with her.

She wanted to play. She really did. The koto means so much to her. It’s her solace, her savior. It’s her place in the world, her belonging, her connection with Mibu-sama and Akagane and everyone she cares about.

All that weight on one thing.

Outside of it, she feels worthless. How could she belong without it? How could she be worth anyone’s care? There’s so much pain in her that she tries so hard to ignore.

But feelings can’t be ignored. For good or ill.

He’s glad she’s home, and letting herself be cared for. But he wishes he could go back to Isozuki Forest and help her. Not by sharing his body again, but by talking to her, being her friend. He wants to be there when she recovers, so he can give her back this koto they made together and hear her play it.

He hopes someday he will.

He sets the koto aside and he picks up his own guitar. He knows how to play this with his own knowledge and muscle memory. But he’s not anywhere near Asagi’s skill.

He wants to play for Takashi. He wants to put his love into the music so Takashi can feel it and be soothed by it.

But he’s going to need a lot more practice.

In the morning, as Kaname is getting ready for school, Natori-san calls.

“I wanted to ask how Tanuma-kun is doing,” Natori-san says to Dad, as Kaname listens in, their heads pressed together over the receiver.

“He’s no longer possessed,” Dad says. “Asagi and Akagane are gone.”

“I’m very glad to hear it,” Natori-san says. “Now that that’s resolved, would you like to go ahead with Kiriganuma?”

“Yes, we would,” Dad says. “Did you find anything in your investigation?”

“Quite a bit,” Natori-san says. “But I was just hired for another job in your area, a small one, it shouldn’t take long. I want you to bring your son and Natsume there. As my assistants, they need training and experience.”

“That does seem wise,” Dad agrees.

“Wonderful! I’m meeting the client Saturday morning,” Natori-san says. He gives them the client’s name and address and the meeting time. “After that we’ll make a plan for Kiriganuma. I think we could take care of both this weekend, if that works for you?”

“It does,” Dad says. “Thank you, Natori-san. We appreciate your patience and understanding.”

“I just hope your son learned his lesson about playing around with spirits,” Natori-san says.

“He certainly did,” Dad agrees.

“‘Learned my lesson’?” Kaname says, skeptically, after the call ends.

“We did learn a great deal,” Dad says. “And I think there’s a great deal we can learn from Natori-san. Now that he’s not your romantic rival.”

“Dad!” Kaname protests, his face immediately hot with embarrassment.

But his dad keeps smiling. “Your mother would be very disappointed in me if I didn’t tease you about this just a little.”

“Never say that in front of Natori-san,” Kaname demands. “Or Takashi. Or anyone ever.”

“I would never,” Dad promises, his hand over his heart.

Kaname gives him one last embarrassed glare, then lets it go. “I have to get to school,” he says, and grabs his bag.

As he heads off, and his burning embarrassment cools— Even though he’s skeptical about Natori-san, even though he still can’t help but see Natori-san as a threat to his life with Takashi here— He does want to learn everything he can from him. And given how frightening the earth spirits were, he’s grateful that Natori-san wants to give them a warm-up first.

After all, if Takashi does become his assistant, does leave Hitoyoshi to be with him—

Kaname isn’t ready to let him go. So he has to put his feelings into action— And stay with him no matter where he goes.

Chapter Text

A small exorcism job. Something easy, for training and experience, before they return to Kiriganuma tomorrow.

Takashi watches the passing scenery through the car window, and holds Nyanko-sensei close. Kousuke-san told the Fujiwaras that he was taking them to visit nearby Sakaki so that both boys could get to know the area better. More exploring, like their trip to Moriguchi, but a town instead of an abandoned train station.

Not that a town is any safer for them. His stomach is knotted with dread, for today and tomorrow. It’s one thing to help yokai who come to him for help, or to scare away yokai who want to eat him or take the Book. Intentionally facing off against dangerous yokai— There’s so many ways it could go wrong.

They park a block away from the client’s home, as instructed, and Natori-san is there to greet them.

“Tanuma-san, it’s good to see you again,” Natori-san says, cheerful.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Kousuke-san says. He glances around. “Did you park your car somewhere else?”

“Oh, I prefer public transit,” Natori-san says. He strikes a movie star pose with a glittering smile. “To see and be seen.” Then he turns to Kaname and looks at him intensely. “Tanuma-kun, you’re looking much better,” he decides. “I hope you’re not feeling any ill-effects from such a serious possession?”

“I feel well, thank you,” Kaname says, a little stiffly.

“Very good,” Natori-san says. Then he turns to Takashi. “Natsume-kun,” he calls, ending his name with a lilt.

“Natori-san,” Takashi greets.

With Asagi on his mind, and the empty sealing jar in his waist pack, Takashi braces himself for Natori-san’s disappointment. But Natori-san doesn’t ask about the jar.

“This is going to be a very educational day for you,” Natori-san says to him. “For both my new apprentices,” he tells Kaname, pointedly. “Being an exorcist means knowing how to handle spirits. But it’s just as important to be skilled at handling people. Don’t worry, I’ll do all the talking today. But I want you two to observe and learn.”

Takashi’s knot of dread only grows at the idea of handling people, and even worse, people and yokai together. But Kaname turns determined, and seems eager to learn. Takashi has to be as brave as him.

As they approach the front gate, Natori-san stops. “Ah, one more thing. Your ‘master’ needs to wait out here.” He chuckles. “We can hardly bring a cat to a client’s house.”

Nyanko-sensei harumphs, and slips right out of Takashi’s firm hug. “Like I want to listen to a bunch of tedious humans.” He leaps up onto the gate wall, stretches, and lays out in the sunshine. “I’ll be taking a luxurious nap. If they serve you anything good, bring me back a snack.”

“Should I also wait here?” Kousuke-san asks.

“Not at all,” Natori-san declares. “You’re not just a client anymore. I’d like you to know what your son’s new job will be like. And besides, as a priest, I’m sure you’ve done your fair share of exorcisms.”

“Ah, I suppose I have,” Kousuke-san admits.

“Excellent! Who knows, you might even be able to give us a hand,” Natori-san says. Then he leads the way through the open gate.

Inside is a large property with a beautiful traditional house and garden, one that obviously belongs to a wealthy family. A man greets them at the door and welcomes them inside to sit around a table, with tea and snacks. There’s another man there, one who looks rather tired and stressed.

“I can’t believe it’s really you, Natori-san,” says the first man. “My wife just loves your movies.”

“I’d be delighted to sign something for her,” Natori-san offers. “But first, let me introduce my team.” He introduces them to Shouji-san, the owner of the estate. Shouji-san introduces the second man, Isa-san.

Takashi gets a bad feeling from Isa-san. And Kaname discreetly rubs his head like it hurts. They glance at each other in shared concern. But Natori-san told them to observe, so they both keep quiet.

“Isa-san is a pawnbroker,” Shouji-san admits. “My family has a treasury where a some valuables are stored. Things have been a little tight recently, so I hired him to look through the contents and see if there was anything worth selling.”

“And was there?” Natori-san asks.

“Yes,” says Shouji-san. “He took a few things away for evaluation. And since then—“ He gestures for Isa-san to speak.

“After that day, I started having nightmares,” Isa-san says. “I wouldn’t have thought anything of it. But they kept happening, night after night, and then— The accidents began. I thought they were because I was tired. But—“ He swallows, growing agitated. “They’ve been getting more dangerous. And I always feel like someone is there, watching me. And one of the accidents— I was alone, and I felt someone push me. I definitely felt someone push me!”

“This treasury,” Shouji-san explains. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve heard stories about it being cursed. That if anyone outside the family went into it, bad things would happen. But I thought it was just stories! Meant to scare people away from our valuables! Curses, monsters— They’re fantasies for children, not reality!”

Takashi tries not to flinch. He’s heard the same angry, dismissive words from so many people.

He expected that anyone who hired an exorcist would accept that yokai are real. But Shouji-san and Isa-san don’t want to know about the things they can’t perceive. They only want their problems to go away. It’s always the same.

Shouji-san’s flare of anger fades, revealing fear and frustration. “Isa-san is afraid for his life. He’s a good man, clear-headed, responsible. If something happens to him because of me— It would be my fault. Please tell me you can help.“

“I can,” Natori-san assures them. “The items you took away for evaluation. Have you tried putting them back?”

“We did,” Shouji-san says. “But it didn’t help.”

Isa-san reaches for his tea, and when his sleeve pulls back— At first Takashi thinks it’s a tattoo. But then the black ink ripples. He can’t help but gasp in surprise.

Everyone looks at him. Takashi’s face is immediately hot with embarrassment. “Sorry,” he mutters.

Natori-san gives him a curious glance, and as he does— That shadowy lizard crawls up his neck and settles on his cheek.

It looks like black ink, too.

Natori-san turns back to the clients. “Curses can be tricky. If returning the items didn’t end it, then we must deal with the source of the curse. My team and I will need to investigate your treasury.”

“Of course,” Shouji-san says, already relieved. “Anything you need.” Then he hesitates. “Do I have to go there with you?”

“Just the key will be fine,” Natori-san says. “And I promise you, your valuables will be safe.”

“Of course, of course,” Shouji-san says, laughing nervously at how ridiculous an idea it is that famous actor Natori Shuuichi might steal from him. “Thank you. I’m sure all this nonsense will be resolved and everything will go back to normal. Curses, how absurd!” Then he turns back to Isa-san and pats him on the shoulder. “Everything will be fine.”

Isa-san gives Natori-san a hopeful, desperate look.

“Curses and monsters can be quite a nuisance,” Natori-san tells them, confidently dismissive. “I assure you, anything we find will be thoroughly exorcised.”

Both clients are pleased by this.

Natori-san takes an omamori from his jacket pocket and gives it to Isa-san. “You should go home and rest. Place this on the inside of your door. It will help protect you until this is over.”

Isa-san actually looks like he might cry. “Thank you, thank you so much,” he says, bowing in gratitude.

“Now,” Natori-san says to Shouji-san, shifting back into movie star mode. “What would you like me to sign for your wife?”

The treasury is in a separate building at the back of the property. After Shouji-san gives them the key and directions, they return to Nyanko-sensei, and Takashi gives him the cookie he saved. Pleased, the cat hops down from the wall and onto his shoulder.

“You saw something in there,” Natori-san observes.

“It looked like a tattoo,” Takashi admits. “On Isa-san’s arm. I just saw a glimpse, but— It moved.”

Natori-san’s expression is hard to read. “Many curses appear as writing on the skin. Could you see it, Tanuma-kun?”

Kaname shakes his head. “But I felt something. It’s hard to describe, but it seemed— Hostile.”

“Yes,” Takashi agrees.

“You’re both quite sensitive,” Natori-san says, approving. “I felt it myself. As for the tattoo, my Sight has never been as good as I would like.” He reaches up and adjusts his glasses. “Curses are a particular interest of mine. They’re quite common and can be extremely dangerous. Especially as there are few ways to shield yourself from them. Often the only way to end a curse is to stop it at the source. So whatever dangerous yokai is lurking in that treasury, we must exorcise it.”

The last he says with emphasis, obviously warning against any pro-yokai sentiments.

“Normally I send my shiki ahead to investigate for me,” Natori-san continues. “But this is a perfect learning opportunity for you. Follow me, but be careful. We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”

Nyanko-sensei gives a dismissive huff from his perch on Takashi’s shoulder. Sometimes Nyanko-sensei’s lack of worry is reassuring, and sometimes it’s frustrating. Usually it’s both.

They walk around the house to the back of the property. They turn the corner, and as the entrance to the treasury come into view—

Natori-san stops short.

Takashi immediately braces for danger.

There’s a woman sitting on the steps of the treasury. She has straight blond hair, and she’s wearing a grey yukata and a dark robe. She looks like a human, but she’s probably a yokai. Her face is completely covered by a mask with horns and one large eye, and there’s a rope tied in a noose around her neck.

“It’s you!” Natori-san says, shocked. He seems to recognize her.

“Is there something there?” Kaname asks Takashi. “I can see a shadow. Ponta, is it dangerous?“

Nyanko-sensei gives another dismissive huff. But he doesn’t leave Takashi’s shoulder. This yokai must not be completely harmless.

Natori-san approaches the steps.

“This place— I didn’t remember it before,” Natori-san says. “Is it really you?”

“The human child,” the yokai says. She seems to recognize him back. Her voice is tired, her slumped posture defeated. “You’re an exorcist now.”

“Your hands are still bleeding,” Natori-san says.

He’s been so dismissive of yokai, even cruel. But he cares about this one?

The yokai holds up her right hand. Her fingers are rough and bleeding, her nails broken. The bandage wrapped around her hand and arm has come loose.

“I thought I imagined you,” Natori-san says. Then he looks at the noose around her neck. The other end of the rope is fixed to the treasury wall. “You’re the one who cursed that man,” he realizes, sobering.

“Yes,” the yokai says. She doesn’t seem happy about what she’s done.

Natori-san stands and walks around the yokai. He closely inspects where the rope has been fixed to the wall.

“It’s all right, it’s safe,” he calls.

Takashi and the Tanumas move closer.

“You know this yokai?” Kousuke-san asks.

“Yes,” Natori-san admits. “I’d forgotten. I must have come here when I was a child.”

“Then it’s not dangerous?” Kaname asks, hopeful.

“It’s not as common these days,” Natori-san continues. “But useful yokai can be bound to a property to protect it.” He points to the rope, and the metal spike that joins it to the building. “If you enter that treasury, you’ll die. Not right away, curses like this are slow. They’re meant as a warning to others. Victims can suffer for some time before they have one accident too many.”

“How awful!” Kousuke-san says, alarmed.

All Takashi can think about is Shigure-sama. The luck god was bound to the property of that rich merchant to protect it. Trapped there, for years and years, suffering and alone.

Determined, Takashi walks right up to the yokai. Nyanko-sensei hops down from his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Takashi tells her. He looks at her hands, bleeding and torn. There are scratches on the wall all around the spike. How long has she been trying to free herself? Shigure-sama’s painful memories flash before his eyes, through his body. “We’re going to help you. Please, let me—“ He reaches for the loose bandage, needing to do something, anything to help her.

She holds out her hand. His hands tremble as he rewraps the bandage. But just as he ties it off, she tenses.

“What’s wrong?” Takashi says, worried he hurt her.

“Stand back,” Natori-san warns. He quickly steps away from the treasury, and pulls Takashi along with him.

The rope around the yokai’s neck twitches. The yokai stands, then starts to slowly walk away from the treasury, towards the back gate.

“It’s the curse,” Natori-san warns. “She’s going after Isa-san again. We have to stop her.” Then he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out two paper dolls. “Sasago, Urihime!” he calls. The paper dolls turn to smoke, and the smoke becomes the two shiki. “Stop her!”

Sasago and Urihime rush over to the yokai. Urihime’s black hair stretches out and wraps around the yokai, binding her tightly and holding her in place. Sasago stands between the yokai and the gate, ready for a fight.

The yokai doesn’t struggle to free herself. But as she stands there, bound, she begins to choke.

“The rope!” Sasago realizes, alarmed. “It’s strangling her!”

“Get it off her!” Natori-san orders.

When Sasago touches the noose, an explosion of energy blows her and Urihime away from the yokai. They lie on the ground, groaning and dazed. The yokai resumes walking forward and the noose loosens enough to stop strangling her. But when she pauses at the gate to open it, the noose tightens again. Then it loosens as she walks through.

“If she doesn’t go after Isa-san, the curse will kill her,” Natori-san realizes. “But the curse has been escalating. If she attacks Isa-san again she might kill him.”

“What about the omamori you gave him?” Kousuke-san asks.

“That won’t be enough,” Natori-san says. “I know what to do. We just need to get ahead of her.”

They hurry to Kousuke-san’s car. On the street, they see Isa-san walking home, and the yokai trailing behind him, with the rope trailing behind her.

“Isa-san,” Natori-san calls. “Please come with us.”

“Natori-san?” Isa-san says, then he grows worried. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” Natori-san says. “We need to go to your house immediately.”

Isa-san squeezes into the back seat with Takashi, Nyanko-sensei, and Kaname, and they hurry to his address. The yokai doesn’t run after them, but continues at the same steady pace.

Isa-san’s property is more modest than Shouji-san’s, but it’s still big enough to have a gate and a large front yard with a wide pathway.

“Get in the house and put up the omamori,” Natori-san tells him. “When it’s safe, we’ll come get you.”

Isa-san is terrified. He hurries inside and slams the door behind him. Urihime stands guard in front of the house, her hair ready to grab. Sasago stands on the gate roof to watch for the yokai’s arrival.

Natori-san takes out a short stick and starts drawing a large circle on the gravel path.

“This circle will lift her curse,” Natori-san says. “But it’s risky. There’s only a fifty-fifty chance she’ll survive.“

“We can’t let her die!” Takashi insists. “We have to save her!”

“She’ll go on in peace,” Natori-san insists. He falters, then keeps drawing.

“There must be something we can do,” Kaname says. “You said you want to teach us. Please let us help.”

Natori-san hesitates, and looks to Kousuke-san.

“Please find a way,” Kousuke-san asks.

Natori-san sighs. Then he wipes out some of the symbols in the circle with his foot, and draws new symbols. “This will take a lot of power. It won’t be pleasant. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Takashi is sure. But he doesn’t want Kaname to be hurt. He’s ready to insist that his own additional power will be enough, that Kaname doesn’t have to put himself in danger.

But when he looks to Kaname, Kaname looks back with utter determination. He wants to do this, just like he wanted to help Asagi. Takashi can’t refuse him.

“Sensei, will you help us?” Takashi pleads. If Nyanko-sensei lends his power too, that should protect Kaname.

Nyanko-sensei gives an annoyed sigh. “If I refuse, will you idiots stop putting yourselves in danger for no good reason?”

“No,” Takashi says, firmly.

“Ugh, fine,” Nyanko-sensei grumbles.

Natori-san finishes the circle and positions them around it, and tells them to stand with their feet touching only the outer line. “The outer circle will draw on our energy to power the spell. The inner circle contains the spell. Don’t cross inside once it’s activated or you’ll be caught in the spell.”

“She’s here!” Sasago warns. She flies down and joins Urihime in guarding Isa-san.

“Brace yourselves,” Natori-san warns. He positions himself at the head of the circle, facing the gate. He presses his palms together and bows his head.

The yokai walks in through the gate, her pace still steady. She sees the circle, sees them waiting, but doesn’t hesitate or change direction.

She knows what’s coming. She wants this curse to end, whatever it takes.

The moment she enters the inner circle, the spell activates. It’s so much like when he gives back a name. He feels the spell pulling at him, drawing power from him. The circle and symbols glow, then turn a bright, blinding white, radiant with their collective power.

Within the circle, the yokai cries out in pain. And then Kaname cries out in pain. But it’s too late to stop the spell. It’s strong, and it’s hungry, as if it senses how much power is inside of Takashi.

Take it, he tells the spell. Take it and save her, save Kaname, please, please!

The spell takes.

It takes too much. With a cry, Takashi passes out.

Chapter Text

For as long as there has been god of this mountain, she has served that god.

Even though she’s a devoted guardian and will defend her god with all her strength, her existence is mostly peaceful. She watches over the plants and the animals, the rocks and the streams. She watches the falling of rains and snows, and listens to rumbling thunder as it rolls across the sky.

When humans arrive and begin to worship the mountain, she begins to watch over them, too. They cannot see her, but she finds herself drawn to them, intrigued by them. She finds herself changing to reflect them, their clothes, their ways, their weapons. Each change is as natural as the passing of the seasons, and the slow, slow erosion of the mountain by wind and water.

One day, she meets a human that’s able to see her. It’s a shock at first, to be looked at by a human when she is so used to them looking through her. He talks to her. He is rare among his kind, she discovers, but not unique. His Sight makes him a shaman, and he is a devoted guardian of humanity.

But his Sight also makes him different from the other humans. And just as she was drawn away from the mountain peaks by humanity, he is drawn away from them, and up into the foothills.

They fall in love. But she is undying and he is not. In her grief, she returns to the mountain peaks.

With time, she’s drawn back down again. And inevitably, she meets more of these rare humans who can see her. Each of them is different from her first human in their own way. Some are kind, some cruel. She does her best to avoid the cruel ones, but sometimes she must fight them. To defend the mountain, she even kills one, then another.

She becomes a monster in the stories the humans tell their children. A warning to stay away from the mountain, to respect the land and not abuse it. In their blind imaginations, she takes many terrifying shapes. But to her relief, she does not change to become them.

And then one day, a group of humans come, led by a shaman without Sight but with great power. They call her the monster of their imaginations, and catch her, bind her.

At first she is only their prisoner. But then a Sighted human comes, and explains that she is no monster. On her behalf, he asks to return her to the mountains. But they refuse him.

Instead, the shaman gives her a name, and binds her to him. She becomes a shiki, a servant of humanity. And as their devoted guardian, she defends them with all her strength. And she needs that strength, as life among humans is a violent one. Humans and their emotions create endless monsters for her to fight.

When the shaman dies, she’s transferred to another shaman. Then another, who calls himself an exorcist. Then a rich man buys her. Then the rich man sells her to another rich man. He destroys her shiki name and binds her with a curse. A cruel curse driven by his endless thirst for money and power.

If anyone tries to steal from him, they will know fear, then suffering, then an early death.

She has no choice but to carry it out. She doesn’t have the strength to free herself, though she never stops trying. As the rich man grows old, the curse is altered so it will not harm his bloodline. But he also grows paranoid, so the intent to steal is no longer required. Only that a person enters his treasury, comes near his wealth. Even the innocent must suffer and die.

And she is forced to carry it out.

In her moments of despair, she lets the noose tighten around her neck. She could let it close completely and cut her head from her shoulders. But every time she tries, she falters. She sees the mountain in the distance, and knows her god would not want her to lose hope. That one day this suffering will end, and her long and varied life will change yet again.

And then one day, a young boy appears. A yokai is living on his body, a shadowy lizard that crawls along his skin. The boy can see her.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” the boy asks, worried for her. The first care she’s been given by a human in so long. “What a weird mask. Hey, your hands are bleeding!”

He reaches out to her.

He sits with her on the steps of the treasury, oblivious to the wealth inside. She’s grateful that he doesn’t try to open the door, because she doesn’t want to have to torture and kill this kind, innocent child.

“When I tripped and fell, my mom wrapped up my hand like this,” he tells her, as he stares at the gauze he’s winding around her arm. “She’s not around anymore, though. She was weak and got sick. My uncles said it was my fault for bringing back luck. I’m bad luck ‘cause I see weird things like you.”

His movements slow as he reaches her wrist and hand. “But I think— If I’m bad luck, they should’ve got rid of me. Then she’d still be okay. I wish they’d done that.”

There’s a waver in his voice, but he skillfully ties off the gauze. He seems rather young to be so experienced with healer’s work, to carry gauze with him that he can share. She’s a curse now, not a guardian, but she wishes she could guard this child. Protect him from the cruelties of humanity.

“You talk a lot,” she tells him. She’s not used to being talked to so much anymore. “Listen to me. Humans don’t have the power to bring bad luck. You’re simply a child. A nice, normal child.”

“Really?” the boy says, surprised, unsure.

“Yes,” she says, certain with all of her years. She reaches out and touches him, pets his hair with her bandaged hand. “After all, meeting you has brought me so much joy.”

He blushes at her praise, and smiles shyly. In that moment, they are kindred spirits, and she remembers feeling like this with her first human.

But this boy is only a child. He cannot save her, so she cannot save him. She can only cherish the memory he leaves behind. But that memory, like the sight of her mountain, gives her enough hope to keep living.

Keep living…

He comes back to himself slowly. That long, strange dream— It was so vivid, so real. Memories of a life he never lived. It reminds him of Asagi’s memories, how she shared moments of her past with him. But she’s gone now.

“Kaname?” Dad calls, with familiar worry.

Kaname groans, and struggles to open his eyes. His body feels so heavy, and his head hurts. What happened to him?

Then he remembers. The spell! It feels like it happened a thousand years ago, but also just now.

Even stranger, he remembers being surprised by everything about it, especially the way it pulled the strength from him until he passed out. But now the whole thing also feels mundane, as if he’s done a thousand spells. Maybe it’s just how doing a spell like that makes people feel. Maybe Takashi—

“Takashi!” His eyes open wide. Dad is leaning over him, his worried expression easing to relief. He feels the grass beneath him. He looks around, and sees Takashi lying on the ground too, unconscious. Natori-san and Ponta are sitting, dazed but apparently unharmed.

The dream felt like it took centuries, but it must have only lasted a few moments. He struggles to reorient himself, to shake off the dream and remember being himself again. It felt so real.

“Takashi,” Kaname says, as Dad helps him up. Kaname crawls over to him, desperate with worry. Takashi gives a soft groan and his lashes flutter. He’s waking up.

“Are you okay?” Kaname asks, as Takashi’s eyes open and focus.

As soon as they do, Takashi sits up, urgent. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Kaname assures him.

Takashi looks past him. “She’s free.” He seems shockingly relieved, eyes tearing up before he wipes them away. “She’s finally free.”

Kaname looks at the spell circle, and as before all he can see of the yokai is a shadow. But the hostile feeling from the curse is gone, and so are the sharp pains it was giving him.

Natori-san gives Takashi a curious look. But he’s relieved, too. “She is. Thank you.” He stands up and then reaches out to the shadow. The hazy shadow seems to take his hand and stand, too.

“How are you feeling?” Natori-san asks the yokai.

Kaname can’t hear the answer.

“Sasago, Urihime, take her to my place,” Natori orders. “We’ll meet you there.”

The shadows of the two shiki come over, and then all three shadows disappear.

Takashi groans and lies back down again.

“You two take it easy,” Natori-san says. “That was a powerful spell.” He turns to Dad. “They should be fine after a rest. Let’s get them to my apartment. It’s not far.”

Natori-san wipes away the spell circle, then tells Isa-san that his curse is broken. Natori-san still needs to return to the treasury to clear away the remnants of the curse, and check for any other spells. But all that can wait.

Back in the car, Kaname and Takashi both end up dozing. Fragments of the dream flash through Kaname’s mind. He realizes the treasury in the dream was the same as the one they were just at. But the dream was so long, it only makes sense that some of it would come from his actual experiences.

They arrive at an upscale apartment building. The elevator brings them up, and they enter Natori-san’s apartment.

“Sorry, my place is pretty empty,” Natori-san says, apologizing before they can even say anything.

It really is empty. There’s the basics: some furniture, a large TV, a few other signs of life. But otherwise there’s barely any evidence that someone lives here.

“I rent this place for work,” Natori-san continues. “I just come here to sleep. My house is too far away, so I only go back to grab my tools.”

There are three inner doors, one to the bathroom and two to bedrooms. Ponta opens one of the bedroom doors, but it’s dark inside. Natori-san walks past him and turns on the light.

There’s a shadow lying on the bed, and two more standing nearby. The shikis and the rescued yokai.

“She’s sleeping,” Natori-san says. He looks at the shadow with surprising tenderness. “She’s all right.”

Kaname glances over to Takashi, and is surprised by the open emotion on his face, relief and happiness. It’s rare to see him so unguarded. Why is he reacting to this yokai so strongly?

Kaname thinks about his strange dream. He was a female yokai in the dream, and she was cursed to guard that treasury. But that was only a story he imagined. It can’t have anything to do with the actual yokai lying on Natori-san’s bed.

Natori-san leaves the yokai and heads for the front door. “Exorcisms always work up an appetite, but I don’t have any food here. You stay here and get some rest while I pick something up. I won’t be long.”

“May I come with you?” Dad asks. “I have some questions about today.”

“Of course,” Natori-san says.

“Do you mind if I go?” Dad asks Kaname.

“It’s fine, we’ll just be resting,” Kaname says. He knows his dad must be brimming with questions for Natori-san. “And Ponta’s with us.”

“Sasago, Urihime,” Natori-san calls. “Keep an eye on things and let me know if there’s any trouble.”

One of the shiki shadows leaves the bedroom and stands guard by the front door.

Natori-san and Dad head out. Ponta hops up onto the couch and stretches, settles down.

Kaname’s glad that he had a chance to meet the shikis face to face while Asagi was with him. He can at least imagine Urihime and Sasago fully, though he’s not sure which shadow is which.

He asks Takashi, and learns Urihime is guarding the door, and Sasago is watching over the yokai.

Kaname and Takashi join Ponta on the couch. Takashi still looks tired, and Kaname starts to doze off again, thinking they’ll both sleep until Dad and Natori-san get back. But then Takashi stands and walks back to the bedroom. Kaname follows him.

Takashi stands in the doorway and stares at the shadow on the bed.

“Does she have a name?” Kaname asks. “The yokai?”

“No,” Takashi says.

“Should we give her one?”

“No,” Takashi says. “I don’t think she’s staying.”

“Oh,” Kaname says. It makes sense that she’d want to leave, after being trapped in that awful curse. But it’s sad, like Asagi and Akagane leaving.

He wanted to get to know this yokai. He wants to get to know all the yokai. All the ones he glimpsed and Asagi painted. All the ones he’ll only ever know as shadows. But they’re just out of reach.

Takashi sits on the floor, against the wall. Kaname sits with him. The shadow of Sasago stands at the opposite wall.

“Is she still asleep?” Kaname asks, about the rescued yokai.

Takashi nods.

She must be tired from the spell, too. “What’s she look like?”

Takashi describes her. She looks like a woman with straight blond hair, and she’s wearing a grey yukata and a dark robe. Her face is covered by a mask decorated with one large eye, a smile, and a pair of horns.

Kaname isn’t a great artist, but while Asagi was with him he drew every yokai he could. He gets up and finds a pad and pencil by the phone, and brings it back with him. Then he tries to draw what Takashi described.

“How’s that?” Kaname asks.

“The mask is more like—“ Takashi takes the pencil and draws. Kaname had drawn something like an Oni mask, but the mask Takashi crudely sketches is rather friendly. Takashi points out a few other corrections and Kaname tries again.

“That’s what she looks like,” Takashi says, approving.

“Wow,” Kaname says. He holds up the pad and tries to picture the sketch where the shadow is, imagine her the way he can the shiki.

And for some reason, as he does so, he realizes that the mask looks familiar. He feels like he’s seen it somewhere before. A lot of other yokai wear masks, is this similar to one of the ones he saw in the forest? Or when they were driving around and hunting for carp and tree stumps? It couldn’t be this same yokai, obviously, but—

No, it doesn’t feel like he saw it so recently. He saw it a long time ago, and more than once. But where? His headache had been fading but this confusion is making it worse again.

“After the spell, I had this weird dream,” Kaname says. “Is it normal to get them from spells?”

“A weird dream?” Takashi asks, confused.

“Yeah,” Kaname says. “It was really long and complicated. And it felt so real. Like I was actually living out this whole other life. I was a mountain guardian spirit who got tangled up with humans in all sorts of ways. Usually my dreams fade pretty quickly, but this one— I can’t seem to shake it.”

He realizes Takashi is staring at him in what looks like dawning horror.

“What?” Kaname asks, confused.

“I warned you, you idiot,” Ponta says. He’s sitting in the doorway. “But you had to go and get yourself possessed.”

“What does Asagi have to do with this?” Kaname asks, even more confused.

“You opened yourself up,” Ponta says. “Not just to her, but to any yokai.”

“You said I could get possessed again,” Kaname remembers. He didn’t see that as a downside, and still doesn’t. If he can protect Takashi— And see the spirit world in full again—

“You’re open to any spiritual energy that comes your way,” Ponta corrects. “That wasn’t a dream. It was her memories.”

“Memories?” Kaname echoes, absolutely baffled now. “Whose memories?”

“Hers,” Ponta says, and points at the bed.

At the shadow.

The dream felt like Asagi’s memories did. Because they’re someone else’s memories?

“But she didn’t possess me,” Kaname protests.

Ponta gives a long suffering sigh. “You tell him,” he tells Takashi.

Kaname looks to Takashi.

Takashi’s been possessed, just like he was. So does that mean—

“You saw it too?” Kaname asks, astonished.

Takashi doesn’t answer. But the expression on his face says it all.

It wasn’t a dream. It was real. And if it was real then—

“That boy—“ Kaname starts. The young boy who visited her at the treasury. Natori-san said— He said he met her when he was a boy. That’s how they knew each other. “That was actually Natori-san?!”

Takashi nods.

Kaname leans back, utterly stunned.

He remembers where he saw the mask now. In reflections on the water of still mountain lakes. On the hazy surfaces of polished metal mirrors. He saw it through her eyes when she looked at herself.

He saw her life. Not every second of it, but it’s still so much. This hazy shadow— He genuinely knows her as well as he knows himself.

“But why—“ Kaname asks. “Why would she send out her memories?”

“Yokai are made of spiritual energy,” Ponta tells him, impatiently. “During the spell, you received some of her energy.”

“Does that means— Every time I do a spell on a yokai, I’ll get their memories?” Kaname asks.

“Probably,” Ponta says.

“Sensei,” Takashi pleads, rather desperately. “Can we stop it? Can we fix him?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ponta scoffs. “Of course not. This is why I told both of you to stop messing around with the spirit world. But did you listen to me? No!”

“Is this dangerous for the yokai?” Kaname asks. “Did she lose her memories? Did Natori-san see her memories too?”

“She didn’t lose anything,” Ponta says. “As for that brat, you’ll have to ask him yourself. But exorcists keep their hearts closed to yokai.” He grumbles. “Whatever they’re getting us to eat, I want a lot of it. I should be napping right now. In fact—”

He gets up and walks away, presumably back to the sofa.

“Exorcists keep their hearts closed?” Kaname echoes. He wonders what that means. But when he turns to Takashi—

Takashi looks devastated. There are tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Takashi says, voice tight. “This is my fault—“

“No,” Kaname says, firmly. “I chose to let Asagi possess me. Ponta warned me and I did it anyway. And I’d do it again. I don’t regret any of this.”

He’s still grappling with what all this means, and with the memories themselves. But he doesn’t regret it, he truly doesn’t.

But his words don’t calm Takashi. Takashi was possessed first, between the two of them. He’s not surprised about receiving yokai memories. Ponta knew, of course, but— Takashi’s basically been dealing with this alone. Maybe he was afraid to tell them. What other yokai did he get memories from? What has he experienced? Some of the things in this yokai’s memories were awful. She’s lived a long and complicated life. She hurt and killed innocent people because the curse forced her to. She’s suffered.

Takashi had to go through all of that, too. And he knew it was real.

“Takashi,” Kaname says, gently, worried. He so desperately wants to help him. But he doesn’t know what to say. And there’s only one thing he can think to do.

He reaches out, slowly because he knows how jumpy Takashi can be. But Takashi doesn’t pull away. He holds still as Kaname leans forward, as Kaname brings his arms around him.

Kaname holds him. Takashi’s thin frame trembles against him— And holds him back.

Kaname barely dares to breathe. This moment is so unexpected, so precious—

Takashi’s trembling eases, stops. For a wonderful moment, there’s no fear in their hug, only comfort, only—

And then Takashi pulls away, blushing red. And Kaname blushes red, too.

It was just a hug. Just comfort for a friend. But it feels enormous.

Kaname is suddenly very aware that they’re not alone. That Sasago is standing across the room, and Urihime is at the door and probably heard everything across the quiet apartment.

“Do you want to talk to Natori-san about it?” Kaname asks, then blushes again. “The memories, I mean.” Not the hug, absolutely not.

If they’re going to be his apprentices from now on, it feels like they should tell him about the memories. That seems important, with all the spells an exorcist has to do.

“No,” Takashi says, firmly. Then he softens. “Maybe. Can we wait?”

“Of course,” Kaname says. Then he turns to the shadow of Sasago. “Please don’t tell Natori-san. We want to tell him ourselves. Please?”

He can’t hear her response. But Takashi thanks her, softly.

Chapter Text

As they leave Natori-san’s apartment, Kousuke takes one last look at Kaname and Takashi. They look much better now, but still tired. To his relief, despite the fact that they both passed out, there’s been no sign of fever or migraine. If there had been—

The goal of all this is to help them be safer. Kousuke knows very well that the spirit world is unavoidable, that dangerous yokai will be drawn to both boys no matter what. But if protecting themselves with spells has a greater cost—

The elevator takes them down. They reach the ground floor, and walk out into the sunshine.

“Should I be concerned about them?” he asks. “That exorcism took quite a toll.”

“They’ll be all right,” Natori-san assures him. “You said you have no sensitivity to the spirit world?”

“None at all,” Kousuke admits.

“It was a powerful curse,” Natori-san says. “It took a lot of energy to break it, especially without harming the yokai bound up in it. And a first spell can overwhelm the caster. There are techniques all exorcists must learn to protect ourselves. I’ll teach them the basics when we get back.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Kousuke says. ‘Protective techniques’ sounds promising, very promising. Relieved, his turns to one of his other questions. “The yokai we rescued— You were friends, when you were a child?”

“Hardly,” Natori-san scoffs, with a somewhat forced laugh. “I only met her once.”

Only once? “Then she left an impression on you?”

“I forgot about her completely until today,” Natori-san says.

His breezy tone is as forced as his laugh. Is it difficult for him to admit he cares about a yokai? Even though it’s obvious that he cares about this one?

If Takashi and Kaname are going to be Natori-san’s apprentices, Kousuke needs to figure out what kind of person he is. He’s obviously professionally successful, in both his careers. But beyond that? Kousuke already has some concerns.

“How clearly can you see her?” Kousuke asks. “For Takashi, yokai are as real as we are.”

“Not quite that well,” Natori-san admits. “The more powerful a yokai is, the easier they are to see. This one— I can see her fully, touch her. But I’d never mistake her for a human.”

“I see,” Kousuke says. Perhaps that explains much of Natori-san’s attitude. If he knows what he’s seeing isn’t ‘real’, it must be easier to dismiss it. To separate himself from it. And if other exorcists have similar Sight, or weaker— “Do you know of anyone who can see as well as Takashi?”

“Perhaps,” Natori-san says. “His Sight needs to be tested. But if it’s as strong as you say, then I can’t think of many.”

They reach a street full of restaurants. They select one and place the order. There’s a bench outside, so they go there to wait while the food is prepared.

“You were wondering if I could be of help with exorcisms,” Kousuke-san says, switching topics. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, that,” Natori-san says. “Just what any priest does. It never hurts to do a cleansing after an exorcism. Even if you don’t have the strength to do much, it’s reassuring to the clients.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Kousuke says. “I didn’t know about this myself until recently. But it seems that my blessings— Have quite a strong effect.”

Natori-san turns to look at him, curious. “How do you mean?”

“I can’t see or feel it myself,” Kousuke explains. “But Takashi told me. That’s how we met, actually. I was blessing the grounds around the temple, to protect my son. Just a standard blessing, the kind I’ve done countless times. But the strength of it— It was so powerful that the yokai who live there asked Takashi to tell me to stop.”

Kousuke has to be careful about how much he shares with Natori-san. He doesn’t want to cause trouble for Takashi or the yokai of Yatsuhara. But he’s been desperate for answers, and Natori-san is the first person who might actually be able to help him.

“Was it just the once, that it was so powerful?” Natori-san asks.

“Apparently not,” Kousuke admits. “Takashi was being chased one day, and he told me to bless the forest around him. He reacted as if I’d thrown a bomb at him. And then he passed out!”

Natori-san’s expression grows more serious.

“As a priest, blessings are part of my duties,” Kousuke continues. “But to protect my son, I fear— I’ve unknowingly wreaked havoc across Japan.”

“It’s not unheard of for the truly devout to develop powers like this,” Natori-san says. “Even if they don’t have anything innate. Some exorcists go through religious training just for that purpose. But I can’t say I’ve ever heard of one becoming as strong as you’re describing. Was your training unusual?”

“I didn’t think it was,” Kousuke says. “Natori-san— I need your help. I’m greatly concerned about the harm I’ve done. I know you have little affection for yokai, but I can’t see or hear the beings I’ve hurt. And I don’t want to burden Takashi with this. If I provide you with a history, of where I’ve lived and when— Is there any way you could check? See if there’s evidence or records of anything unusual? I don’t know what I can do to make up for what I’ve done, but I need to try.“

“I can check,” Natori-san agrees.

“Thank you,” Kousuke says, deeply grateful. “And even if you can’t find anything— This power I have— Do you have any idea how I can control it? As things are— I’m afraid to bless anything. But that leaves me unable to properly fulfill my duties.”

Natori-san considers the situation. “I don’t have much experience with this kind of power myself. But I’ll ask around. If I find anything I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” Kousuke says again.

“But Tanuma-san— You have nothing to feel guilty about,” Natori-san says. “If you have this power, it’s because you were blessed with it. You’ve been using it in your duties, and to protect your son. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Kousuke isn’t so convinced, but he doesn’t want to argue. “Perhaps. But I’ve been wondering— Do you think there’s a chance that— This power I’ve been blessed with— Could it be why Kaname is sensitive to the spirit world?”

Kaname has suffered so much. It’s bad enough that Kousuke unwittingly caused so much of that suffering, by angering the local yokai with his blessings. If that sensitivity is his fault, too—

“I don’t know,” Natori-san admits. “Is there any history of sensitivity in your family? Or his mother’s? Any stories about unusual behavior?”

Kousuke shakes his head. “None that I know of. My family isn’t even very religious.” He doesn’t remember what first inspired him to become a monk. But from a very young age, he knew it was his path.

“Sensitivity can just happen,” Natori-san offers. “And it can skip generations. And families often avoid talking about uncomfortable matters, in the hope of erasing them.”

He says the last with an edge of disdain, as if that’s something he’s personally experienced.

“You said— You’re the only one in your family that’s still active, as an exorcist?” Kousuke recalls.

“I’m the first with Sight in a while,” Natori-san admits. “My family wasn’t happy about it. Tanuma-kun is lucky to have you as a father, protecting him.”

It sounds like Natori-san’s childhood was difficult. Hopefully not as difficult as Takashi’s. Kousuke has to admit, seeing their situations— It does make him feel slightly better about his flawed efforts to protect Kaname.

And this glimpse into Natori-san’s past— A difficult family, a lack of support— That might explain his empty apartment, and his emotional distance.

But as a child, no matter how wounded, Natori-san was able to care for a yokai he didn’t know. And she must have cared for him back, for him to remember her so fondly. To care for her now, despite himself, and go through the trouble of saving her.

All that helps ease Kousuke’s worries about Natori-san. He seems to have a good heart beneath the calluses that formed to protect it. And Takashi and Kaname are both so determined to care for spirits and each other that they’ll probably be a good influence on him.

When their order is ready, they pick it up and start the walk back.

“As my apprentice, Tanuma-kun will need a cover story,” Natori-san says. “Does he have any interest in acting?”

“Not that I know of,” Kousuke says. “He’s started playing his guitar again, does that help?”

“Is he any good?”

Kousuke hesitates, trying to find a diplomatic way of saying no. Kaname hasn’t practiced in some time, and he’s very rusty.

“Guitars don’t come up much in filming anyway,” Natori-san says, amused. “Perhaps Natsume-kun’s cover story will work for both of them. They’re close friends?”

“Very,” Kousuke says, glad he can say it. He declines to mention Kaname’s additional feelings.

“Then it would make sense for Tanuma-kun to come with him to auditions, rehearsals, and film shoots, given their age,” Natori-san decides. “Best to keep these things simple.”

Kousuke gives a hum of agreement.

They get back to the apartment, and the sofa is empty aside from a snoring Nyanko-sensei — Though as soon as the cat smells the food, he’s wide awake.

“They’re in the bedroom,” Natori-san says, before Kousuke can ask. One of his shiki must have told him.

Kousuke puts their takeout on the counter, and checks the bedroom.

Inside, Kaname and Takashi are sitting together on the floor. They’re both asleep, leaning against each other. They must have come in here to sit with the rescued yokai and dozed off.

Such a precious sight— Kousuke wishes he had a camera on hand to capture it. Kaname would be terribly embarrassed, of course. But then he’d want a copy of the photo for himself. And maybe Takashi would, too.

All Kousuke can do is hold the moment in his heart.

“Brat!” Nyanko-sensei says, loudly. “Half of this better be for me!”

Takashi startles and is immediately wide awake. He sits bolt upright, but then goes utterly still as he orients himself. Then he sees Kaname beside him, and apparently realizes he was sleeping against him. He slumps from his tense posture and blushes. All in seconds.

“This food is for humans, not shiki,” Natori-san says, annoyed.

“I told you, brat! I’m his master!”

“Sensei!” Takashi calls, and hurries to intervene, rushing past Kousuke with barely a glance.

Kaname wakes, then, and seems confused by Takashi’s absence. He looks around, and his glance lingers on the bed before landing on Kousuke. And then there’s a flicker of fear.

“Is everything all right?” Kousuke asks, concerned.

Kaname’s hesitation tells him everything he needs to know.

“Later?” Kousuke offers, quietly.

Kaname nods, relieved.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat before Nyanko-sensei takes it all,” Kousuke tells him.

Chapter Text

The sound of Nyanko-sensei yelling jolts Takashi awake. Adrenaline rushes through him as he tries to figure out what’s happening. Are they in danger? Are they being attacked?

The mountain guardian is still lying asleep on the bed in front of him. Her memories rush back to him, fragments of centuries still fresh and strong. And then his own memories rush back.

Kaname saw her memories too.

Kaname hugged him.

Takashi can still feel the shocking sensation of Kaname’s body against his, Kaname’s arms holding him. The shock of daring to hold him back. He blushes all over again, overcome.

He becomes aware of the fading warmth against his side. Of Kaname sleeping beside him. And he blushes even harder.

“This food is for humans, not shiki,” Natori-san says, his annoyance cutting through Takashi’s overwhelm.

“I told you, brat!” Nyanko-sensei yells. “I’m his master!”

“Sensei!” Takashi calls. He hurries to intervene, dreading what trouble the cat is causing. As he rushes out of the room, he sees Kousuke-san standing just outside the open door.

He must have seen—

And what will he say when he finds out that Kaname—

Takashi is grateful for the emergency, so he doesn’t have to face Kousuke-san just yet.

He reaches the kitchen and finds Nyanko-sensei is trying to claim an entire bag of takeout. “Sensei, no!” Takashi chides, and wrests it away from him. “You can’t take everyone’s food!” He turns and hands the bag to Natori-san with an apologetic bow. “I’m so sorry, Natori-san. I’ll give him some of mine. Please let me repay you for the meal.”

“Don’t be silly,” Natori-san says, waving away the offer as he accepts the bag. There’s no dinner table, so he starts unloading the bag on the sofa coffee table. The smell of warm, delicious food makes Takashi’s stomach wake up and growl.

It also makes Nyanko-sensei lunge for the nearest container. Takashi grabs him and holds him close, despite how the cat loudly whines and wriggles. His bodyguard can be such a child.

Takashi looks over at Natori-san again. And the way he focuses on his task as he sets out the food and utensils and napkins—

It reminds him of how Natori-chan wrapped the mountain guardian’s wounds. And the memory of that moment is so fresh, so strong, it feels like they were Takashi’s own wounds that Natori-chan tended to.

And now, he feels her fondness towards him. That little boy who cared for a spirit, who reached out to her when she needed it most. He remembers Natori-chan’s grateful relief when she told him he wasn’t a curse. And Takashi can’t help but feel his own empathy towards that lonely child. Even a pang of jealousy.

How could Natori-san forget about her? How could he leave her behind, for all this time?

She treasured her one memory of him for so long. Like the swallow yokai with Taniozaki-san. Like Shigure-sama with Sasada. But where the swallow yokai was driven to search for Taniozaki-san, and Shigure-sama was driven to avoid Sasada, the mountain guardian never imagined she’d see Natori-chan again.

And when she wakes up? How will she feel about him now? Even though Natori-san freed her, he’s an exorcist, and exorcists trapped her and cursed her. Surely after being a prisoner for so long, she’ll want to go home to her mountain god. She’ll want to leave the human world behind, like so many of the yokai Takashi has met.

And then Kaname and Kousuke-san walk over.

Immediately, Takashi’s stomach knots so badly that he shouldn’t be able to eat at all. He almost gives Nyanko-sensei his entire meal. But he’s so hungry from the spell that he hesitates.

“Thank you for your help today, Nyanko-sensei,” Kousuke-san says, giving the cat a respectful bow before taking a seat on the sofa. He takes some of his own food and puts it on a plate.

“Yes, thank you, Ponta,” Kaname says, and adds some of his own to the plate.

Automatically, Takashi does the same.

“Natori-san?” Kousuke-san prompts.

Natori-san reluctantly adds a small amount of food to Nyanko-sensei’s plate, apparently just to be polite. Nyanko-sensei stares at Natori-san, silently demanding more, but Natori-san only stares right back at him.

Kousuke-san says his thanks for the meal, and then so does everyone else.

Takashi discreetly watches Kaname as they eat, checking to see if he’s been affected by the mountain guardian’s memories. Takashi remembers how frightening it was the first time he received memories after giving back a Name. But Kaname seems okay.

They were lucky this time. The mountain guardian is human-shaped, with the usual number of eyes behind her mask. She’s spent so much of her life among humans. And even though she was trapped for so long, she didn’t drown in despair.

But the next time? What will it do to Kaname to be forced to experience the memories of beings that can be so utterly different, in their bodies, in their lives? To know their suffering from the inside? How will he ever be able to live a normal life?

Takashi has the responsibility of returning the Names in the Book, of repairing Reiko’s harm. And because of that, he’s now open to any yokai energy, to their memories, to who knows what else. But what does that matter when the spirit world has always been inescapable?

It was always too late for him. But surely it’s not too late for Kaname.

Takashi is wary about talking to Natori-san about any of this. He absolutely can’t let the exorcist find out about the Book. But if Natori-san can find a way to help Kaname— Surely there’s a way—

They’re just finishing their meal when there’s a noise from the bedroom. And then the mountain guardian walks out.

“You’re awake,” Natori-san says. There’s a flash of open care on his face, but then it’s gone, replaced by a serious expression. “The curse should be gone now.”

“It is, thank you,” the mountain guardian says. Her familiar voice is calm, almost unemotional.

Is she in shock? Is she okay? Takashi can’t feel how she feels now. And her mask hides her expression.

In her memories, she was always connected to her mountain god, no matter how far she traveled. The eternal steadiness of it sustained her, solid as granite and warmed by the endless sun. Even when the curse was tight around her neck, she felt it. She must want to go back to its source, to rest and recover. Like so many other yokai, she must want to go back to the mountains.

“You saved me,” she says. Then she bows her head. “In return, I ask that you allow me to serve you.”

Natori-san’s expression immediately eases. “I accept,” he says, without hesitation. He seems pleased as he turns to Takashi and Kaname. “This yokai has agreed to become my shiki. This is another learning opportunity for both of you. If you’re going to be exorcists, you’ll each need at least one shiki. A proper one,” he adds, clearly intending to insult Nyanko-sensei.

Nyanko-sensei is unmoved.

Takashi feels faintly in shock himself now. She wants to be a shiki? After all that, after years and years of being trapped and forced to do terrible things, she wants to serve an exorcist?

“What exactly does it mean, to make her a shiki?” Kaname asks, concerned.

“I’m glad you asked,” Natori-san says. “Most exorcists are like you, Tanuma-kun. They’re sensitive to spirits, but their perceptions are limited. A lot can be done with rituals alone, but shiki are essential. For most, it’s the only way they can truly observe and interact with the spirit world.”

Natori-san stands and walks over to the other bedroom. When he turns on the light, Takashi can just see inside. There’s paper and wood with what must be spells written on them, and an assortment of what must be sealing jars. Again, Takashi thinks of the small sealing jar Natori-san gave him.

Natori-san returns with two wooden tags with writing on them, a third that’s blank, and a brush and ink. “If a yokai is willing, you can make a contract with it. These are Urihime and Sasago’s contracts.” He hands them the tags with writing on them.

When Takashi holds them, he can feel the power bound to them. It feels like—

“The terms of a contract can vary, but there are rules,” Natori-san continues. “It’s forbidden to use the yokai’s true name in the contract, because doing that would enslave them. Your every word would be their command, and destroying their contract would destroy them.”

—The Book of Friends.

Reiko took the true names of yokai and made contracts with them. Enslaved them to her command, even though she never gave any.

To hear it so plainly— Takashi internally shudders.

“—have to use an alias,” Natori-san continues, as Takashi focuses on him again. “A name of your choosing, usually. I chose the names Urihime and Sasago, and I’ll need one for my new shiki as well.” He pauses, considering. “What do you think of Hiiragi?” he asks the mountain guardian.

The mountain guardian considers it. “It’s agreeable,” she decides.

“Excellent,” Natori-san says, pleased.

“Wait,” Takashi says, worried. He turns to the mountain guardian. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”

She stares at him through her mask, and even though Takashi has so many of her memories—

“I would like to serve this man,” she says, plainly.

—he doesn’t understand her.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine,” Natori-san assures him. He takes back the wooden tags and sets them aside. “I know it’s difficult, but both of you need to learn to stay detached when dealing with spirits.”

Takashi glances over, and sees Kaname frown.

“It must sound cruel to you,” Natori-san says. “But it’s for your own good. Look at what happened with that spell today. It’s my fault for not preparing you properly. But Kiriganuma is going to be a lot more dangerous than what we dealt with today.”

“What do they need to do?” Kousuke-san asks.

“Yokai are made of spiritual and emotional energy,” Natori-san explains. “If you get close to that energy, it can affect you.”

Takashi and Kaname glance at each other, both vividly aware of that.

“Detachment is about protecting yourself, just as an alias protects a shiki,
 Natori-san continues. “During spells it keeps you from giving up so much of your own spiritual energy that, for example, you pass out.”

“So if I’m an exorcist, I’m not allowed to care?” Kaname asks, upset.

“Of course you can be kind to them,” Natori-san allows. “It’s not about being cruel. You simply can’t let them into your heart.”

That doesn’t sound simple at all to Takashi.

And until recently, he spent his whole life running away from yokai, trying desperately to stay detached from them. None of that protected him at all.

“It must be easier to stay detached from yokai if you can’t see them clearly,” Kousuke-san says, gently intervening. “Are they truly that dangerous?”

“Some yokai are harmless,” Natori-san admits. “But it’s not the harmless ones that people hire us to deal with.”

“I see,” Kousuke-san says. “Both boys seem to be quite sensitive to hostile yokai. Perhaps that gives them an advantage that other exorcists lack. So they would only need to use that detachment when they feel it’s necessary.”

Kousuke-san gives Natori-san a hopeful look.

“Well, I—“ Natori-san says, surprised. This is obviously something he hadn’t considered, and the idea seems to shake him. “It’s not how things are done. And it might still be dangerous. But I suppose— You could.”

Takashi looks to Kaname. Kaname looks back.

“We could,” Kaname accepts.

Takashi nods. He’s still skeptical. But if it will actually protect them from dangerous yokai, and more importantly if it will actually protect Kaname, then he’s willing to give it a try.

“Good,” Natori-san says, relieved. He pics up the blank wooden tag. “Then it’s time to get my third shiki. Quite an accomplishment really, there was a time I didn’t expect to have even one! Much less two apprentices.” He winks at them. “Now both of you watch closely. Especially you, Tanuma-kun. The less an exorcist can sense, the more they must rely on their shiki.”

“Third?” Takashi says, confused. “But what about—“

Natori-san cocks his head, confused back. “What about what?”

“I thought your lizard—“ Takashi says. When he saw Natori-san’s movies, he thought the lizard yokai on his body was protecting him, like Nyanko-sensei or Kousuke-san.

Natori-san gives a surprised laugh. “You think this is a shiki?” he asks, and points to the shadowy lizard currently wrapped around his wrist.

“Lizard?” Kaname echoes. And then a realization seems to hit him, and then another.

They both saw the lizard in the mountain guardian’s memories. The yokai was on Natori-chan even back then. But they can hardly admit that.

“When we met, there was a lizard tattoo on your wrist,” Kaname says. “It’s gone? It’s a yokai?”

“It moves all over my body,” Natori-san says, turning forcefully cheerful. “When I was little, this strange lizard-shaped mark showed up on my ankle. The next day I thought it was gone, but then I found it on my left arm. It was pretty creepy, so I looked into it and found out it’s a yokai. I learned a lot while I searched for a way to get rid of it.”

“Is it dangerous?” Kousuke-san asks, concerned.

“Not that I can tell,” Natori-san says. “But imagine if it turns out it’s draining my life expectancy!”

He laughs as if the idea doesn’t bother him at all. But Takashi thinks of little Natori-chan, alone in his own family, forced to deal with such uncertainty. It must have been awful. Takashi can’t help but feel another pang of empathy towards that lonely child.

“It doesn’t feel bad to me,” Kaname offers.

It doesn’t. And it didn’t feel hostile in the mountain guardian’s memories either.

Surprise cuts through Natori-san’s false cheer. His expression softens. But instead of replying, he picks up the ink and brush, and walks over to the mountain guardian.

She takes the brush and signs the tag. The blank tag must have already been prepared with a spell, like the small sealing jar was, and there’s a burst of energy as it completes.

The mountain guardian is Hiiragi now. And even with an alias for protection, she is bound as a servant to Natori-san.

Takashi hopes this is truly what she wants.

“That’s taken care of,” Natori-san says, lightly brushing off the whole matter. He turns back to them. “Now, we need to talk about Kiriganuma.”

Chapter Text

“I sent my shiki to Kiriganuma to take a look around,” Natori-san says. “And I also researched the history of the area. It turns out you’re not the first to run into trouble there. But let me start from the beginning.”

He clears his voice, and takes on an actorly pose.

“Many years ago, a mine was opened, one of several in the area. The town of Kiriganuma was founded. For a while the area thrived, and Kiriganuma station was opened to transport coal to the coast. But mining is dangerous work. A tragic accident killed and injured many miners.”

He pauses respectfully, then continues with an ominous tone. “After that, despite safety efforts, there were more accidents. The mine was forced to close, and everyone moved away. When the government tried to clean up the pollution from the mine, accidents plagued the crew. And so the government hired exorcists.”

He pauses, apparently for dramatic effect.

“It’s not unusual for mines to disturb the earth spirits,” Natori-san continues. “And when that happens, if the mine isn’t important enough, sometimes the officials give up. They abandon the affected area and wait for the spirits to calm. So the rail line was closed, and the mining town of Kiriganuma was forgotten. But just because the head of some clan all those years ago decided an exorcism wasn’t worth doing, that doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”

He says the last with determination.

“That said,” he continues, easing. “My shiki did sense hostility. I’d understand if you want to drop your request, Tanuma-san. We could wait and deal with the earth spirits later, once my apprentices have more experience, or leave Kiriganuma alone completely. It’s up to you.”

As Hiiragi, Takashi remembers being a mountain guardian, sustained by the strength of the mountain god. But in the memories of the earth spirits, Takashi was the mountain. The rock, deep and ancient, bearing the life of everything within it and above it. He was the spirits of the earth itself.

But instead of being worshipped and protected, he was violated. Carved open and poisoned, and then abandoned to grief and anger. An endless fever like a curse around his neck, burning him alive for years and years and—

“We have to help them,” Takashi says, too loudly, suddenly trembling. “Please, we can’t just—“

He cuts himself off as he realizes they’re all staring at him. He looks away, then glances back.

Kousuke-san is frowning. “Natori-san. How long would it take for the earth spirits to recover on their own?”

“I don’t know,” Natori-san admits. “The truth is we don’t know exactly what the problem is.”

“It’s not simply the presence of the mine?” Kousuke-san asks.

“It could be,” Natori-san says. “But there are standard protections for that. Otherwise no one would be able to mine anything. I’m sure there’s something unusual about this.”

Natori-san turns to Takashi and Kaname. “When the earth spirits attacked you, did they say anything? Did you see anything that might tell us what’s wrong?”

“I only felt them,” Kaname says.

Everyone turns to Takashi again.

Only Santo was in the Book of Friends, not Mikuri, not the earth spirits. If he tells them about the earth spirit memories— Maybe it would help them come up with a plan. But all he really knows is the earth spirits’ pain.

“No, sorry,” Takashi lies.

From their expressions, he can tell that no one believes him.

“All right,” Natori-san says, accepting. “Then I suggest we go there tomorrow, but only to investigate. If things get dangerous, the priority will be for all of us to get out safely. But we have four shiki— Well, three shiki and your ‘master’— And Tanuma-san, are you willing to using your blessing to protect us?”

“Of course,” Kousuke-san says.

“Then we should be fine,” Natori-san says, pleased. “Ah, that reminds me. Tanuma-kun, I have a gift for you. Something that should help you tomorrow. Hold on, let me just—“ He goes back to the second bedroom, then returns. “It must be difficult, to have clear Sight and then lose it. Try these on,” he says, and hands Kaname a pair of glasses that match his own. “Don’t worry, they’re not prescription.”

Kaname puts on the glasses. He looks around, not sure what he’s supposed to be seeing. And then when he lands on Hiiragi, he stops.

“A lot of exorcists with poor Sight use these,” Natori-san tells him. “It’s easier to see yokai through glass or in reflections. How much is it helping?”

Kaname is staring at Hiiragi intently. “She’s still a shadow. But she’s not as hazy. And I think— Hiiragi, can you turn around?”

Hiiragi slowly turns. Kaname switches between looking with and without the glasses.

“She looks more solid,” Kaname decides. “It’s like when I see yokai out of the corner of my eye.”

“Try doing both,” Natori-san suggests.

Kaname turns his head and looks at Hiiragi out of the corner of his eye through the glasses. “Oh! I can see the shape of your mask! I see the horns!”

“That’s good,” Natori-san praises. “Very good. It might not seem like much, but every little bit helps. Once you have a shiki, the strength of the bond between you will also help. But only in seeing your shiki.” He looks at Hiiragi and smiles at her. Presumably because he can see her more clearly now.

“Thank you, Natori-san,” Kaname says, grateful. He hands the glasses to Takashi. “Want to try?”

Takashi puts them on. Everything looks exactly the same no matter how he looks through them. He hands them back. “I guess I don’t need them.”

Natori-san gives him an interested look. “We have to get your Sight tested soon. Maybe at the next exorcist meeting.”

Kaname hands the glasses to Kousuke-san. His Sight is also unchanged, to his visible disappointment.

“Lenses, reflections, and mirrors,” Natori-san tells Kaname. “They’re the exorcist’s friends, so take advantage of them.”

“Lenses, reflections, and mirrors,” Kaname murmurs to himself.

“Those can also be used in spells,” Natori-san continues. “My family’s speciality is paper magic, so your training will start with that. But the great onmoyojis of history developed many different techniques. And of course there’s sealing. Natsume-kun, would you care to show Tanuma-kun your jar?”

Takashi goes still.

Natori-san chuckles. “It’s all right, I know you didn’t use it.” He holds out his hand, expectant.

Takashi hesitates. Not just because he failed Natori-san, and he’s relieved about it, and mad he was asked to do such a cruel thing in the first place. But because the sealing jar is in his waist pack with the Book and everyone is looking at him.

But Natori-san is waiting.

Takashi reaches back and opens the pack just enough to pull out the jar, then zips the pack closed again and pulls his shirt back down over it. He puts the unused sealing jar in Natori-san’s hand, and can’t help but meet his eyes, defiant.

“I’m sorry,” Takashi lies.

“Have you seen a sealing jar before, Tanuma-kun?” Natori-san asks. He hands it to Kaname, who turns it in his hand, curious. “It’s one of the most important exorcism tools. With the right spell, it can hold a yokai indefinitely.”

“Hold them?” Kaname asks, wary.

“The earth spirits almost killed both of you,” Natori-san says, serious. “I know you care about yokai. You want to help them. That’s admirable, in its way. But your father hired me to protect you. And as my apprentices, as a team going into a dangerous situation, we need to be able to protect ourselves and each other.”

Kaname’s wariness fades into understanding. “How does it work?”

“All you have to do is take out the cork,” Natori-san says. “Small ones like these, already prepared with spells, are useful if you’re caught by surprise. But most of the time, it’s better to use a larger jar with a spell circle, especially if the yokai is powerful. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Kaname says.

“Good,” Natori-san says. “Keep it.” He stands back up. “We’ve covered a lot today. You should go home and rest up for tomorrow.”

Kaname looks to Takashi, and he obviously has questions. But they clean up their meal and get ready to head home. Takashi scoops up Nyanko-sensei and carries him in his arms. Natori-san walks them out, but as Kaname and Kousuke-san head for their car, Natori-san put his hand on Takashi’s shoulder and holds him back.

“Just a moment, Natsume-kun,” Natori-san says.

Takashi looks at him warily.

“I’m not upset about the jar,” Natori-san says. “After what happened today with Hiiragi, I can hardly lecture you for being soft on yokai. No, this has to do with the Fujiwaras.”

Takashi goes still. He must have found out that the Fujiwaras aren’t his real parents.

“It was my mistake,” Natori-san continues. “And it would have been embarrassing to correct me. I’m not upset about that either.“

Natori-san glances past Takashi to the Tanumas. They must be at the car by now, waiting, watching.

“I found out about your past,” Natori-san says, directly. “I understand why it would be hard for you to talk about it. But you don’t need to pretend with me. I understand.”

Natori-san gives him an expectant look.

“Of course,” Takashi says. And of course he does. If anyone would understand, surely it’s Natori-san.

“So please tell me,” Natori-san says. “Is there anything else I need to know? Anything at all?”

There’s so much.

They didn’t even tell him about Hiiragi’s memories yet. He should tell Natori-san right now, before he learns it from Urihime and Sasago.

But he only shakes his head no.

Natori-san sighs. Then he reaches into his pocket and takes out a small sealing jar, just like the one he handed over to Kaname. He gives this one to Takashi. “Tomorrow will be dangerous. Keep this with you and be ready to use it.”

Takashi accepts the jar.

Natori-san dismisses him. Takashi thanks him and walks to the car. He gets into the back seat, and Nyanko-sensei hops out of his arms to sit up front in the passenger seat.

It feels like Nyanko-sensei is disappointed in him. Takashi is disappointed in himself, too.

Kousuke-san starts the car and they head out.

“What did Natori-san say?” Kaname asks.

“He gave me another jar,” Takashi says, and shows him.

“It’s so weird,” Kaname says, as he stares at the jar. “Even though I only just learned about these— I already knew about them.” And then he straightens up. “Did you ask Natori-san about—“

Takashi shakes his head no.

Kousuke-san glances back at them. “Is something wrong?”

Takashi and Kaname look at each other.

“Something happened,” Kaname admits. “While you were getting the food. Well, before that, kind of, but—“

Kaname looks to Takashi to explain. And Takashi should be the one to tell him. It’s his fault that Kaname is open to yokai energy now. If Kousuke-san is going to finally get angry with him, if Takashi’s life with the Fujiwaras is finally going to fall apart, Takashi should face his fate like he always has.

But as with Natori-san, he can’t get the words out.

“When we did that spell to rescue Hiiragi,” Kaname starts, then hesitates. “Maybe you should pull over first.”

Kousuke-san looks alarmed, and the car slows as he finds a place to park. As soon as the car is safely stopped, he turns around.

Takashi braces himself for the worst.

“When the spell knocked me out,” Kaname says. “I had this weird dream. I was a yokai, a mountain guardian, and all these things happened, and— Takashi saw it too. Because it wasn’t a dream. It was Hiiragi’s actual memories.”

“Her memories?” Kousuke-san asks, confused.

“Ponta said it’s because we’ve been possessed,” Kaname explains. “We’re open to yokai energy now. So when we did the spell, we saw Hiiragi’s memories. I can remember being her, living all these pieces of her life. It’s so real. It happened with Asagi, sort of, but we were sharing my body, so I didn’t think—“

And then to Takashi horror, Kaname starts to cry.

Takashi’s past flashes before his eyes. All the times he tried to tell someone about a yokai that scared him or hurt him— And their angry reactions, their tired frustration, yelling at him to stop lying, punishing him for being so much trouble, saying this was the last straw and they were getting rid of him—

Kousuke-san gets out of the car. He walks over and opens Kaname’s door. Takashi is caught between being frozen in place and wanting to run and needing desperately to throw himself between them to save Kaname from that inevitable, awful fate—

But when Kousuke reaches into the car, he doesn’t grab Kaname by the arm and drag him out and yell. He doesn’t hit him or—

He just—

Hugs him. Soothes him.

And Kaname holds him back so tightly.

Takashi has lived with many families. He’s seen parents comfort their children countless times, and usually it was Takashi’s fault that the children were upset. So even though Kousuke-san isn’t human, there’s nothing strange about this moment. But it feels incredibly strange.

And then it gets even stranger. Kousuke-san turns to Takashi. And instead of anger and rejection, Kousuke-san looks at him the same way he looked at Kaname.

A confusion of intense emotions flashes through Takashi all at once, leaving him flushed hot and vaguely nauseous. He’s relieved and oddly disappointed when Kousuke-san doesn’t try to hug him.

“Nyanko-sensei,” Kousuke-san starts, turning to the cat.

“Don’t ’Nyanko-sensei’ me,” Nyanko-sensei complains. “I tell you idiots to not be idiots all day long, and nobody listens to me. I need a drink.”

And then in a move that is both astonishing and entirely predictable, Nyanko-sensei launches himself out of the car window, poofs into his true form, and flies away.

“Where did he go?” Kousuke-san asks, looking around where he last saw Nyanko-sensei’s cat form.

“He flew away,” Kaname says, awed and annoyed as he wipes his eyes dry. His new glasses are smudged.

Kousuke-san sighs. “Does Natori-san know about this?”

Kaname shakes his head. “I know we need to tell him but— Takashi—“

Both of them turn to him.

The only sensible thing to do is go back. Tell Natori-san the truth and face the consequences. But what will happen to the earth spirits then? If no one helps them, and they’re left alone to suffer?

If he has to, Takashi will go back to Kiriganuma on his own, even without Nyanko-sensei. He has to try to help them, he has to do something.

If he has to get out and walk there— If he takes the train, and then that same bus—

But Kousuke-san unexpectedly eases. “Let’s get you both home.”

“But Natori-san—“ Kaname says, surprised.

“There’s a lot we need to talk about,” Kousuke-san says. “But it can wait until you’re ready. And so can Natori-san.”

“What about tomorrow?” Kaname asks.

“That’s up to both of you,” Kousuke-san says. “We’ll talk in the morning, after a good night’s sleep.”

And then just like that, they’re back on the road.

Takashi stares out the window and tries to understand what just happened. It must be because Kousuke-san is a noble being. No human parent could ever be so accepting of yokai trouble. Even Natori-chan wasn’t accepted by his own family, even though they know yokai are real, even though they used to be exorcists.

Kousuke-san drops him off at the Fujiwara’s. To his relief, the Fujiwaras are both out, and the house is quiet.

Takashi goes up to his room, unrolls his futon, and lies down, exhausted. Then he unclips his waist pack and opens it. He takes out the Book of Friends, flips through its pages.

There are so many Names that need to be returned. And every time he returns one, he’ll take in that yokai’s energy. He’ll live some fragment of their life, and carry their memories for the rest of his life.

And not just the yokai in the Book. Any yokai he does a spell on, any yokai he gets close to could make a connection with him.

Maybe Nyanko-sensei is wrong. Maybe Natori-san can find a cure. But when Takashi thinks about losing this—

He holds the Book close against his chest.

Chapter Text

When they get to Yatsuhara, the first thing Kaname does is look in the backyard. He cleans his new glasses and tries again, and even looks through them out of the corner of his eye.

He still can’t see the pond. There isn’t even the slightest shadow.

His head aches. Not a migraine, at least. Maybe because he received Hiiragi’s energy through a spell, and not directly. He takes off the glasses and puts them aside, then lies down on his bed and buries his face against his pillow. With his eyes closed, he doesn’t have to see anything.

He dozes but his sleep is restless, full of fragments from Hiiragi’s long life. Places and people he only knows through her eyes. When he wakes, he wants to reach out to her, the way he used to reach out to Asagi. But he’s alone in his body.

He wants to talk to Takashi about Hiiragi, about Kiriganuma and Natori-san and so much. But on the car ride back, after they talked to Dad, Takashi wouldn’t even look at him. He was withdrawn and obviously upset. Kaname wanted so much to hug him again, to close the awful distance that was suddenly between them. But he didn’t dare.

He finds his dad in the main hall, sweeping the floor in a meditative rhythm, making small piles of dust. Dad often cleans when he has things on his mind. Kaname grabs the brush and dustpan and gathers up the piles, disposes of them outside.

From the engawa, he looks out at the rest of the temple grounds. He hasn’t lived here for very long, but every temple feels like home to him. Like the mountain for Hiiragi, and Isozuki Forest for Asagi.

How strange, to want to go home to places he’s never lived.

Dad walks out and stands beside him. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” Kaname answers, honestly.

It’s not a bad thing, seeing her life, even though some of the memories were awful. It’s amazing to know her so well even though she’s still only a shadow. Like he’s spent his whole life by her side, except he wasn’t there.

But his head is so full of her. His own life feels so short and small, so limited. And it already felt limited before he got her memories, and Asagi’s.

Asagi’s memories faded once she left him. He hasn’t forgotten anything, but he doesn’t have to struggle to separate his own feelings from hers. Will the same happen with Hiiragi’s?

“I can’t feel the mountain anymore,” Kaname admits. “When I was her, I always felt it, always. And now it’s gone.” His eye dampen with grief that he shouldn’t feel. The mountain god is still there. The real Hiiragi must still feel it.

But the grief feels real. It feels like waking up after Asagi left. He opened his eyes and half the world was gone.

Does Takashi feel this grief too?

He wishes they could bear these memories together. Why does Takashi always have to pull away?

“What did the mountain feel like?” Dad asks.

Kaname struggles to describe something his human body can’t truly feel. “Everything,” he starts, with a sad laugh at the uselessness of words. “A huge feeling in my chest. Her chest. Even when she was cursed. She’s made from it, from the mountain god’s kami. But she’s just a tiny piece, and the mountain is—“ He gestures to express the enormity of the mountain’s kami.

As small as his own life feels compared to hers, her life felt tiny compared to the mountain.

“If you have Hiiragi’s memories because her energy went into you,” Dad says, considering, “Then even though you can’t feel it the same way, you must have the mountain’s kami inside you.”

Kaname presses a hand to his chest. He tries to feel the mountain the way Hiiragi can. But it’s like trying to see the pond.

“The mountain’s kami is in Takashi too,” Kaname realizes. “Do you think he can feel it?”

“A very good question,” Dad says. “Do you know— Was the swallow the first time he was possessed by a yokai?”

“I think so. Why?”

“If he has been receiving yokai memories for longer,” Dad says, “it might explain why he’s so driven to help them. Including the earth spirits, despite how dangerous they are.”

“The sparrow happened after Kiriganuma,” Kaname recalls. So if Takashi did receive memories from the earth spirits, something must have opened him up to yokai energy before that. Another possession? Something else?

Maybe something involving his mysterious book.

For now, they can only guess.

Kaname looks out at the horizon. He can’t see Hiiragi’s mountain from here, can’t feel it in his chest. But the mountain is there. The kami is inside him. He wouldn’t be able to remember it if it wasn’t.

Acknowledging that does ease his grief. Like Asagi’s paintings of the yokai world. Like the photos he’s kept of all the people he’s known and left behind as they’ve moved from place to place. Like his dad’s stories about his mom, even though Kaname barely remembers her.

“Do you think it’s okay to talk about her life?” Kaname asks. They’re Hiiragi’s memories, and she didn’t exactly have a choice about sharing them.

Dad considers the question. “We don’t have a way to ask her permission right now. Can her energy and memories be removed from you?”

“I don’t think so,” Kaname says. Ponta and Takashi both acted like this was permanent.

“If something’s a part of you, I think you have the right to talk about it,” Dad says. “Especially with your own father, who can be very discreet.”

Kaname gives a small laugh. “A discreet busybody.”

“Guilty as charged,” Dad says, with a hand to his chest. He smiles back.

Kaname eases. He really does need to talk about her memories. About the horrible things she went through when she was cursed. About the history he saw through her eyes, and the people she met and cared for and hated.

And through her eyes, he can see the spirit world again. He can see it for centuries.

He chooses a memory, and starts to talk.

Kaname spends the whole afternoon and evening sharing Hiiragi’s memories with his dad. He finally stops when he’s in danger of losing his voice, and that night his sleep is deep and dreamless.

When he wakes up, he’s relieved to feel mostly like himself again. Her memories seem to be settling inside him the same way Asagi’s did. He wonders if being close to Hiiragi today will stir them back up, and if he’ll get more energy and memories from her. Maybe that would only happen if they had to do another spell together.

But what about other yokai? What will happen when they go to Kiriganuma? Maybe they do need to protect themselves with detachment, like Natori-san said.

“We don’t have to go,” Dad tells him, seeing his worry.

“If we don’t, Takashi’s going to go on his own,” Kaname says. He saw yesterday how determined Takashi is to help the earth spirits. It could be the sparrow situation all over again, even though they still don’t know exactly what happened with that. They can’t let him get hurt again, or the Fujiwaras will go to the police about Takashi’s ‘stalker’, and then what? “I have to stay with him.”

Dad’s expression softens. “I suppose you do.”

Kaname blushes.

They pick up Takashi, with the continued cover story of exploring Sakaki. Takashi looks better than he did yesterday, and he’s ready and determined to go to Kiriganuma. To Kaname’s relief, Ponta is with him, though he smells strongly of sake. It’s a miracle that the Fujiwaras don’t think Takashi has a drinking problem.

“Are you still drunk?” Kaname asks, disapproving.

“We partied til dawn!” Ponta slurs proudly.

“How are you going to protect us like this?” Kaname chides.

Ponta gives a dismissive wave of his paw. “It’ll be fine. Those weakling earth spirits were no match for me last time. If they try anything they’re gonna end up as my next snack!”

He licks his chops in anticipation. Then he gives a loud burp.

“Sensei!” Takashi chides, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry about this,” he tells them.

“I’m sure we’ll be all right, with Natori-san and my dad,” Kaname offers.

It won’t be like before. They have plenty of protection this time.

As they settle into the back seat, Kaname glances at Takashi’s waist pack. But when Takashi turns to him, Kaname quickly looks away from it and gives him a reassuring smile.

In the bright morning sun, Kiriganuma station looks peaceful. Last week’s storms washed away every trace of the terrible fight that took place here. Birds twitter in the trees overhead. The floodwater around the abandoned station is placid, disturbed only by water skimmers and hungry fish.

But Kaname can’t look at the water without remembering being pulled down, his lungs burning as he struggled desperately for the surface.

He looks over to Takashi, wondering if being back here is disturbing to him, too. But Takashi’s expression is still determined.

Ponta’s snoring behind him. Kaname didn’t want Takashi to have to carry his drunk bodyguard all the way to the mine. So the cat is a surprisingly light weight in Kaname’s backpack.

“This was where the attack took place?” Natori-san asks.

When Kaname and Takashi both don’t answer, Dad does. “Yes. And there was an earlier attack further up the tracks. Should we go there as well?”

Natori-san looks at the rail line leading towards Moriguchi, where the earth spirits used the trees to attack them. The hostility Kaname felt from them there had struck his head with blinding pain. It’s weak, but he can feel that same hostility now.

Maybe coming back here was a mistake.

“Urihime,” Natori-san calls. “Go take a look.”

One of the three shadows of Natori-san’s shiki rises up and flies away, following the tracks. In the bright sunlight, with his new glasses, he can see their silhouettes well enough to tell them apart. The sharp horns of Hiiragi’s mask, Urihime’s long hair, and the puff of Sasago’s curly hair, which just hides her ram’s horns. He uses his memories of them to fill in the rest, to see them fully in his mind’s eye.

To Kaname’s disappointment, just being next to Hiiragi doesn’t seem to have any effect on him. That’s probably for the best. But it’s hard to feel so close to her, know her so deeply, when the reality is they’ve barely even talked.

Did the other shiki tell her about the memories? Is she upset? Does she care? He can’t clearly see her mask, much less her face.

“We have a long walk ahead,” Natori-san says. “Let’s get going.”

They follow him as the road rises up away from the floodwaters, and winds up the mountainside. The remnants of a light rail line peek up through the leaves, rotted wood and rusted metal. Presumably it was used to transport coal and people between the mine to the station. Now they have to make the trek on foot.

Even the road they’re on is being reclaimed by the forest. As they walk deeper in, only the decaying rail line is left to guide them. And even that gets harder to see, interrupted by fallen trees and by new ones that grew up between the rotted wood.

Still, Natori-san leads them on confidently, guided by Sasago. And Kaname knows they’re going the right way. He feels the hostility ahead of them, like true north to a compass needle. He drifts closer to his dad. Before Takashi came into their lives, if Kaname felt anything like this, he would have asked his dad to purify it away. And now here they are, walking the road right towards it.

And then the road goes in the side of the mountain.

Built into a steep cliff is the concrete face of a tunnel that’s big enough to stand in. The rail line leads into it. Carved into the stone above the tunnel, the letters worn but legible, is “Kiriganuma Coal Mine”.

They look for another way around, but the terrain ahead is steep and rocky. They’re prepared for a walk in the woods, not mountain climbing. Ponta might be able to fly them the rest of the way, but he’s still drunk and snoring.

“This is a problem,” Natori-san says.

Kaname goes back to the tunnel entrance. Takashi follows him, and they inspect it.

A cool breeze wafts out of the tunnel, hinting at a clear exit on the other end. And it’s not just the tunnel itself that’s intact. The rail line springs back to life inside it. Presumably the tunnel shields it from the elements, preserving the wood and metal. The tops of the rails even gleam, as if polished by recent use.

Dad joins them and peers into the darkness. “I wonder if it’s passable?”

“If it is, this will lead us directly to the mine,” Natori-san says. “Sasago, go take a look.”

Sasago’s shadow approaches the tunnel, then vanishes into the darkness.

“Does anyone have a flashlight?” Dad asks.

Hiiragi’s shadow walks over. She holds out her hand, and a ball of light appears over it. The bright light makes her silhouette even clearer.

“Impressive,” Natori-san says, pleased.

Shiki really are very helpful.

Sasago returns and confirms that the way is clear. Natori-san and Hiiragi take the lead, and Sasago the rear, and they enter the tunnel.

Inside, the tunnel is bare rock, grey and reddish, roughly carved from the mountain, and reinforced by thick wooden timbers. Though it’s mostly dry, here and there groundwater trickles down the wall, and the air smells musty, mineral, sulfurous. Kaname can feel the weight of the mountain above them, threatening to break this old tunnel and crush them. He looks at Hiiragi leading them with her light, and he holds on to the memory of her mountain, and how safe it felt to her.

They have to walk single-fine, and watch their steps. There’s coal scattered along the track, as if it had just fallen off the train, and alarmingly some rocks that crumbled from the walls. Every sound they make echoes eerily, and Hiiragi’s light fills the darkness around them with ominous shadows. Surely a place like this has yokai haunting it. If there are any here, Kaname wouldn’t be able to make them out, just like he can’t see Sasago behind them. But Natori-san and Takashi walk steadily on.

And then at last there’s a hint of sunlight ahead, and the scent of fresh mountain air.

“We’re almost at the mining town,” Natori-san says, sounding as relieved as Kaname feels, despite his composure. “But don’t expect to see much. Sasago said it’s all forest now, with a few ruins.”

Kaname hopes they’ll be able to find another way back when they leave. He has to stop himself from rushing to the exit. He can see it now, bright sunlight and a hint of green.

And then he stops, suddenly overcome by a strange feeling. Like when there’s an earthquake and the whole world sways under his feet. But the tunnel walls are completely still.

Takashi and Natori-san stop too.

Ponta stops snoring, and Kaname feels him shifting in his backpack.

“Is something wrong?” Dad asks.

“You felt that?” Natori-san asks them.

Kaname and Takashi both nod.

“Let’s get out of here,” Natori-san says, and they hurry forward. But as they do, Kaname smells something else on the fresh mountain air. There’s something burning out there. A forest fire? But then he smells—

Food?

As they walk out into the sunlight, Kaname squints, blinded after the tunnel’s darkness. But as his vision adjusts—

Kiriganuma Coal Mine should be gone. There should be nothing left, just forest and a few ruins.

But the rail line running out of the tunnel remains intact. It runs straight ahead, across a road, over an iron bridge, and then further up to a gathering of industrial-looking wooden buildings. A coal train is parked next to one, half-filled with coal, as if it’s in the middle of being loaded. There’s buildings to the right of the rail line, residential ones, and even more to the left.

And that’s not all he can see.

He can see Hiiragi standing beside Natori-san. Not just as shadows and memories, but with his own eyes.

How?

Takashi suddenly turns and rushes back to the tunnel. But as he reaches the entrance, he stops short and falls to the ground.

They rush over to him, but he’s already getting back up and waiving away their concern.

“There’s a barrier,” Ponta declares, his voice no longer slurred from drink. He climbs from the backpack to Kaname’s shoulder, then hops down. He prods at the invisible barrier blocking the tunnel. Then he turns to them, his expression serious.

“We’re trapped.”

Chapter Text

Kousuke steps carefully as they walk along the rail line in the old tunnel. The light ahead of them flickers gently, as if lit by a candle flame, and everyone ahead of him catches some of that light, casting long and wavering shadows.

Everyone human, that is. He can’t see Hiiragi at the head of the group, only the light she somehow summoned. Just as he can’t see Sasago behind him, apparently protecting them from other invisible things that might spring from the darkness. As always, he has to trust in the senses of others to know the full world around him. Kaname, Takashi, Nyanko-sensei, and now Natori-san.

The more involved Kousuke gets with the spirit world, the more blind and deaf he feels. The more he relates to Kaname’s long-held frustration. The light guiding their way is yet another tantalizing glimpse of everything just out of reach. Of a world he desperately needs to understand, for Kaname, for Takashi, for the Fujiwaras and their hope of being a true family with their son.

It’s hard to envision Touko or Shigeru coming to a place like this. But they chose Takashi despite all his difficulties, because of those difficulties. Kousuke believes they will rise to meet whatever challenges Takashi’s life brings them. Even if that means accepting far more danger than they can imagine, danger they can’t perceive or stop. Accepting it, and walking towards it.

At last there’s a hint of sunlight ahead, and the scent of fresh mountain air.

“We’re almost at the mining town,” Natori-san says, sounding as relieved as Kousuke feels. “But don’t expect to see much. Sasago said it’s all forest now, with a few ruins.”

And then all three humans ahead of Kousuke stop short. They look around, reacting with alarm, but Kousuke sees and feels nothing unusual.

“Is something wrong?” Kousuke asks.

“You felt that?” Natori-san asks the boys.

Kaname and Takashi both nod. The way they’re sharing this experience, facing it together— Despite whatever danger it means, the sight gives Kousuke such relief. He gives a quick prayer of thanks to Buddha and all the gods for helping the two find each other, and asks that they continue to watch over them.

“Let’s get out of here,” Natori-san says, and they hurry forward.

As they walk out into the sunlight, Kousuke squints, blinded after the tunnel’s darkness. But as his vision adjusts—

He sees four people stopped in front of him. Kaname, Takashi, Natori-san— And a woman in traditional dress, a light yukata and a dark haori robe, and— Is that a katana slung over her back? And— Horns?!

He knows her. He saw her in Kaname’s sketches. But how on earth is he able to see Hiiragi?!

While he stares in shock, another woman walks past him, dressed almost the same. Ram’s horns peek out from her curly hair. Sasago! Just like in Asagi’s painting!

And then as his eyes follow Sasago, he finally notices what everyone else has been staring at.

Are they in the wrong place? Did they stumble onto an active coal mine? He didn’t think there were any left here. They’ve all been closed for decades.

If this is Kiriganuma Coal Mine, it doesn’t look like it’s been closed for decades. It looks like— Not modern, but— A historical recreation. But lived in and real.

Takashi suddenly turns and rushes back to the tunnel. But as he reaches the entrance, he stops short and falls to the ground. They rush over to him, but he’s already getting back up and waiving away their concern.

“There’s a barrier,” Ponta declares, his voice no longer slurred from drink. He climbs from the backpack to Kaname’s shoulder, then hops down. He prods at the invisible barrier blocking the tunnel. Then he turns to them, his expression serious.

“We’re trapped.”

“Trapped?” Kousuke echoes, confused. He takes two steps towards the tunnel and it’s like walking into a glass door. He rubs his nose and adjusts his glasses, and then reaches out.

A barrier. There’s nothing physically there. Nothing he can sense, at least. But it might as well be solid stone instead of air.

“Sasago?” Kaname says, amazed. Kousuke turns to see Kaname staring at Sasago, taking his new glasses on and off. Then he keeps them off. He must not need them here.

“You can see her?” Natori-san says, alarmed.

“Ah, it appears— So can I,” Kousuke says, feeling rather dazed by all this. He smiles warmly at Sasago, then at Hiiragi. “I don’t know how this is possible, but— It’s truly a pleasure to see you both.”

Kaname stares at Kousuke in even more amazement. “How?”

“It’s the barrier,” Nyanko-sensei declares. “It makes yokai visible to normal humans.”

“Oh!” Kaname says, realizing something. “Like at the old schoolhouse?”

“You’ve seen this before?” Natori-san asks.

“Just a few weeks ago,” Kaname says, and looks to Takashi, then back to Natori-san. “We were at a test of courage and— It was just like this. We couldn’t get out, and I could see the yokai there.”

So much has happened in those few weeks. So much has changed.

“How did you get free?” Natori-san asks.

Kaname hesitates, and looks to Takashi again.

When Takashi doesn’t speak up, Nyanko-sensei declares, “My majestic and powerful self, obviously.” Then he gives the barrier a dismissive kick. “I’ll get rid of this just as easy. Once I find those weakling earth spirits, I’ll make them my next snack!”

Kousuke would appreciate Nyanko-sensei’s confidence more if he wasn’t lying about what happened at the schoolhouse. He and Kaname haven’t been able to figure out exactly how Takashi saved them, but they know from Sasada that it was Takashi. And now Nyanko-sensei is hiding that fact from Natori-san.

Takashi. He hasn’t said anything since they left the tunnel. And between Kaname’s worried glances and Nyanko-sensei’s unusual protectiveness—

“I’m sure you will,” Natori-san says, tolerantly. “In the meantime, we need to find an opening in this barrier. Sasago, go look for a gap or a weak spot. Come back as soon as you find anything.”

With a nod, Sasago flies up into the air. Kaname and Kousuke both stare after her, and then look at each other and grin.

How amazing, to experience all this! And to share it fully with Kaname! He can’t help but feel giddy.

He sees Natori-san watching them with an odd expression.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kousuke apologizes, trying to compose himself. “It’s just— This is all so—“

And then he sees Takashi. His expression is calm, almost stoic. But his whole body is so tense he’s trembling. And after his terrible reaction yesterday—

Kousuke immediately calms, and tries to share that calm with Takashi. “Well,” he starts. “We did come here to try to understand and help the earth spirits. If they’re doing all of this, then there must be a reason.”

“You’re right,” Natori-san says. “Creating and sustaining an entire town— That takes a lot of power. If we can figure that what’s driving it, we’ll know how to stop them.”

Hiiragi walks up to Takashi and silently stares at him through her mask. Takashi stares back, startled from his tense state.

“Strip!” Hiiragi commands.

“Huh?” Takashi says, confused.

“Take off your clothes!” Hiiragi commands, rather urgently. “Right now!”

Apparently unwilling to wait, she rushes forward and grabs at Takashi’s shirt and jacket, clearly intending to pull them off him herself. Before any of them can intervene, Takashi yelps and punches her hard, right on the jaw. Hiiragi falls to the ground, stunned.

Takashi stares down at her, horrified. “I’m so sorry! I just—“

Kaname has told Kousuke about Takashi’s strong punch, but seeing it in action— Kousuke has carried and tended to the boy. And Hiiragi is a mountain guardian, he knows about her strength. Takashi seems much too frail for his punches to have such a powerful effect on her.

He glances over at Nyanko-sensei. The cat only seems amused.

Kousuke and Kaname both move to help Hiiragi, but she waves them off. She takes her sheathed sword from her shoulder and jabs it into the ground, then pulls herself up with it.

“Hiiragi,” Natori-san starts, finally intervening.

Hiiragi doesn’t respond to him. Instead she takes a brush from her sleeve. Somehow it’s already tipped with ink. She looks ready to lunge at Takashi with it.

“Ah,” Natori-san says, understanding. “It’s all right,” he tells them. He reaches up and opens the top buttons of his shirt, and then pulls the fabric aside. A strange character has been drawn on his skin, over his heart. It ripples like it’s alive.

Takashi gasps, disturbed.

“Did you see something like this on Isa-san?” Natori-san asks him.

Takashi nods. “Is it—“

“Now that Hiiragi is my shiki, I can see her writing.” Natori-san says. “But this is protective, not a curse. She put this on me this morning.” He buttons his shirt closed. “It’s a good idea for all of you.”

Takashi still looks wary.

Kousuke steps forward and pulls aside his robes. “Thank you, Hiiragi.”

Hiiragi’s brush tickles his chest as she paints on the character. A curving line, a dot, three small lines. As soon as she takes her brush away, it seems to come alive, rippling like Natori-san’s.

Kaname is next. When he pulls up his shirt, his cheeks blush pink, and he looks away. When the character is finished, he reacts as if he feels something from it, then stares down at his chest in fascination.

Ah, even in this place, there are things Kousuke can’t perceive.

Finally, Hiiragi turns back to Takashi. Takashi doesn’t move.

Despite the mask, Hiiragi’s expression seems to soften. “Then show me your arm,” she tells him.

The compromise is accepted, and Takashi rolls up the sleeve of his left arm.

“When written on the heart, this charm will ward off evil,” Hiiragi tells him, gently chiding as writes. “If you are eaten, only your arm will be protected.”

Takashi smiles and thanks her, apparently unbothered by the idea of being eaten. Or perhaps simply used to the risk? Either way, he doesn’t change his mind and pull up his shirt.

She tucks the brush back into her sleeve.

“Hoichi the Earless got his ears ripped off,” Nyanko-sensei chides. “They’ll eat your body and leave your arm behind.”

Kaname picks Nyanko-sensei up and puts him into Takashi’s arms. “Then you have to keep him safe, Ponta.”

Nyanko-sensei crawls up onto Takashi’s shoulder and settles there.

Kousuke recalls the story of Hoichi the Earless. The blind minstrel was painted with the Heart sutra to protect him from spirits. But the helpful priest neglected to paint his ears, and they were ripped from Hoichi’s head.

Kousuke can’t help but shudder at the thought of returning Takashi’s severed arm to the Fujiwaras.

If they had let Takashi go here with only Nyanko-sensei, or even alone— Would he have come back at all?

Kousuke notices that Natori-san is also looking at Takashi with concern. But then he hides it away behind calm determination.

“Let’s go,” Natori-san says.

They head towards the town. When they reach the crossroads, the industrial workings of the mine are straight ahead, past an iron bridge. To the left is the heart of the town, and beyond that the miner’s dormitories. To the right is a small area with fancier residences, probably for those in charge of operations. All the buildings are simply built and made of wood.

Takashi starts heading for the iron bridge, but Natori directs them to the left.

“Let’s see what we can find out first,” Natori-san says.

Takashi hesitates, obviously drawn to the source of the problem. But he obeys Natori-san and turns away.

A narrow river winds its way around the town, and the first building they reach is a watermill. The paddle wheel turns steadily, and the smell of freshly-ground rice drifts from inside.

A set of bath houses stands across the road, also taking advantage of the river. There are bowls of water inside, some clear, some dark with coal dust. The floor is covered with wet, coal-stained footprints.

Natori-san thinks the earth spirits somehow created all this. Built it, like some kind of reconstruction. But it’s so real, so lived-in. Is it possible that they’ve somehow stepped back in time? But if so, then— Where is everyone?

They find shops well-stocked with supplies, and signs written in both Japanese and Korean. A food hall with rows of tables, bowls of half-eaten food that still steam with warmth. A humble shrine behind a Torii gate, set facing a hospital. The river curves back around, and across the wooden bridge is another set of bath houses, and then the dormitories.

Damp laundry hangs on lines between the buildings, drying in the sun. An assortment of mining tools are propped against the walls. Most of the simple futons are rolled up, but some are out as if they’re being slept in. A small futon has a child’s stuffed toy resting by the pillow.

“There were families here,” Natori-san observes.

“Is that important?” Kousuke asks.

“Possibly,” Natori-san says. “Many yokai are embodiments of psychic energy. Anything that could drive powerful emotions could be a clue.”

Kousuke looks at the stuffed toy again, and understands. He looks over and sees Kaname rubbing his head.

“Do you feel something?” he asks, very familiar with the gesture and its meaning.

“I don’t know,” Kaname admits. “This whole place makes my head hurt.”

Takashi and Natori-san both go still, listening, or maybe feeling for something nearby. Kousuke only sees the laundry swaying in the breeze, coal dust already staining the clean clothes. It must get into everything, despite all attempts to keep it out.

Mining isn’t an easy job, or an easy life. What was it like for the people here? What pain could they have left behind to cause the earth spirits to do all of this?

There’s a tinkling sound as Hiiragi pulls out her sword. Two small bells dangle from the handle. Natori reaches into his jacket and pulls out one of his paper talismans. Even though they were only reunited yesterday, the two seem to already be prepared to work as a team.

And it’s a good thing they are, because the attack happens fast. A large black blur swoops down from the sky, all huge red eyes and claws and fangs. Kousuke rushes over to Kaname and Takashi and Nyanko-sensei, and the four of them take shelter inside.

“Exorcist!” the creature snarls, and lunges at Natori-san. “How dare you come here?!”

Hiiragi strikes out with her sword. Her blade can’t seem to cut into the creature, so she catches the creature’s claws and knocks them away. Natori-san flings talismans, and a few of them land on the creature’s body. The creature falls with a screech and tries to claw off the papers, but they’re stuck. Hiiragi leaps on it again, and pins it down while Natori slaps another talisman directly on the creature’s head.

The creature goes limp.

Takashi hurries out, with Nyanko-sensei still perched on his shoulder. Kousuke and Kaname cautiously follow. The creature is huge, a strange cross between a monkey and a cat, with a long, muscular body and fluffy tail. Its fur is dark and spotted like a leopard; baggy fur stretches between its limbs, like that of a gliding mammal.

“Is it an earth spirit?” Kaname asks.

Nyanko-sensei hops down and inspects the creature. “It’s a fūri.”

“A fūri?” Natori-san echoes, surprised. “I’ve never seen one this big. Or this dangerous.”

“It’s the malice,” Nyanko-sensei declares.

“Like Mikuri?” Takashi says, eyes widening with realization.

“Mikuri?” Natori-san asks.

Takashi hesitates, and glances at Kaname and Kousuke. Then he faces Natori-san with reluctant determination. “When we came here before— It wasn’t just the earth spirits. There was another yokai, a catfish named Mikuri. He—“ He swallows. “Mikuri was angry, so the angry earth spirits possessed him. Changed him, like this.”

Takashi kneels down and reaches out. He places his hand on the fūri’s huge paw, unbothered by the giant claws that could so easily rip him in two. “Sensei, can you help the fūri, the way you helped Mikuri?”

Nyanko-sensei gives him an exasperated look, but before he can reply, Kaname makes a pained sound and grabs his head. Kousuke automatically catches him before he can fall. He’s helped Kaname so many times when he’s been like this, suddenly overcome with pain, but now—

A menacing laugh seems to come from all around them.

“Another fūri?” Kousuke asks.

“No,” Nyanko-sensei says, and with a sudden puff of smoke—

A huge white wolf towers over them, even bigger than the fūri. Nyanko-sensei’s wolf form!

Kousuke only has a moment to admire him, and compare him to Asagi’s painting. And then another black shape attacks them! Nyanko-sensei bares his huge teeth and growls, then leaps into the air. The new creature— new yokai— doesn’t look like an animal. It’s humanoid with coal-black skin. The yukata it wears shifts and stretches with its strange body, which contorts and swells as it grapples with Nyanko-sensei.

The red character on Nyanko-sensei’s forehead suddenly glows blue, and bright light blasts the yokai. The yokai falls back, but then rallies with even more anger.

“I’ll eat you alive!” snarls the yokai. “I’ll chew on your bones!”

Kousuke and Takashi drag Kaname back inside. Takashi holds Kaname’s arm tightly, his knuckles white.

Hiiragi leaps up, and this time when she swings her sword, it cuts into the yokai. The yokai screams in anger and pain as they wrestle it to the ground. Again, Natori uses his talismans, and the second yokai is sent sprawling to the ground.

Kaname’s pain eases. He gets unsteadily to his feet and leans heavily against the doorframe. “What— What is that? It felt— Awful.”

“You’re sensitive to negative energy,” Natori-san reminds him. “That’s what this yokai is. Hiiragi!”

Hiiragi takes her sword and starts to draw a circle around the second yokai.

“What are you doing?” Takashi asks, alarmed.

“Sealing it,” Natori-san says, firmly. “The talismans won’t hold it for long.”

“You can’t!” Takashi says. He heads for the circle, clearly intending to interrupt Hiiragi, but Natori-san stands in his way. When Takashi tries to go around him, Natori-san grabs his arm.

“This isn’t like the fūri,” Natori-san tells him. “It’s only anger and greed. You can’t help it.”

Takashi glares at him, clearly determined to help this yokai anyway. But then Nyanko-sensei gives an angry huff and shakes his huge head.

Takashi backs down, but he’s not happy about it.

“Be quick, brat,” Nyanko-sensei growls, as he looks warily around them.

Natori-san goes over and helps Hiiragi complete the circle. She takes a ceramic jar out of her sleeve, the same way she took out the brush, and hands it to him.

“Those who protect the darkness,” Natori-san intones. “Grab hold!”

Wind rises around the circle, then swirls around the open jar. The yokai stirs, and it reaches up to rip the talismans from its body. But before it can—

Shadowy hands reach out from the jar. They stretch and stretch, and wrap around the yokai like rope. The yokai struggles and snarls, but the hands hold it tight as they pull it into the jar. Natori-san struggles to hold the jar steady. As soon as the last bit of the hands and yokai vanish inside, he jams in the stopper. Then he falls to his knees, panting.

He hands the sealed jar to Hiiragi, and she puts it back in her sleeve.

“Something that strong—“ Natori-san says, still catching his breath. “Whether it was possessed or— Whether it was just feeding from the negative energy here—“ He shakes his head and stands. “Let’s get back to the tunnel. We’ll find a way to break through.”

They rush back the way they came, through the dormitory area and back towards the center of town. But just as they reach the wooden bridge, Kaname stumbles with pain. It’s the only warning they have.

An absolutely monstrous toad lurches up from the river, and its huge tongue darts towards them and smacks into Takashi. Kousuke and Kaname both grab Takashi but that only means all three of them are yanked off their feet! Rainbow-colored breath surrounds them as the tongue pulls them over the railing and into the toad’s huge, gaping maw.

He only has a second to think about Hiiragi’s protective charm. Will it save them—? Takashi’s arm—!

But before they can be swallowed, Hiiragi’s sword cuts through the sticky tongue. Just as quick, she grabs the amputated tongue and swings them away from the toad and into the water.

They’re saved from the toad, but they’re still stuck to the gluey, amputated tongue. The current carries them under the bridge and right into Natori-san and Nyanko-sensei’s fight against an equally monstrous giant salamander! And then the giant salamander sees them and opens its absolutely massive mouth.

They’re saved again as the tongue is yanked up onto the riverbank. As the three of them lay there gasping, a figure launches itself at the giant salamander. Sasago!

By the time the three of them manage to free themselves from the tongue, both monstrous yokai have been subdued by Natori-san’s talismans.

And then Kaname clutches his head again, and his knees buckle. Kousuke catches him, holds him up. The pain is taking a toll.

Nyanko-sensei growls as they brace for the next attack.

“Sasago, did you find a way out?” Natori-san asks, urgent.

“Nothing,” Sasago says, annoyed about it.

“The shrine,” Takashi says, still breathless. “We have to get to the shrine!”

The shrine isn’t far. But even as they start towards it, more yokai appear. Several giant birds, each pheasant-like with a strangely long neck and a turtle’s beak. The bird yokai circle above them, and swoop down at them with their huge claws. Giant, red-colored insects snap threateningly with the sharp pincers on their jaws and tails.

They reach the shrine and rush through the torii gate. Takashi stops, relieved, but then—

The yokai follow them in!

“It’s not a real shrine!” Takashi realizes, pale with horror. Whatever the earth spirits made here, it won’t protect them.

Yokai draw in from all sides. Kousuke distantly notes how even more kinds have appeared, including more of the humanoid, coal-black yokai that grin at them with malicious hunger.

They’re surrounded.

“Dad,” Kaname says, voice strained with agony. “You have to—“

He cuts off, but he doesn’t have to say anything more. Kousuke knows what he has to do. What he should have done the moment Kaname’s head started to hurt.

“Get behind me,” he tells everyone. “Hurry!”

Natori-san turns to him, confused. Then his eyes widen as he realizes.

“Move!” Natori-san commands to his shiki.

The moment they’re safely behind him, Kousuke performs his simple, familiar blessing, and soothes the spirits.

A massive wave of blinding light and stunning power blasts out of him.

The force of it should knock him off his feet, the way it does everyone else, including everyone behind him. But he just stands there, not feeling anything, the same way he’s never felt anything from his blessings.

Not all the yokai were caught in the blast. He walks a few steps around everyone he’s protecting and blesses again, walks and blesses again, walks and blesses again, and for good measure blesses above and below.

And just like that, all the yokai are gone. The town is quiet again.

His blessings also knocked down everyone he’s protecting. He rushes to Kaname’s side, calls his name. But Kaname eyes don’t open.

Kousuke pulls him up and hugs him tight.

From the corner of his vision, he notices Natori-san sitting up and staring at him in shock. He can see the questions in Natori-san’s eyes. How on earth does he have this extraordinary power? And why?

Kousuke has the same questions, and no answers.