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Natsume first sees the youkai while walking home with Nishimura and Kitamoto. It peers out from behind a tree, long white hair flowing all the way to the ground, where it almost blends in with the snow. As soon as Natsume lays eyes on the youkai, it ducks quickly back behind the tree.
Natsume bites at the inside of his cheek. Were he alone, he might approach the youkai to make sure it didn’t follow him home… He has done his fair share of freaking out Nishimura and Kitamoto, though, so he continues to walk in step with them as if he hasn’t seen anything. When he looks over his shoulder a minute or so later, it’s peeking out again.
There isn’t time to think about it before Nishimura pelts a snowball at Natsume and teases him for “daydreaming.” Natsume is secretly thankful that Nishimura often assumes he’s daydreaming about girls—which is major projection, if you ask him—because it saves him from thinking of some sort of explanation for his behavior.
Still, he won’t just stand there after being hit; he crouches down to gather up his own snowball and throws it in Nishimura’s direction, hitting him in the shoulder. Nishimura feigns being gravely wounded, nursing his shoulder with his opposite hand and staggering backward in the snow.
The three boys laugh and continue on their way, Natsume forgetting the youkai that watches them until they disappear from sight.
Over the next week, he sees it again a few times, always hiding somewhat poorly among the trees. Still, it hasn’t caused any trouble or come knocking on his window in the night with any requests. Skittish, it ducks into the brush whenever Natsume turns in its direction.
One day, though, it stands in the middle of the path, hair dragging on the ground behind. Both of its arms are outstretched to the sides, blocking the entirety of the path. Natsume stops in his tracks, and Tanuma—who is headed to the Fujiwara’s with Natsume today to help with some coursework—walks another step or two before looking over his shoulder inquisitively.
“Everything alright, Natsume?”
Natsume blinks at the youkai. He hadn’t been able to tell from afar, but the youkai’s eyes are entirely black. It blinks slowly back at him.
“Natsume Reiko,” it says, lowering its arms. Its voice is deep, smooth, and slow. Caramel-like. The wind jostles its white hair, so slightly.
“Natsume?” Tanuma repeats.
“It’s okay, I think,” Natsume responds to Tanuma, before turning his attention back to the youkai: “I’m not Reiko-san. I’m her grandson.” He pauses, watching the youkai’s unchanging expression. “Reiko-san has—”
The youkai interrupts: “I feared that to be true.” It falls silent for a beat, then two. “Grandson of Natsume Reiko, will you help me find my flute?”
Natsume glances over at Tanuma, who patiently waits to be informed of what’s happening. “I could help you another day,” Natsume replies, “I just have coursework to do today, so I should go home with my friend.”
Tanuma tilts his head. “It’s not due until—”
Natsume cuts him off with a look. He doesn’t have to say aloud that he doesn’t want to tangle Tanuma in another potentially dangerous situation for the sentiment to be heard loud and clear.
Still, Tanuma is stubborn. He turns towards the youkai, where he must be able to sense a faint presence, and says, “We’ll help you. With whatever… it is, that you need.”
The youkai looks between the two boys, one looking hesitant and the other rather triumphant, and says, “Very well then. Follow me.”
“It says to follow,” Natsume conveys, watching as the youkai turns around and starts off into the forest.
It had been snowing on and off all of yesterday and today, so Touko-san made Takashi wear his winter boots this morning. He’s more than thankful for that as they trudge through the fresh snow, he and Tanuma falling in step.
The youkai stops after they’ve been walking quietly for about ten minutes, standing in the middle of a clearing. A few rocks jut out of the snow at the edge of the clearing, and the youkai walks over to take a seat atop one.
“Here is where I last played my flute,” it says, casting its gaze across the clearing. “Another youkai took it.”
“What did this other youkai look like?” Natsume inquires, eyes surveying the surrounding brush for any beings.
“He’s a mischievous thing. Brown, quite small, and round.” The youkai estimates the size with his hands, holding them about ten centimeters wide. “Before Natsume Reiko, he stole my flute frequently. After her intervention…”
Natsume can imagine Reiko knocking the little youkai over the head and telling him to get a new hobby, and the thought makes him chuckle a bit. Tanuma stands beside Natsume and waits for an explanation.
“Anyway, he should be around here somewhere. He likes to tease me, holding my flute over his head.” The youkai makes no move to get off of the rock. “I’m never fast enough to catch him, but you should be.”
At this moment, the youkai reminds Natsume of Nyanko-sensei, lounging on the rock while delegating tasks.
“Okay,” Natsume replies, turning his attention to Tanuma. “We’re looking for a flute that was stolen by a small youkai. Apparently, he’s around here somewhere.”
Tanuma nods, squinting his eyes as he looks at the surrounding trees. Cute, Natsume thinks for a split second before wishing the thought away, turning his head away from Tanuma to hide the warmth in his cheeks.
In all likelihood, Tanuma probably won’t be able to find much. Maybe he’ll be able to see the flute, but the scampish youkai certainly won’t be powerful enough for Tanuma to even sense its presence.
Still, Tanuma’s company is far from unwelcome as they scour the woods, their eyes snapping over at every gust of wind. Thoroughly convinced now that there isn’t any danger, Natsume’s able to relax, a smile pulling at his lips each time Tanuma points at something that turns out to be nothing. Despite everything, Tanuma still tries his best to help, causing a warm curl in Natsume’s chest. He truly is a kind person.
And then Natsume hears a small, high voice yelp, “Ahh!! Humans!”
He takes a few steps towards the voice and squats near a bush, pushing apart branches to see a little furry youkai cowering, flute held to its chest. The flute is about double the size of the youkai, sticking out above his head. “It’s— N-Natsume Reiko! Don’t hurt me!”
Tanuma peers over Natsume’s shoulder but stays quiet.
“I won’t hurt you,” Natsume responds, not bothering to correct this youkai about the misunderstanding. If Reiko makes him quake in fear, all the easier it is for Natsume to get what he needs. “We just need that flute.” He looks pointedly at the silver flute that glints in the light.
“Take it! Just take it!”
The flute is thrown into the snow, though the youkai doesn’t run away as Natsume had expected.
Natsume lets out an amused huff as he picks the flute up out of the snow. He wipes the snow off with his gloved hands. “Well, that was pretty easy.”
“You have the flute?” Tanuma asks, looking at Natsume’s hands. “I can’t see it. Just the snow.”
“I do,” Natsume answers, casting another glance at the youkai in the bush. His fear must have settled, as he stares now, awe-stricken.
“I thought humans didn’t come back from the dead,” the youkai says, point blank.
“We don’t,” Natsume replies easily. “I’m not Natsume Reiko, I’m her grandson.”
The youkai blinks at him once, twice, before the information sinks in. “What?! You tricked me! How dare you!!”
Natsume stands up and holds the flute in the air, watching as the little youkai jumps around at his feet, all riled up and jabbering nonsense. Completely harmless.
“All right, Tanuma, let’s head back.”
“And now you’re ignoring me! I’ll show you!” The fluffball clings to Natsume’s leg, but he is easily shaken off. Still, he hops after Natsume and Tanuma all the way back to the clearing.
By the time they reach the clearing, the sun is setting, causing long shadows to be cast by the tall trees surrounding them. The little youkai yammers on until it sees the youkai whose flute it stole, promptly sticking out its tongue and blowing a raspberry.
Natsume can’t help but snort. He approaches and sets the flute into the larger youkai’s outstretched hands. To his surprise, the smaller youkai jumps up onto the rock and sits beside the other.
“We’d better get back,” Natsume says to Tanuma, casting his eyes upwards at the darkening sky. “Touko-san will be worried.”
“Wait,” the white-haired youkai says as both boys turn on their heels to leave, “Please, listen to a song.”
Natsume stops, taking hold of Tanuma’s wrist to stop him as well. “It wants to play a song for us.” Natsume’s hand lingers, gloved fingers wrapped around Tanuma’s sleeve. Through the layers of fabric, there’s no way that Natsume could feel Tanuma’s pulse, so he must be feeling his own.
“Back then, I played this song for Natsume Reiko. She said she would return to listen again.”
The story is far too familiar to Natsume; he knows immediately that Reiko never came back.
“Truth be told…” the youkai looks a little sheepish, if that’s possible. “I told my little friend to steal my flute again, thinking that maybe… Just maybe…”
Reiko would come to the rescue again.
The youkai begins to play, and Natsume’s eyes widen as he hears the melody—he knows it. Intrinsically. In his mind’s eye, he sees Reiko dancing alone in this clearing, and he doesn’t think before he takes Tanuma’s hands in his own and says, “Let’s dance.”
Tanuma blinks at him. “I can’t hear anything.”
Natsume blinks back, cheeks flushed. “I could—um, I’ll hum it for you.”
And so he does. Tanuma wraps an arm around Natsume’s waist as Natsume begins to hum the melody, voice in tune with flute. They sway together in time, gloved hands clasped together and torsos touching. The moon peeks out from behind the trees just as snow begins to fall around them. Natsume casts a glance over at the youkai who sit together on the rock, the smaller one leaning up against the larger.
In Tanuma’s arms, all Natsume feels is warm and safe despite the cold. He can’t ignore the way that Tanuma makes him feel—not now. He couldn’t hide his blush if he tried.
The song ends far too soon. Several beats after the end, Tanuma and Natsume still stand in each others’ arms, bargaining for more time. Eyes locked.
Tanuma backs away first, clearing his throat and then casting Natsume a bashful smile. “That was nice,” he says quietly. “It’s a little hard for me to remember… that we aren’t alone.”
Natsume swallows, throat tight. What would Tanuma have done, had they been alone? The thought causes a shiver to run up Natsume’s spine.
“There’s just one more thing I have to do,” Natsume says, “Wait for me in the forest, okay?”
Tanuma nods and heads into the woods while Natsume finds the Book of Friends in his bag. He doesn’t have to ask to know these two youkai have their names in the book, so he approaches them and offers their names back to them.
After their names have been returned, Natsume, who is now significantly more tired, finds Tanuma and they begin walking back to the Fujiwaras’ house.
“Natsume, I—” Tanuma cuts himself off, shaking his head. “I hope you aren’t angry with me for volunteering us back there.”
Honestly, that had been the furthest from Natsume’s mind in this moment. “I’m not angry with you,” he replies.
“I’m glad we could—well, you could help them.”
“Even if you don’t feel like you helped, you did,” Natsume says. “Besides, I like your company. Isn’t that enough?”
Tanuma laughs a little. “I guess so.”
They’re quiet for a little while, snow crunching beneath their soles.
“Listen, Natsume,” Tanuma starts again. “Tell me if I’m overstepping and I’ll never mention it again. But—ah, I just… I always want you to be safe, and I know I can’t do much to protect you, but… I want to do all I can. You know? The youkai stuff, it can be a thrill, but in the end, I just want to be with you. Even if it's dangerous.”
Natsume stops walking, his heart hammering in his ears.
“Is that okay?” Tanuma asks.
“More than okay,” Natsume responds, unsure how to express all the feelings that whirl together in his chest. Natsume knows that he naturally draws danger, and he’s tried to push people away because of that in the past. For Tanuma to know exactly what it means to be at Natsume’s side… and for him to want it anyway… “Tanuma, you’re really a great person. I’m so lucky.”
Tanuma just smiles, close-lipped and soft. As they walk, Tanuma’s hand finds Natsume’s and they link together. A beautiful song follows them, from deep within the forest.