Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The dinner table is set for four. Five if he counts the bowl set on the floor for Nyanko-sensei, though the yokai is currently dozing on his lap. Nyanko-sensei is a warm, comforting weight, and Takashi absently strokes his fur. The kitchen is filled with the delicious smells of Touko-san’s cooking, mostly from a pot simmering on the stove. Touko-san hums under her breath as she chops some fresh carrots, her knife tapping rhythmically against the wooden cutting board.

There’s warmth beside him, too, lightly pressing against his arm. Takashi turns and Kaname gives him a shy smile, leans more against him before straightening up. Takashi can’t stop himself from blushing, still not used to— Everything. All of this. It’s too good to be true and he knows it, but he wants it to last forever. He knows it can’t but he wants it so much. His heart hurts with wanting.

“It’s time.”

Takashi looks up to see Shigeru-san walking up with the tea tray. He puts it on the table and distributes the cups, fills them with steaming green tea from the teapot. He puts the teapot back on the tray, and then picks something else up from the tray and holds it out to Takashi. The Book of Friends.

Takashi takes it. It’s so thin now, only a single page left inside. After giving back Name after countless Name, every yokai that Reiko ever formed a contract with is freed. Except for one.

Nyanko-sensei stirs, hops up from his lap onto the table. He sniffs the Book and then sits, and looks at Takashi serenely.

Takashi looks over at Kaname, and Kaname gives him a reassuring nod. Touko-san turns down the heat on the stove, then comes over, and she and Shigeru-san take their seats. His family is here. Everything is all right.

He opens the Book. He hardly needs to say the words now, not when there’s only a single page left, but this is how it’s done. One last time…

“One who would protect me, show me your name.”

A soft breeze ruffles Takashi’s hair, lifts the single page high. Automatically, he pulls the page free, folds it, and places it between his teeth. He claps his hands together and breathes out, and his breath lifts the ink from the paper, wafts it up into the air.

The Name hovers above the table, as if searching for its destination. Then it turns back and dives right into Takashi’s forehead. He gasps, but he can’t stop the Name from leaving his lips. He never can.

“Natsume Takashi.”

No!

The empty Book lies open on the table, the green covers holding nothing. Nyanko-sensei sits beside it, his eyes still serene. Dread pulls at the pit of Takashi’s stomach.

And then they turn away from him. Touko-san and Shigeru-san and Kaname. They turn away from him and smile at each other, happy, as the dread opens up inside Takashi and swallows him whole, as bright light glows around him and takes him away. He’s fading, dissolving, going where so many freed yokai have gone.

He reaches out, desperate, screaming for them. But his hand goes through the table, through Kaname’s arm. He screams but they don’t hear him, don’t see him. It’s too late. It’s over, it’s over.

Hands grab him and pull him backwards, and he falls into darkness, into a nothingness that screams and claws at him, rips him apart like he’s paper, and he screams—

The scream dies in his throat as he gasps awake, bolting upright, face wet with sweat and tears. Distantly, he hears a thump, an annoyed grunt. His heart is beating rabbit-fast, painful.

His bedroom swims into focus.

A dream. Just a dream.

“You and your nightmares,” Nyanko-sensei grumbles.

“Sorry,” Takashi gasps, still breathless. He’s shaking with adrenaline.

It’s still dark outside. The middle of the night. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to get back to sleep. He’ll end up sleeping in class again. Nothing new, but— He’s been trying not to.

He reaches over and grabs his bag. He always keeps it close. He pulls out the Book.

It’s not empty. It’s thin, but not empty.

He glances at the windows, more than half expecting a yokai to come out of the darkness and tap on the glass, asking for their Name back. Or threaten him and try to steal the Book. Or barge in just to drink sake and keep him up all night. But everything’s quiet. Peaceful.

He clutches the Book against his chest.

There’s a noise in the hall and he freezes. The hallway light comes on. His throat goes tight and he braces himself, still only half-awake, remembering what happened before, when he would wake up screaming one too many times—

The door slides open, and Shigeru-san peeks inside. “Takashi-kun? Nyangoro? Everything all right?”

“Just one of his nightmares,” Nyanko-sensei grumbles.

Shigeru-san pauses. Takashi tries to relax, to pretend everything is fine, like he always used to. It’s getting harder to pretend, these days.

“Sorry,” Takashi finally stammers out. He made too much noise, woke Shigeru-san up, probably Touko-san too. He doesn’t want them to worry about him. He wants them to sleep through the night, undisturbed.

“It’s all right,” Shigeru-san says, gentle. He glances at his watch. “Come downstairs, keep me company. I’ll make some tea.”

A flash of dream makes Takashi tighten his grip on the Book. He should refuse. He should let Shigeru-san go back to sleep, not stay up with him.

“Good, you can get me a midnight snack,” Nyanko-sensei declares, and marches towards the door. He glances back at Takashi and gives him a look.

Takashi sighs and accepts his fate.

He takes a few minutes to pull himself together, then goes downstairs. Shigeru-san is in the kitchen, but Takashi goes past to Shigeru-san’s office, where Nyanko-sensei has already taken his usual perch by the window. Takashi sits on the futon that’s become a fixture in the office and tries to not feel guilty and ashamed for taking up so much space.

He wishes he’d brought the Book down so he could hold it. But it’s safe upstairs in his room. The whole house is thoroughly warded and blessed, from Natori-san and Tanuma-san, and his room doubly-so. The wards are specially designed to allow Nyanko-sensei to come and go, but otherwise any yokai need to wait outside, and if possible keep their visits to certain hours.

Takashi still isn’t entirely happy about all of that. But it was the compromise he agreed to, once he finally told his foster parents and Tanuma-san the truth. Told them about the Book, about Reiko, about—

Shigeru-san carries in the tray, chamomile tea with sweet snacks for the three of them. Takashi holds the cup in his hands, feels the heat through the clay. Smells the herbal steam. Breathes in and out, feels his heartbeat slowing back to normal.

“We can talk about it, if you like,” Shigeru-san offers, as he usually does. “Or we can listen to the radio. I have some work I can do.”

Takashi wants to tell him about the nightmare. He’s told him about others. But this one— He shakes his head, apologetic, his eyes and nose pricking. He does at least manage to not fake a smile. To let his face show what he’s feeling, even if he can’t say it.

Shigeru-san gives him a kind, understanding look that makes Takashi’s heart hurt again. “Okay,” Shigeru-san says, accepting. He picks up the folded blanket from beside the futon and shakes it open, wraps it around Takashi’s shoulders. He pets Takashi’s hair, a few strokes, then the back of his fingers against Takashi’s cheek. Takashi leans against his touch, just a little. Swallows.

The soft click of the radio turning on. Something instrumental, soothing, the volume low. Takashi eats, sips his tea. Nyanko-sensei goes back to sleep and snores softly. The quiet scratch of Shigeru-san’s pen against paper as he writes. The blanket is warm. Takashi nods off a few times, then rouses as Shigeru-san moves him to lie down on the futon, rest his head on a pillow. Shigeru-san tucks the blanket up around him, strokes his hair again, and Takashi’s eyes fall shut.

Chapter Text

The morning sun wakes Takashi. When he opens his eyes and sees Shigeru-san’s office instead of his own bedroom, he cringes, ashamed. He did it again. Troubled Shigeru-san again.

He sighs, angry at himself, his weakness. But he thinks of Shigeru-san’s gentleness, how good it felt to not be alone after that awful nightmare. Shigeru-san’s hand on his head, his quiet company. Takashi turns his face against the pillow, overcome.

He hears footsteps, noises. Shigeru-san and Touko-san are awake and starting their morning routines. Takashi hopes Shigeru-san slept well, after all that. Takashi is surprised at how rested he feels himself. He feels a rush of relief, certain he’ll be able to stay awake through all of his classes today.

Takashi rubs the sleep from his face. He gets up and folds the blanket, puts it back in its usual place with the pillow on top. Nyanko-sensei is still asleep, sprawled in a sunbeam, drooling. Takashi leaves him there and hurries upstairs, stepping quietly, wanting to get back to his room before his foster parents can see that he slept downstairs again, even though they obviously already know.

He knows it’s ridiculous and he wants to blame his half-awake brain, but he’s done this every time it happened so far. Ridiculous.

He slides the door to his room shut behind him and breathes out. He eyes his rumpled futon and feels a flash of remembered panic, the scream in his throat as he woke. He wishes he hadn’t screamed out loud. He picks out his clothes and gets ready for the day. He put his bag over his shoulder, touches the Book tucked safely inside it, and goes downstairs.

Touko-san is in the kitchen, humming to herself as she prepares their breakfast and bentos, and Shigeru-san is in his office, preparing for work. Nyanko-sensei is perched on the counter, now awake and drooling over Touko-san’s cooking.

“Good morning, Takashi-kun!” Touko-san greets, all smiles. “Nyankichi is helping me cook this morning.”

“Give me samples, I’ll make sure everything’s delicious,” Nyanko-sensei demands.

Touko-san just laughs and pets Nyanko-sensei’s head. She lowers the heat under the pan and walks over to Takashi, touches his forehead, checking for a fever. “Shigeru told me you had another bad night. Did you sleep enough? Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes, thank you,” Takashi says, genuinely. He really does feel all right. “Shigeru-san was very kind. I slept well.”

“I’m so glad,” Touko-san says, visibly relieved. “I’ll put an extra treat in your bento today.” She gets a teasing look. “I’ll have to put two extra treats, so you can share with Tanuma-kun.”

“Three extra treats!” Nyanko-sensei insists.

Touko-san laughs. “Three it is.”

Takashi tries not to blush and fails. He retreats to the safety of his usual seat at the table. Fiddles with the strap of his bag before setting it down.

“Did you remember to charge your phone?” Touko-san asks, as she stirs.

“Oh!” Takashi says. “Um. Yes.” He opens his bag and takes out his still-new cell phone. He just took it off the charger, but he checks the battery anyway. It’s full, of course, and he reflexively checks the signal bars, even though there’s plenty of reception here. It’s out in the woods and up the mountains where there’s sometimes no signal at all, as he’s learned.

He has to text his foster parents regularly now. A quick text that he got to school safely. Another to let them know he’ll be going to Kaname’s house, and another when he gets there. A quick text if he’ll be going off into the forest because a yokai needs his help, and if he’ll be staying out all night.

He can still go help the yokai. He can choose to do whatever he wants, even if it’s dangerous. But he has to let them know, as best as he can. It will help them worry less. They bought him this cell phone so they could worry less. Such an expense.

He looks over his texts to them from the past few weeks, making sure he didn’t forget any of his check-ins. He knows he didn’t but he looks anyway. It makes an inadvertent log of his life, school and friends and visits to the Dog’s Circle in the forest and the frequent interruptions when a yokai approaches him out of curiosity or hunger or need, helped when necessary and dispatched by Nyanko-sensei when necessary, mostly without too much fuss.

It’s been a calm few weeks, really. He hasn’t been asked to return any Names, hasn’t stumbled into any exorcisms or been dragged off by powerful yokai. But the longer the calm goes on, the more he dreads the inevitable storm. Dreads what will happen when he misses his check-in because he can’t reach his phone, or he’s been taken somewhere there’s no signal, or worse. No matter how careful he tries to be, it’s only a matter of time.

He puts the phone back into his bag, safely beside the Book. He sits, fidgets. The bandage on his arm is coming loose, so he pulls it off, checks the scratches from his most recent encounter with an unruly yokai with sharp claws. The wounds are better, but still red and raw.

“Oh!” Touko-san says, seeing his arm. She walks over to the door and leans out. “Shigeru, can you get the first aid kit? Takashi needs a new bandage.”

“That’s all right,” Takashi stammers, embarrassed. “I can do it myself.”

But it’s too late. Shigeru-san is already walking in with the first aid kit. It’s a big one, well-stocked, and as new as the cell phone.

Takashi tries not to think about how Touko-san fretted over his secret stash of bandages and supplies, which he keeps hidden in the back of his closet. She’d asked how he was taking care of himself when he was hurt, because she hadn’t noticed their old first aid kit being used. He’d reluctantly taken out his supplies, showed them, even though he was burning with shame.

He wouldn’t have shown them if they didn’t ask, but he promised not to lie to them anymore and they did ask.

Takashi stretches out his arm. Shigeru-san cleans the scratches, applies ointment, and wraps the fresh bandage around Takashi’s arm, secures it. His touch is careful, gentle, a little firm. Takashi sometimes imagines what it might have been like if the Fujiwaras had found him from the start, after his father died. If they’d taught him how to ride a bike and bandaged his scraped knees.

When he first got here, he didn’t let himself think things like that. Such thoughts belonged in the same place as his only photo of his parents, hidden away at the bottom of his single cardboard box of belongings. There was no point in hoping for something he’d never have, no point in imagining safety and love.

But now he looks at his freshly bandaged arm and can’t stop wishing.

“Thank you,” he tells Shigeru-san, with feeling.

Shigeru-san smiles and gathers up the old bandages and refuse. He throws them out, puts away the first aid kit, and then goes to make tea as usual.

“There, that’s much better,” Touko-san declares, approving. She seems to worry less when he lets them take care of him like this. “We don’t want you to get an infection.”

Takashi nods.

When he told them the truth, she asked if the spirits were the reason why he would come home late, his clothes torn and dirty, hiding cuts and bruises. If they were the cause of his frequent fainting spells and fevers. It was an unusually direct question for Touko-san, and it startled him. Not because she asked it, but—

Because he hadn’t realized how much they’d noticed. He’d thought-- Once he gave them a reasonable excuse and apologized, each time, he’d really thought they just forgot about it. It genuinely never occurred to him that they would be keeping track, that they would want the real reason. He’d just wanted to not trouble them.

They didn’t used to say anything about his apparently-not-so-hidden injuries and illnesses. Or they did, but— He always brushed them off. They noticed a limp or bandages peeking out from his clothes and asked if he was hurt, and every time he would insist that he was fine. He was clumsy, he tripped and fell, it was nothing, he’d be all right in the morning. None of the other people he stayed with needed more than that.

He always took care of everything himself, or with Sensei. He treated his own wounds and covered his bruises until they faded. He freed himself from curses and got the antidotes for poisons, sometimes with the help of the very yokai who cursed and poisoned him. The fevers were the hardest thing to hide, sometimes raging for days to the point where the Fujiwaras were ready to take him to the hospital. But fevers were easy to blame on germs, on his weak constitution. And he always recovered eventually.

Shigeru-san puts three cups of tea on the table. Takashi takes his and holds it, and thinks about Shigeru-san’s chamomile tea last night. How safe he felt with him, so safe.

They asked him to not hide his injuries anymore, after he told them the truth. To not hide when he felt ill. He can choose to do whatever he wants, even if it’s dangerous. But he has to let them know when he’s hurt, and he has to let them help him. And he has, and not once have they been angry or tried to make him stop getting involved with yokai, as if he even could.

They haven’t yelled at him or called him a liar or crazy. Their eyes don’t fill with disappointment or disgust when they look at him. He hasn’t stumbled into any hushed conversations about how difficult he is, or overheard phone calls where they beg the next unlucky relative to take away their burden. They don’t send him to school without lunch or to bed without dinner. They don’t—

None of that has happened this time. None of it. It still doesn’t feel real.

Touko-san brings over a tray, and the four of them eat breakfast together. Everything tastes wonderful. Touko-san gives him his wrapped bento and he tucks it into his bag with the Book and his cell phone.

“Don’t forget your omamori,” Touko-san fusses. She takes the protective fabric amulet off the table by the entrance and holds open the loop of cord. Takashi lets her hang it around his neck, then tucks the fabric rectangle under his shirt himself.

He’s not sure his omamori has really helped much, yokai still find him whenever he’s out. But maybe it has, given the relative calm of the past few weeks. Either way he appreciates the effort Natori-san and Tanuma-san continue to make on his behalf. And he wants to be safer if he can be, if only to worry the Fujiwaras less.

He’s glad that there are omamori for the Fujuwaras, too, and for his friends and for Kaname, and ofuda and wards on their homes. Knowing the truth about yokai is dangerous in itself; if something happens to them because of that, when it happens, it will be Takashi’s fault.

They were so happy, when he told them. Not happy that he can see spirits, that he’s in such danger every day that he needs a yokai bodyguard. But happy that he finally felt able to open up to them, trust them with the truth about himself.

Nyanko-sensei hops up onto his shoulder and makes himself comfortable for the walk to school. Takashi slides open the front door. “Ittekimasu,” he calls back. I’m heading out.

“Itterasshai,” Touko-san replies, warmly. Take care.

Chapter Text

Kitamoto and Nishimura are waiting for Takashi at the usual spot along their shared walk to school.

“Hey Natsume,” Kitamoto greets.

“Good morning,” Takashi returns. He glances at their necks, checking for the woven cords of their omamori just under their collars. The sight of them eases him.

“Hey Nyanko-sensei,” Nishimura greets. “Tell me what’s in Natsume’s bento today, I want some.”

Nyanko-sensei scoffs. “Even if you knew, you wouldn’t get a nibble. It’s all mine.” Then he smirks. “And Tanuma’s.”

“Sensei,” Takashi complains, blushing.

“You should be proud,” Nishimura says. “You’re the first one of us to go steady. I can barely get a girl to look at me.” He gives a dramatic sigh.

“You mean you can barely get Taki to look at you,” Kitamoto says, amused. “And now you don’t have the excuse that she’s secretly with Natsume.”

“No, now she’s too busy hanging out with Natori Shuuichi,” Nishimura says, even more dramatically. “How can a normal guy get a shot around here?!”

Takashi smiles even though he feels as though he shouldn’t, out of respect for Nishimura’s wounded heart.

Natori-san has been visiting Taki’s house recently, but only to sort out the chaotic wards her grandfather left behind on her house, and teach her some proper protection spells. When Natori-san found out about her yokai circles he looked like he might actually pass out, but seems to have accepted that Takashi and his friends will get in trouble with or without his involvement, and he might as well give them some basic training.

Takashi offered to pay Natori-san for all his help, but Natori-san absolutely refused a single yen. He said Takashi had helped him for free plenty of times, because they’re friends, and helping each other is what friends do. Natori-san seemed to be a little shocked by the words even as he said them, but then became very determined about helping Takashi within an inch of his life.

”You deserve more protection than an unreliable sake-loving bodyguard and a motley bunch of forest yokai,” Natori-san declared.

Nyanko-sensei took great offense to that accurate description, and the two of them squabbled for a solid ten minutes. Still, so far Nyanko-sensei has given a grudging sniff of approval to Natori-san’s work.

”You could do with bleeding a little less frequently,” Nyanko-sensei admitted. ”I don’t want your blood all over my Book when I get it.”

”Of course, Sensei,” Takashi said. Never mind that the Book is getting rather thin, even with the decrease in name-returning. The yokai who do show up these days tend to come from farther away, as word of the Book’s Names being returned trickles out into the wider yokai world.

He wonders how far Reiko traveled, and how long she continued to collect Names. Despite all the memories he has of her now, from every yokai he returned a Name to, he still knows so little about her life. Only her isolation and her games. He wonders what he’ll find with each remaining Name.

Takashi is mostly sure that the Book is just a pretense now for Nyanko-sensei. He’s mostly sure that even after he gives away the last Name, Sensei will stay with him and protect him until he dies. If the yokai really cared about the Book, he’s had many opportunities to simply take it and leave, and he hasn’t.

Mostly sure. Takashi thinks about his nightmare — the last page, the empty green covers — and his stomach twists uncomfortably.

As they cross a bridge, he looks up at the wide blue sky. The hills are still brown with winter, cut with the evergreen of cedar trees. But spring is around the corner. He breathes in crisp, clean air and tries to leave his fears behind him.

Classes are blissfully mundane. Takashi is wide awake, well-slept and fed, and tries to stay focused and learn. But he watches Nishimura snoring softly in front of him, dozed off from the exhaustion of entrance exams and university applications, and his mind can’t help but wander.

After he told his foster parents and Tanuma-san the truth, they asked him who else knew, and who else should know. They left the decision up to him. Takashi told them about Taki and Natori-san, and even Matoba-san. And when they asked if there was anyone else he was ready to trust—

It had to be Nishimura and Kitamoto. They were the first to befriend him when he came here, even though Takashi had long since given up on making friends. They accepted him despite all his strangeness, and he knows exactly how rare such acceptance is.

He never needed to tell Kaname and Taki. They both found out about his Sight before he met them, through rumors and yokai. It put the two of them in their own special category, along with Natori-san. People Who Already Knew.

It was still hard to open up and trust People Who Already Knew. But it felt as though the worst was already over, and he didn’t even have to say anything. They came to him Knowing and he just had to learn to accept that.

Nishimura and Kitamoto had both had close calls with yokai, and Takashi had secretly protected them both. But they were not People Who Already Knew. And if he told them and they rejected him, turned on him—

If he lost their friendship—

It was like walking right off a cliff, telling them about his Sight. And he knew exactly what the drop off a cliff felt like, and the pain of hitting the ground below. He wanted to tell them alone because at least that way if the worst happened, Kaname and Taki wouldn’t suffer, too. But Kaname and Taki absolutely refused to let him do that. And so they were right beside him as Takashi haltingly explained that the reason why he was so strange, the reason why he saw things that no one else did, the reason why he would get hurt and sick so often—

It was because spirits were real and he could see them.

His mouth was bone-dry as he forced out the words. His heart thrummed like a hummingbird. He stared down at the ground to avoid their eyes, to silently beg their forgiveness. Every cell in his body told him to run now before it was too late, before he had to see their faces twist with anger, before they started throwing rocks at him, or pushed him down, or—

But he was trapped with Kaname and Taki beside him, each with a reassuring hand on his back, and Nyanko-sensei gripped tight in his arms.

“It’s not a joke,” Taki said, firmly. “He really can see them. It’s the truth.”

“You’re serious?” Kitamoto asked, unsure.

“We are,” Kaname said, just as firmly as Taki. “Ponta, show them.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Nyanko-sensei grumbled.

Nishimura and Kitamoto both yelped in surprise.

“Your weird cat just talked!” Nishimura said, gaping. He turned to Kitamoto. “Pinch me or something. Slap me. I was up too late studying for cram school and I’m still asleep.”

Kitamoto reached over and pinched Nishimura hard on the arm.

“Ow,” Nishimura said, and rubbed his arm. “Not that hard.”

“These idiots are boring me,” Nyanko-sensei declared, and wiggled out of Takashi’s arms. “Let’s get to the fun part.”

“Fun part?” Takashi asked, faintly.

And then with a poof, Nyanko-sensei was no longer a cat. He was Reiko.

“You!!” Nishimura and Kitamoto both gasped, absolutely shocked.

Oh. Right. Takashi had actually forgotten about Nyanko-sensei’s little escapade with them. Sensei had shifted into his Reiko form and forced the two of them to treat him to a massive meal and hours at the arcade. Nishimura and Kitamoto had complained for days about the mysterious girl who claimed to be Takashi’s sensei and emptied out their wallets completely.

Nishimura rounded on Takashi, outraged. “Natsume, your weird cat owes me so much money!”

And then somehow, that was all it took. Nishimura and Kitamoto both started laughing.

“I can’t believe you’re like, magic,” Kitamoto said, shaking his head and smiling. “This explains so much.”

“So much,” Nishimura agreed. “I kept hearing you talking to some old guy but every time I caught you, you were alone with your cat. I thought maybe you were like, practicing ventriloquism or something.”

Takashi felt rather faint. “Ventriloquism,” he echoed, with a weak laugh.

“Yeah, you having a magic cat makes way more sense,” Kitamoto declared. He stepped forward and slung an arm over Takashi’s shoulder. “You are gonna tell us everything. You’re gonna explain all the weird stuff. But uh, probably not right now, because you look like you’re gonna pass out. Don’t pass out!”

Somehow, Takashi managed to not pass out.

In truth, the whole thing had been bizarrely easy. They were his friends, and after he told them this big truth about himself they were still his friends. They pestered him with many, many questions, and Takashi did in fact end up paying both of them back on Sensei’s behalf, even though both of them said he didn’t have to.

He wanted to. It felt like the least he could do to make up for lying to them constantly for years.

And he didn’t have to do this big, scary thing alone. They didn’t have to just take him at his word, even though they probably would have. Kaname and Taki stood by him. Sensei made them see it with their own eyes. It was one of the most terrifying, best moments of his entire life.

And now, a few weeks later, Nishimura and Kitamoto have accepted their omamori and ofuda and have mostly finished peppering him with questions. The more urgent matter of university has taken precedence over Takashi’s boring old Sight.

Takashi walked straight off that cliff, and instead of falling, his foot came down on a bridge. And he walked across it to the other side, to solid ground. And it was fine. Everything is fine.

It still doesn’t feel real.

The meet for lunch on the roof, as usual, all six of them. Takashi and Kaname sit close together and share their bentos, including the extra treats Touko-san packed. Nyanko-sensei demands and gets a little of everyone’s meals, even Nishimura’s melon bread. Once Nishimura and Kitamoto learned that Takashi’s weird cat was in fact his life-saving yokai bodyguard, they mustered some grudging respect.

Nishimura and Kitamoto are close together too, poring over their collective cram school notes. Kitamoto’s grades are pretty good, but the pressure for the entrance exam is high. And Takashi kinda thinks the two of them are happier this way, rather than Nishimura suffering alone.

Takashi has always felt a pang of jealousy for their close friendship, the unquestioning trust they have for each other. He also knows it’s probably the main reason they could share that same unquestioning trust with him, and let him be their friend.

But their shared suffering means Takashi hasn’t been able to see them much after school lately. They’ve just been too busy to hang out. At least they still have their morning walks, and lunchtimes, and weekends.

Taki is sending out a flurry of applications, some of them to international schools. She’s so smart and her parents will pay for her to go anywhere she wants. She brought an entire stack of university pamphlets to lunch today, and has them spread around her as she stares at them.

“Narrow it down yet?” Kaname asks her.

“No,” Taki sighs. “My parents want me to go here.” She holds up a pamphlet for a university overseas, where her parents are working. “But I don’t want to leave Japan. I don’t want to leave here.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Kitamoto admits. “My dad needs me. What if something happens to him while I’m gone?”

“I’m getting out of this countryside and you’re coming with me,” Nishimura declares. “I don’t care if we have to drag your entire family there with us!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kitamoto says, but he’s obviously touched.

Takashi hopes they’ll be able to stay together. It seems wrong to break up such a close friendship. Even if it means they leave and he never sees them again. He’s used to goodbyes.

Or he was used to them. They didn’t matter so much when there was barely anyone who wanted to hear him say goodbye to them. When they were pushing him out the doors of their houses, of their schools, as fast as they could.

He just let Nishimura and Kitamoto fully into his life, and a year or so they’ll be gone. It doesn’t feel like any time at all, even though even having a single friend for a year would have been an unthinkable dream before Hitoyoshi.

He’s glad he told them, he doesn’t regret it. But maybe it would have been easier to lose them if he hadn’t.

“Can I see those?” Kaname asks Taki, gesturing at the pamphlets.

“Please, take them,” Taki says. She pulls them into a messy pile and hands the whole thing over. “I’m sick of looking at them. Are you finally thinking about university too?”

“I wasn’t going to,” Kaname admits. “My health was too bad. I couldn’t take someone’s spot only to have to drop out.”

“You haven’t missed class in a while,” Taki says.

“Yeah,” Kaname says, pleased. “And without all those headaches it’s a lot easier to study. My grades are getting better.”

“That’s wonderful!” Taki says, so pleased. “You’d do great in university, I know you would. Is there something you want to study?”

“Probably theology,” Kaname says. “I don’t want to be a monk like my dad. But that whole world is uh, pretty fascinating.” He leans against Takashi, then straightens up, blushing.

“Mmm, I’m sure,” Taki teases. “Actually I’m hoping for theology too. But I don’t know if it will be practical enough for me. I’ve already learned so much from my grandfather’s notes. I want to do something more hands on.” She pauses. “Honestly— What I really want to do is become Natori-san’s apprentice.”

Takashi stares at her, speechless.

“Wow,” Kaname says, impressed. “Do you think he’d let you?”

“Maybe,” Taki says. “My parents will kill me if I don’t get a degree first. But after that, I’ll finally be free to make my own decisions. And I don’t have any Sight, but Natori-san said plenty of exorcists can’t see yokai.”

“Taki,” Takashi starts, not sure what he wants to say. Should he try to talk her out of it? Encourage her? Tell her about how dangerous it is to be an exorcist, and how so many of them hurt yokai?

She knows all that. She faced down a year-long death curse. She knows Matoba-san and all about his clan, and that some of her grandfather’s work is forbidden. Takashi has no doubt that Natori-san has already tried to discourage her from following in his footsteps. But Taki has always made her own decisions. She’s been living alone in that huge house, taking care of herself, fearlessly facing down yokai right by Takashi’s side.

If anyone could handle the exorcist life, and maybe even do it without cruelty, it would be Taki.

“I think you’d be amazing,” he finishes, and is surprised at how proud he feels for her.

“Thank you, Natsume!” Taki says, genuinely happy. “Maybe we could work with Natori-san together?”

“No,” Takashi says, reflexive. “I don’t know,” he says, wanting to soften his answer, to not discourage her. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, you have plenty of time,” Taki says. “But we could both get our degrees and join Natori-san together, it would be so amazing.”

“I’m not—“ Takashi starts, hating this. “I can’t go to university.”

“Why not?” Taki asks.

Takashi stares at her, speechless again. It’s so obvious, he shouldn’t have to explain it.

He’s had plenty of people tell him to plan for something practical, to get a job as soon as possible. That was the best he ever dared to hope for. To live long enough to graduate high school and become an adult who didn’t need to be a burden to anyone. Even getting a job seemed impossible when he had terrible grades and no skills and he couldn’t walk down the street without yokai coming after him for one reason or another.

He dreamed about finding a quiet job and an apartment and just being alone. But that was a dream, because when he actually thought about what would happen to him—

He thought he’d be a missing person file that would never be solved. That no one would want to solve. He had so many nightmares about what he thought would happen to him, just being alive sometimes felt like a dream.

And it almost happened. When the Fujiwaras found him, it was so close to being too late. He was going to let that awful yokai take him. And at the end when he decided to fight after all, and that sealing spell knocked him off the cliff, he went flying through the air and thought—

At least he died free.

And then he hit the ground.

And then somehow, miraculously, he woke up after all, and the Fujiwaras took him home. But that first week at their house, his nightmares were different. He’d died, falling from that cliff, and the Fujiwaras were yokai and they were going to turn on him. He was already dead and they were going to eat him, or torture him, or both.

He woke up screaming that first night, and when Touko-san rushed in to check on him, he screamed at the sight of her. He was so ashamed that for the next week, he snuck out every night after they were asleep, slept a few hours in the nearest shrine so he could wake up screaming without troubling them, and then snuck back in just before dawn.

He vividly remembers the last time he did that. Limping home in the grey light, still injured from his fall, his head throbbing and throat sore, exhausted and delirious. He’d had enough. He’d thought quite seriously that if they really were yokai, he wouldn’t fight this time, wouldn’t run. He’d let them eat him, and all this would finally be over.

“Natsume?” Taki calls, worried.

“Sorry,” Takashi says. Touko-san’s delicious food feels like a rock in his stomach. He forces out a smile, but no one seems convinced.

Nyanko-sensei stares at him with those knowing eyes. Takashi looks away.

“Well, think about it,” Taki says, gently.

Takashi nods. “Excuse me.“

He stands up, wobbling. He somehow makes it down to the nearest bathroom, where he promptly throws up.

He’ll have to— He has to text the Fujiwaras. Tell them he’s sick. But if he takes his hands off the sides of the sink, he thinks he’ll pass out.

The bathroom door swings open. “Takashi,” Kaname says, sounding incredibly worried. Then Kaname’s reflection appears in the mirror, and he looks incredibly worried, but also determined.

“Is it a yokai?” Kaname asks.

Takashi shakes his head.

“Do you need to throw up again?” Kaname asks.

Takashi doesn’t think so. He shakes his head.

“Come on,” Kaname says. He takes Takashi’s arm and pulls it over his shoulder. “I’m taking you to the nurse.”

“Sorry,” Takashi says, ashamed.

Kaname answers that with a soft kiss to Takashi’s head, and helps him walk. Taki meets them at the nurse’s office, with their bags and Nyanko-sensei.

The Book. His cell phone.

“You’ll be late for class,” Kaname tells her.

“I’ll get a note,” Taki says.

Kaname and Taki both wait while the nurse checks Takashi over. Takashi knows there’s nothing for the nurse to find or treat, but goes through the motions. Then, blissfully, he’s told to rest in a dark room while they call his parents.

As soon as the nurse is gone, Kaname and Taki slip inside. Nyanko-sensei’s eyes are luminous in the low light.

“Is it a yokai?” Taki asks.

“No, he’s just being weak,” Nyanko-sensei says gruffly.

“Ponta, don’t be rude,” Kaname chides.

Nyanko-sensei ignores him, leaps out of Taki’s arms, and lands with unnatural lightness on Takashi’s chest. He curls up there and starts purring, a deep rumble that soaks into Takashi’s bones, soothing.

“My bag,” Takashi says, reaching for it.

“It’s right here,” Taki says, placing it on the bed right next to him. He puts a hand on it and wants to cry with relief.

“I’ll stay with you,” Kaname says.

“Just let him sleep,” Nyanko-sensei says.

“I’m staying,” Kaname says, stubborn.

“My cell phone,” Takashi says. “In my bag. Will you—“

“The nurse is already calling them,” Kaname reminds him. But he takes the phone out anyway. He writes the required text message and shows Takashi, who nods his approval to send it.

The rush of relief makes him want to cry again, but he’s too exhausted. Kaname holds his hand, and Nyanko-sensei purrs, and Takashi drifts off to sleep.

He wakes some time later to Shigeru-san’s voice from the room next door. He’s talking to the nurse. Kaname is in there, too, no longer in the chair beside the bed. Takashi can’t make out what they’re saying, but he can guess.

He feels awful. Everything was fine and he just— Fell apart. Awful.

The door opens.

“Takashi?” Shigeru-san calls, gently. “Are you awake?”

Takashi pushes Nyanko-sensei to move off his chest. He sits up, feeling sore and wobbly, but no longer like his insides are trying to become his outsides.

“Sorry for the trouble,” Takashi says.

“It’s no trouble,” Shigeru-san assures him. “Let’s get you home.”

Kaname wants to come with them, but Shigeru-san convinces him to go back to class. Touko-san will be mother-henning enough already, and Takashi needs to rest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kaname tells him. “Call me tonight if you feel up to it, and if you don’t, text me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Takashi accepts.

On the drive home, Shigeru-san says, unprompted, “That boy really cares about you.”

He shouldn’t, Takashi thinks. But Kaname does anyway, and Takashi feels stupidly grateful for it.

He does feel well enough to call Kaname that evening. He doesn’t know what to say, how to explain—

But it’s just like last night with Shigeru-san. Kaname says he doesn’t have to talk about it. They don’t talk about university either, and instead Kaname shares a story about his father’s visit to a nearby temple, and there’s a festival coming up that they should go to, and they both lament at how difficult some of the homework is this year.

They talk about everything and nothing until Takashi nods off and wakes a minute later to Kaname calling his name.

“I’m okay,” Takashi slurs. “Tired.”

“Go sleep,” Kaname tells him. “Rest. Everything’s all right.”

Everything’s all right.

Takashi hangs up the phone, closes his eyes, and sleeps right through to morning.

Chapter Text

Every morning, Kaname opens his eyes and sees the reflection of water rippling on his ceiling, and the shadows of swimming koi. And every morning, he gets up and looks out at a backyard of trees and rocks, and the only water is the dew sparkling on the grass.

He knows what the pond looks like. He saw it with borrowed eyes the first time he was possessed by a yokai. But selfishly, he wants to see it with his own. He wants to see the same world Takashi sees. The invisible world his dad dedicated his life to serving, and Taki studies with such fervor.

This morning, he looks out at the yard and thinks he can almost see it. Maybe it’s wishful thinking or the light playing tricks. But if he concentrates, if he looks from just the right angle—

There! A shimmer in the grass, and another.

He breathes out, feeling absurdly victorious.

He hasn’t mentioned it to Takashi yet, he doesn’t feel ready. But his Sight is definitely improving. The vague shadows that he sees when Takashi meets with a yokai, or when Ponta is in his true form, have been gradually becoming more solid and shaped. Especially, for some reason, when he glimpses them from the corners of his eyes.

He’s been talking to Taki about it, and she’s been digging through her grandfather’s research, and asking Natori-san some indirect questions. Sight can definitely change over time, though it usually gets weaker. For it to strengthen like this would require frequent, close exposure to a powerful source of spiritual energy.

Kaname has three of those in his life.

And it’s not just his Sight that’s changing. The more time he spends with Takashi, the better he feels. He used to be sick all the time, laid out by the slightest hint of yokai presence. His dad tried his best, cleansing every place they lived, but Kaname still had chronic, crippling headaches, and not much hope for his future.

And now the headaches are almost gone. He only feels ill in the presence of powerful, corrupted yokai, and those occasions are thankfully rare despite how Takashi draws all yokai to him like a magnet.

Kaname’s health has never been better. He’s doing so much better at school, but also he’s been able to finally help his dad with temple duties. It feels so good to spend the day on the move instead of lying in his bed in agony. To be able to think clearly all day long.

Ponta told him it’s like how iron filings behave with a magnet. That Takashi is somehow rubbing off on him. Taki thinks maybe it’s Ponta more than Takashi, because Kaname has been around for more than a few of Ponta’s intense flashes of purification, and even got some of them directly. His bouts of possession probably affected him too. Maybe it’s all of it together.

Takashi knows Kaname has been feeling better, healthier. It’s obvious. Kaname even thanked him for it, though he doesn’t think it entirely registered with Takashi how big a gift he gave Kaname and is still giving him. Takashi’s relationship with yokai is too complicated and painful for that.

So Kaname hasn’t pressed him. He’s reserved his enthusiasm on the topic for conversations with his dad and with Taki.

For a while, his dad got very excited about Kaname following in his footsteps and becoming a monk after all. Kaname does believe and worship, even more so now that he knows exactly how real the spiritual world is. But Kaname’s lived like a monk for long enough already. There are so many things he wants to try and explore and experience, now that he actually can.

Like going away to university. Like having a wonderful, complicated boyfriend. He wants to have both together, if he can.

He turns away from the pond and picks up the stack of university pamphlets again. Feeling better is one thing. Being healthy enough for years of intense study and some kind of career is another. Taki is fairly sure that Kaname’s recovery is permanent, but that’s just a guess. And the last thing Kaname wants to do is make Takashi feel like they have to stay together for Kaname’s health. Takashi has too many burdens already for Kaname to make himself another.

And aside from all that, the mere thought of going to university made Takashi physically ill yesterday. As bad as if some evil yokai had attacked him. Kaname sat in that dark room, holding Takashi’s hand while he slept, and thought about nothing but the bleak despair in Takashi’s eyes. The way he went so pale and bolted away to be sick.

He used to see that bleak despair a lot, when he first met Takashi. Takashi tried to hide it behind polite, false smiles, but the more he let his guard down, the more obvious it was. But just as Kaname’s health gradually improved, the despair gradually faded from Takashi’s eyes, replaced by a quiet joy that struck right into Kaname’s heart.

If Kaname took the entrance exam next year, he doubts he would pass. But maybe the year after, if his health stays good and he can handle taking cram school after graduation. A lot of people take an extra year to prepare, or even two. And if he did it with Takashi, like Nishimura and Kitamoto are studying together—

He wants it so much. Even more than he wants to see the yokai koi fish swimming in his backyard. He knows they’re young, but he wants to spend the rest of his life with Takashi, side by side.

He loves him. He hasn’t said it aloud, the words are so big. But it’s how he feels and he won’t deny it.

And he knows Takashi loves him too. Even though when Kaname first told him that he liked him, liked him, Takashi couldn’t believe it and thought Kaname was possessed again. He actually made Ponta purify him even though Ponta told him that Kaname was perfectly fine and just a lovesick idiot.

“But you can’t,” Takashi said.

“Why not?” Kaname asked, trying to be patient and not feel entirely rejected. “It’s okay if you don’t— I just wanted you to know.” His feelings for Takashi had grown and persisted and he had to say something, had to take the risk. He was mostly sure that Takashi like liked him, too, but Takashi was complicated. Takashi had been hurt. A lot.

Takashi looked at him like Kaname was more impossible than any yokai. And through the disbelief in his eyes, there was a glimmer of hope that made Kaname’s heart leap in his chest.

Takashi stared at him, then, studied him intensely. Kaname let him look, didn’t hide how he felt.

“You really…?” Takashi asked, his hope a fragile, delicate thing.

“Yes,” Kaname said, trying to be completely calm and brave.

“Oh,” Takashi said, quietly stunned. And then just quiet, thinking. And then he blushed, looked down, away. Fidgeted.

“If you need time—“ Kaname started.

“No, it’s just—“ Takashi said, and looked painfully awkward.

Ponta gave a long-suffering sigh. “Just tell him you like him too. Ugh, lovesick idiots are the worst.”

Takashi turned absolutely beet red, and Kaname worried he might faint. But then, in a quiet squeak, Takashi said, “Ilikeyoutoo. Sorry.”

Kaname didn’t bother telling him he didn’t need to apologize for returning his feelings. Takashi apologizes like breathing, it’s a natural part of his existence. Kaname knows why he does it, and is privately very mad about it, but right then he just smiled, genuinely happy.

And a genuine smile appeared on Takashi’s face, in response.

They’ve taken it slow since then, almost painfully slow. But Kaname needs slow, too. And every time Takashi shifts a little closer to him, or reaches out and takes his hand, or just looks a little happier and more relaxed, Kaname’s love for him grows that much bigger.

So Kaname knows he’s sunk. He’s all in. If Takashi wants to stay here forever, then they’ll stay. Kaname’s already lived in plenty of places. Hitoyoshi is beautiful, it’s where Takashi feels safe, it’s their home. Kaname can do long-distance learning. They can travel and come home again. He just wants Takashi to smile, and for that awful despair to stay gone from his eyes forever.

With a sigh, he gathers the university pamphlets into a neat stack and sets them aside. He’ll give them back to Taki later.

Chapter Text

To Kaname’s great relief, Takashi texts him that he’ll be back at school today, and they’ll see each other at lunch. Kaname hates that they’re in separate classes at separate ends of the building. He’d take Nishimura’s seat in a heartbeat. But all he can do is keep looking at the same text message and make at least an attempt at grasping the chemistry lesson.

It’s probably just as well that he gives up on university. Even two years of cram school can’t make up for missing a third of his classes and having migraines that made it impossible think for another third, for almost his entire education. His dad always tried to help him make up for it at home, when he was feeling well enough. But Kaname never felt well enough for long enough to keep up.

Actually trying to make an effort now, out of the fog of chronic pain— He feels hideously embarrassed at his ignorance. Frustrated at everything that held him back, worried that even if he’d never had a migraine in his life, maybe he’s just too dumb to learn all this stuff anyway. If Takashi feels even remotely like this, which he probably does, then it’s no wonder the idea of going to university gave him—

Kaname’s not really sure what it was. A panic attack? He’s seen Takashi panicking too many times for his own liking, and it wasn’t that. It definitely wasn’t just embarrassment. Takashi seemed fine, if a little anxious, but that’s his default state. And then he just— Went stiff. Pale and then— That awful despair just came over him and swallowed him up.

Kaname didn’t want to press, on their phone call last night. He wanted to help Takashi feel better, not make it happen again. Asking Takashi about his feelings isn’t easy at the best of times. Not because he doesn’t want to answer, but because— He gets overwhelmed by his feelings so easily. And then he tries to shove them away to make them stop, and pretends everything is fine.

It is, Kaname has to admit, his most frustrating quality. But Takashi has slowly been getting better about it. He doesn’t hide behind fake smiles much anymore. He even shares how he’s feeling voluntarily sometimes, which Kaname does his best to gently encourage. But the big emotions, the really painful stuff—

Takashi’s feelings about his birth parents are so painful that he once was going to just leave his only photo of them lost in the forest. He was going to walk away and smile and pretend everything was fine so he wouldn’t “ruin” everyone else’s day. Kaname is eternally grateful to Ponta for telling him what was happening so he could stop Takashi and drag everyone back to find the photo.

And they did find it, and Takashi was so relieved to have it back.

”Don’t lie if you don’t have to,” Kaname told him.

Kaname feels embarrassed at how forceful he was with Takashi in that moment. But if he hadn’t been— He knows Takashi would have gone back to the forest that night and looked for it alone in the dark, even if it took him hours, even if that meant something ruined the photo or he never found it at all.

Or the emotions might have been so painful that— Maybe he wouldn’t even have been able to do that, and he would have let that important photo disappear forever. Kaname will never regret helping get it back for him.

So whatever it was that affected Takashi yesterday, it was one of the big ones. But somehow related to university? Kaname doesn’t know enough to make any guesses. He knows Takashi has been hurt many times, in many ways, by many people and yokai, but he barely talks about any of it. Kaname’s tempted to go around the problem and ask Ponta or maybe even the Fujiwaras, but that feels like a betrayal of trust. And they might not even know, because Takashi doesn’t talk about his pain to anyone.

If he really is going to share his life with Takashi, if it’s going to work, then somehow that has to change. But Kaname doesn’t know how. Maybe instead of theology, he should start studying psychology.

But really, he just wants to see Takashi.

Finally, it’s lunchtime. Kaname somehow keeps himself from running through the halls to the roof.

And there’s Takashi, already sitting with Taki, while Ponta suffers Taki’s cuddles. He looks better than yesterday — not a high bar — but still tired. And there’s hurt in his eyes.

Kaname is actually relieved. If Takashi isn’t hiding how he’s feeling, maybe he’ll be able to talk about some of it.

But even if he is, now doesn’t seem to be the right time for it. Nishimura and Kitamoto arrive, and they all settle into their usual places. Kaname inches right up alongside Takashi, pauses to make sure he’s okay with their closeness today, and then wraps an arm around Takashi’s back. Takashi leans against him, happy, and Kaname’s love for him grows that little bit more.

Touko-san packed Takashi soup that’s still warm in its insulated container, rice porridge, and a bottle of ginger tea. Nishimura looks longingly at Touko-san’s homemade food as usual, but doesn’t plead for a taste. Ponta takes his usual tithe from everyone but Takashi.

Takashi is quiet, but Kaname is just happy to hold him for a while, and see him eating and looking better. It’s hard to let him go when lunchtime ends. Kaname heads back to class with a deeply-felt sigh.

And then finally school is over, and the school week. He meets up with Takashi, Ponta, and Taki for their walk home together, to hang out at the temple. Taki wants to hold Ponta, and Kaname wants to hold Takashi’s hand, as they usually do. But Takashi holds Ponta close. He only does that when he’s upset.

The forest creeps in around them as they head up the hillside.

“Taki,” Kaname says, remembering. “I wanted to return those pamphlets to you.”

“It’s okay, you can keep them,” Taki says. “I’ve stared at them enough.”

“Oh,” Kaname says. It feels wasteful to just throw them out. “Is it all right if I bring them to school and leave them out for someone else to take?”

“Sure,” Taki says.

“I thought—“ Takashi starts, stops. He frowns. But before he can say anything, he goes still, eyes wide. Ponta’s ear twitches. Kaname feels a presence.

A yokai?

Yes. There it is, a hazy but definite shape coming out of the forest. He can see it!

Based on Takashi and Ponta’s reactions, it doesn’t seem to be hostile. Kaname strains to hear what it’s saying, but only catches a garbled whisper. Sight isn’t just sight. It’s hearing yokai, being able to feel their presence, touch them. Could he touch this yokai, if he tried? Now isn’t a good time to test it. Could he touch the koi pond?

“Not another one,” Ponta complains.

“That’s my grandmother,” Takashi says, tiredly reciting the familiar script. “I’m Natsume Takashi, her grandson. She died a long time ago, I’m sorry.”

It’s a Name, then. And even though Takashi isn’t feeling well, he’s going to return it right away, like always. Kaname hands off his bag to Taki and gets ready to catch Takashi if he passes out, which is likely, and carry him the rest of the way to the temple, which he’ll definitely have to do unless Ponta wants to take him home. Kaname has been carrying plenty of heavy things lately, building up his strength, and Takashi is, for better or worse, one of those heavy things.

Ponta leaps down and watches closely.

Takashi reaches into his bag, but instead of the Book, he pulls out his cell phone. “Hold on,” he tells the yokai. “I have to text my parents first.”

Taki gives a quiet, amused snort. Kaname fights back a smile. He can only imagine the yokai’s expression.

“Okay.” Takashi puts the phone away and takes out the Book. And then, oddly, he stops, staring at it. Keeps staring at it.

Taki and Kaname exchange concerned looks. Is something wrong?

The shadowy yokai moves, says something that Kaname strains for but fails to understand. Whatever it says, it makes Ponta laugh.

“Finally seeing sense?” Ponta says to Takashi, his tone teasing and sly.

“No!” Takashi says, defensive. “I just— Never mind.” He gets a stubborn look, and then— Another flash of that awful despair.

It’s gone as quickly as it came. Or at least it’s been shoved back down where Takashi can ignore it. Kaname mentally files the moment away. Takashi might go around pretending he’s fine, might even believe it. But someone has to pick up the pieces when he falls apart.

Takashi calms himself. He holds the Book out before him and closes his eyes. “One who would protect me, show me your Name.”

There’s something so beautiful about Takashi in these moments. Maybe it’s the way the magic of the Book whips around him, tousling his hair as the pages flip. Maybe it’s the serene expression that comes over him as he ritually removes the page and folds it, puts it between his teeth and blows through it. The ink lifts from the page and into the air, and then dives down into the head of the nebulous yokai.

Kaname rushes forward as Takashi crumples to the ground, and just barely catches him. Kaname makes a mental note to stand a little closer the next time this happens.

Takashi often passes out when he returns the Names. Sometimes he wakes up after only a minute or two, but if it’s a powerful yokai or he’s already tired, it can take a while. Kaname’s developed a sense for these things based on how pale Takashi looks, and this time he just goes right ahead and hauls Takashi up onto his back. Takashi’s head is heavy against his shoulder, but his breathing is steady.

“I think he’s gonna be a while,” he tells Taki.

“That’s okay,” Taki says, with a mix of awe and disappointment. She’s fascinated by the Book, by the whole business of Names, but she was also looking forward to their afternoon together. And it’s the second time in a row that something cut Takashi’s day short. Not exactly unusual, but too much stress can push Takashi right into a fever, yokai involvement or not.

“What was that about?” Kaname asks Ponta. “Why did he stop?”

“Who was the yokai?” Taki asks.

“Ask him,” Ponta says, predictably. “I thought he was going to see sense and keep my Book from getting any thinner. But there goes another page. Typical.”

They walk the rest of the way to the temple. Despite the uphill climb, Kaname is surprised by how much easier it is for him to carry Takashi lately. Not because Takashi’s weight has changed, but because Kaname is that much stronger, healthier. It still shocks him to not feel sick and weak. That was all he knew for so long. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used it.

But this whole incident puts the final nail in the coffin for his university daydream. Kaname might be healthy enough, but Takashi really isn’t. For all that he runs around the mountainside like a goat, chasing yokai, helping them, or running away at top speed, he always pays for his exertion. One misadventure too many and he can be out for days with a fever.

Kaname wishes Takashi would slow down a little. He could have asked the yokai to wait until later to get its Name back. There’s a lot of small things Takashi could do to make his life a lot easier, if he tried. But he doesn’t seem to have the will for it. Kaname is extremely grateful that the Fujiwaras took matters into their own hands and stopped the all-night sake parties the Dog’s Circle liked to hold in Takashi’s bedroom, and the midnight visits in general.

No wonder Takashi used to be even more exhausted. Kaname did not hold back his disappointment with Ponta for letting all that go on for so long. Some bodyguard he is.

As if to prove his point, as soon as they reach the temple and cross the wards, Ponta declares that he needs a drink and takes off into the woods. Probably for a sake party with the Dog’s Circle.

It’s all right. They’ll be safe enough in the temple. And he’s probably due for a break. Sensei might have some blind spots, but he has actually been doing his job properly for the past few weeks. Probably because if he doesn’t, Touko-san will find out and refuse to give him any fried shrimp.

Kaname carries Takashi inside and over to his bed. He lays Takashi down with a practiced release, so that Takashi’s head falls right down onto the pillow. His light hair fans out, covering his face, and Kaname brushes it back behind his ear.

His heart pangs. He just wants to hold Takashi forever.

He sighs and tucks Takashi in, and leaves him to rest. He texts the Fujiwaras so they know Takashi will be sleeping off the Name return, and probably staying overnight.

“You could see it, right?” Taki asks, once they’re away from his bedroom.

“It looked almost solid,” Kaname says, unable to hide his excitement. Glad he doesn’t have to, with her. “I could almost hear it talking.”

It must have been a yokai of decent power, to be so much clearer than the koi pond. And to knock Takashi so solidly out.

“Your Sight’s still getting better. This is fantastic,” Taki says. He can already imagine the flurry of research she’s going to do this weekend. “You know, Natori-san wears glasses to sharpen his Sight.”

“I think Takashi would notice me wearing glasses,” Kaname says, dryly.

“He’s going to find out sooner or later,” Taki says. “He should be happy that you can see what he sees.”

Kaname remembers quite vividly how unhappy Takashi was when the first yokai who possessed him lent him her Sight. And if Kaname told him the full story, that Takashi himself is causing the change— “It’s complicated.”

“What isn’t complicated with Natsume?” Taki says, wryly. “But still. You guys are together all the time. He’s gonna notice. And it’s not like you’re doing it on purpose, it’s just happening.”

“Wearing the glasses would be doing it on purpose,” Kaname points out.

“If wearing fake glasses could let me see yokai, I’d glue them to my face,” Taki declares.

“That sounds uncomfortable.”

“You know what I mean,” Taki huffs. “I spent a year drawing circles on the ground trying to find one yokai. Natsume showed up and saw it right away.”

“And got cursed, too.”

“And saved both of us,” Taki counters. “If you could see yokai better, you could help him, watch his back. He needs more than just Nyanko-sensei.”

Kaname can’t argue with that.

Taki heads home while there’s enough time to get there before sunset. Takashi is still fast asleep, and definitely staying overnight now. Not that Kaname is complaining. He just prefers to have Takashi actually awake when he’s here.

But there’s no point in stewing about it. With his bedroom occupied, he takes a stroll around the temple. While it doesn’t get many guests on an average day, with such a small town and the temple so out of the way, there is evidence that a few visitors stopped by, from the donations left at the main entrance. His dad won’t be back from his latest trip until tomorrow, so Kaname collects the donations and puts them away. He goes to their private kitchen and checks the fridge; there’s leftover rice and vegetarian curry for dinner.

He glances through the windows at the forest beyond. Are the dark shapes he sees yokai or just shadows? He doesn’t feel anything. But he doesn’t think Ponta will be back until morning.

He touches his omamori through his shirt.

Kaname wants to protect Takashi as much as he can. He might not be able to intentionally improve his Sight. But there are other things he can do. Things he learned from his dad, from an entire life spent in temples.

Unlike Takashi, Kaname’s dad wasn’t born with spiritual power. He earned it through his training and practice as a monk. And while it didn’t give him Sight, he has strong powers of purification. It’s how his dad and Takashi first met, when Kaname first moved here and his dad was trying to purify the area on his behalf. Takashi walked right up to him, boldly talking to yokai left and right before he realized his dad couldn’t see them. Kaname wishes he’d been there to see it, but his dad grows more fondly amused by the story every time he tells it.

Nyanko-Sensei and Takashi say Kaname’s dad is protected by a god. An actual god. His dad was quite surprised to learn he’d earned such favor, and while he doesn’t know for sure, he guesses that his protector is Idaten, who guards all Buddhist monks.

Things like this keep Kaname up at night, thinking too much. Does all spiritual power come from gods? Are all the mythologies and pantheons real? Does he have to choose? What if he chooses wrong?

Of course, there are all sorts of gods in Japan, from thousands of years of culture. There are gods of all sizes and strengths, and spirits of everything. Takashi got forced into playing the role of a missing mountain god, and faced off against another mountain god. His boyfriend impersonated a god!

Impossibly powerful and just as reckless, Natori-san said, describing Takashi. Kaname agrees.

Kaname doesn’t need that kind of power. But he does want some. He wants enough to keep his impossibly reckless boyfriend alive and whole. Maybe there isn’t a god strong enough to give him that, but he has to try.

He doesn’t know if Idaten will favor him. He doesn’t want to be a monk. So he does what his dad did, as they traveled from temple to temple. He purifies himself, washing his hands and mouth. He bows his head and prays for divine aid. Not just from Idaten, but from Jizō, who protects the vulnerable. From Kannon, for her great compassion, and Fudō Myōō, to burn away all obstacles to enlightenment.

And because he and his father have always respected Shinto deities as well, he also prays to Izanagi, who stands between the worlds of the living and the dead. To Okuninushi, to help him find a medicine for Takashi’s pain, and to Hachiman, to give him the strength to protect Takashi from all the many things that hurt him.

And for good measure, he thanks Inari, god of rice, for their dinner.

He returns to his bedroom and puts a cushion on the floor beside the low bed as Takashi sleeps on. He assumes the precise meditation position he learned from his dad, from the countless monks he lived with as his dad moved them across Japan, looking for help for his sickly son.

He lowers his eyes and breathes from the center of his belly. He counts his breaths, each inhale and exhale. He sets aside his worries and clears his mind of all thoughts, all judgements. He becomes aware only of the present moment.

Some time later, Takashi finally stirs. He yawns and stretches, and the sounds of him are like drops of water on the still pond of Kaname’s mind. Kaname feels calm, his mind open and relaxed. He unfolds himself, shakes himself loose, re-engages. He doesn’t know if he has any more spiritual power, but he does feel better.

“Where’s Taki? Sensei?” Takashi asks, bleary.

“Home and out drinking,” Kaname says. “How are you feeling?”

Takashi gives a grunt as his answer. He pulls the cover back up and buries his face against the pillow. He breathes in deep, then out.

“Smells nice,” he says.

“Oh yeah?” Kaname says, pleasantly surprised.

Takashi answers with a hum.

Kaname shifts closer. He brushes Takashi’s hair, soothing.

“Sometimes I just wanna stay here,” Takashi says.

“You can always stay here,” Kaname says, happy. “I want you to stay here.”

Takashi peeks up at him, and his eyes are full of meaning, hesitance, want.

Kaname leans down and kisses him. Takashi kisses back, sleep-soft and sweet. Then, tragically, he pulls back and sighs.

“Sorry about today,” Takashi says. “And yesterday. This week was a mess.”

“Yeah,” Kaname agrees. “Wanna talk about any of it?”

Takashi hesitates, then nods. Thinks. Then says, “I want you to go to university.” Before Kaname can respond, Takashi continues. “I want you to go. You should follow your dreams. You should be happy.”

“I am happy,” Kaname says, genuinely. “I’m happy with you.”

Some painful emotion crosses Takashi’s face. Not the despair, but—

“Takashi,” Kaname starts, though he’s not sure what to say.

Takashi shakes his head, ending the conversation before it can even begin. Kaname reminds himself to be patient. He can give Takashi a push sometimes, even a firm one. But now is not one of those times.

“How about I just hold you?” he asks instead.

“Please,” Takashi says, voice tight with unreleased pain.

Kaname’s heart breaks for him. His heart is full of love for a boy who can barely receive any of it. But at least he can do this much. He slides under the cover with him and pulls him close.

“I’ll keep the pamphlets,” Kaname allows. “I’ll look at the options and think about it. But I’m not leaving you behind.”

That seems to be enough for Takashi. He relaxes, wraps his arms around Kaname and clings to him. “Okay,” he murmurs.

Chapter Text

Once Kaname accepts the idea of going to university, and actually starts talking to people about it, it’s like a whole machinery picks him up and starts moving him along. Of course he’ll go. Of course he’ll take some extra time for his entrance exams, to catch up on what he missed because of his health. Theology sounds perfect for him. It’s all going to be wonderful.

Everyone is eager to give him advice, study tips, encouragement. After a lifetime of having no expectations from anyone beyond being less sick, it’s all rather overwhelming.

So Takashi, and his absolute avoidance of the entire concept of university, ends up being Kaname’s refuge. They talk about everything else. They take long, romantic walks, only sometimes interrupted by yokai. They struggle with their homework together. They have dinner with the Fujiwaras. Sometimes his dad joins them, and the six of them together feels so right.

Takashi’s yokai life continues to be relatively uneventful, even if uneventful still includes things like him getting snatched right off the road and pulled up into a tree and lightly strangled. Things like that continue to give Kaname minor heart attacks, but once Takashi has punched his way free, or Ponta has chased the thing off or purified it, Takashi always just— Stands up, brushes himself off, and keeps going like it didn’t even happen.

Kaname asks his dad and Natori-san and Ponta why the omamori aren’t protecting Takashi the way they’re protecting everyone else. When yokai attack Takashi, they leave Kaname alone, even when they realize he can see them.

And the unfortunate answer is the omamori are protecting him. This is pretty much the best case scenario, because Takashi is so overflowing with spiritual power that some yokai will push through strong protections to get to him.

His dad said it was like trying to keep squirrels away from a pile of birdseed. Giant supernatural squirrels with massive claws.

Kaname thinks he gets it now. He understands better how Takashi works, how he deals with and survives his life. Why he tries so hard to ignore his pain and pretend everything is fine.

Because yokai aren’t going to stop coming for him. And if he doesn’t want to just be miserable all the time, if he doesn’t want everyone around him to be miserable, then the best thing to do is just swallow all of it and smile. Especially when for most of his life he had no one to turn to, no one to believe him, and any attempt to ask for help only made things worse, made him more isolated and abused.

Kaname understands why Takashi ended up this way. But he can’t believe there isn’t an answer, a solution. He doesn’t tell Takashi that, obviously. But he asks Taki to see what she can find in her research. He asks Natori-san to look for options. Takashi might not know how to ask for help, but Kaname does, and he’ll push Takashi to accept that help once he finds it. And he’s going to find it.

But for now, Takashi is right. Despite how much better things are now that Takashi has people he can trust, now that he doesn’t have to lie, now that he has at least some degree of safety and protection and stability. It’s still not enough. He can barely manage high school. And after that? Kaname isn’t planning on going anywhere for a while but he still worries. Even once the Book runs out of Names and that burden is lifted — which can’t come soon enough — then what?

Kaname knows exactly what it’s like to not expect to have a future. To know the misery is permanent and try to live around it. But Takashi miraculously saved him. Takashi deserves a miracle too.

But until a miracle pops its head up, Kaname looks for practical solutions to their more mundane problems. Like which university he should attend. Assuming he passes his entrance exam, of course, and gets accepted, neither of which are guaranteed.

At least he’s decided firmly on theology for his studies. The more he learns, the more he wants to learn. He knows the human side of worship, but he wants to understand the other side, and how both interact. Only in part because his boyfriend is stuck right in the middle of it all.

Realistically, he knows theology classes will only give him some of what he’s looking for. His professors likely won’t know that gods are actually real, that spirits are real. Even if they worship, it’s one thing to believe and another to know. Like Taki, his best source for what he needs to find is probably the exorcist community, despite its flaws.

He knows Takashi would panic at the thought of Kaname getting anywhere near Matoba-san. But the Matoba clan must have so much knowledge and experience, being so long-lived and powerful. There are probably other exorcists elsewhere in Japan that know even more and don’t have a curse hanging over them. But Matoba-san is close by, and right now proximity to Hitoyoshi is what matters most.

Which is why, as winter turns to spring, Kaname finds himself taking the early train to Kumamoto on a Saturday morning, his bag full of university pamphlets and printouts. There are several universities in the city, and he’s made appointments with the theology departments at three of them.

He’s looked at the options. It’s a two hour train ride from Hitoyoshi to the city center. There’s affordable student housing. There’s an abundance of temples and shrines.

When he asked Takashi if he could borrow his map, since Natori-san’s apartment is in the Kumamoto area and Takashi visits there with some frequency, Kaname got one that was large, well-used, and very well-marked.

Every single shrine on the map was carefully circled. There were even shrines that had been added by hand, that the map makers hadn’t bothered to include but Takashi certainly thought important.

“You marked all the shrines?” Kaname asked, surprised.

“Ah yeah,” Takashi admitted, embarrassed. “Just in case. You know. If something happened. Old habits. I haven’t needed to hide in a shrine in a while.” He gave a fake smile and a fake laugh, as if it was all just a silly joke.

Kaname didn’t find it funny, but he smiled back anyway.

It’s too easy to imagine a younger Takashi running desperately for the safety of the nearest shrine. Far too easy, after Takashi’s run-in with the Days Eater. Kaname won’t ever forget that. As a child, Takashi was so serious and afraid, flinching at everything. Unable to believe that his grown-up self could be happy and loved. Afraid of getting back all the painful memories the Days Eater took away.

Ponta might have his flaws, but the more Kaname learns, the more he appreciates how much the yokai bodyguard genuinely saved Takashi’s life and sanity, just as the Fujiwaras did. Kaname’s been slipping Ponta extra treats, much to the yokai’s delight.

Ponta recently told him that he’s shaping up to be a tolerable servant, which Kaname took as the highest praise.

He glances over at Ponta, who’s dozing on Takashi’s lap. Takashi has been staring distantly at the scenery as it rolls past their window, still groggy from the early wake-up. But when Kaname touches his arm, Takashi turns to face him, and his eyes focus, and he gives a smile.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Kaname tells him. He takes Takashi’s hand, holds it. “We’ll check out the schools. Have lunch with Natori-san. Then we’ll do some sightseeing. Maybe the castle?”

There’s a grand castle at the center of Kumamoto, and it’s walking distance from the cluster of universities. All the university pamphlets boast about it.

Takashi goes still in a very particular way.

Kaname glances around the train. There are a few yokai on board, but they’ve been minding their own business the whole time, using the train just like everyone else.

Kaname doesn’t have to look out of the corners of his eyes to see them anymore. He can see the pond outside his bedroom. He can see the fish swimming. They’re still shadowy, lacking color. But when he puts on the glasses Taki secretly gave him — practically forced on him — the koi are a very faint red.

He’s somehow managed to keep Takashi from finding out. It helps that when there are yokai around, Takashi is always far too busy dealing with them to notice much else. And since Kaname could already see and sense yokai somewhat even before they met, Takashi expects him to react to them, just as he expects Taki to look around at nothing with confusion.

The other day, Kaname put his hand into the pond and felt the water. A yokai koi brushed along his fingers. He threw in some pieces of bread and the koi ate the bread.

He knows he has to tell Takashi. He’s going to. He just needs the right moment.

He doesn’t know how much better his Sight will get, if yokai will ever be as fully real to him as they are to Takashi. According to Taki, almost no one has Sight as good as Takashi’s. When yokai or spiritual objects enter their life, it’s down to a coin flip if Takashi recognizes them for what they are, at least at first glance. The spirit and mundane worlds are one and the same.

Kaname thinks his own current level is close to his ideal. Yokai are real enough to be seen and touched, but it’s obvious that they’re yokai. He wouldn’t mind them being a little clearer and in color, especially so he can read their expressions better. But right now he can easily avoid accidentally engaging with them when he shouldn’t, a luxury Takashi doesn’t have.

So whatever is making Takashi tense up, it’s not the passengers. So then—

“You don’t want to go to the castle?” Kaname asks.

“I do,” Takashi says, and means it. “It’s just— It was in the memory. From that snake yokai I returned the Name for. Shisha.”

Kaname hadn’t been able to see that it was a human-like yokai with a snake head at the time. It was just a shadowy figure. Kaname asked Takashi about it over dinner that evening, but Takashi would only tell him the bare minimum, and assure him that the yokai had left peacefully and wouldn’t trouble them again. Takashi was still recovering, then, so Kaname hadn’t pressed him.

But then Taki quizzed Takashi about the whole thing over lunch the following Monday and got so much more out of him. Somehow she’s able to get Takashi to open up about yokai more than he does with anyone but Ponta, and Kaname’s still trying to figure out how she does it.

Kaname has half a mind to forget about Hitoyoshi and just drag Takashi, Ponta, and the Fujiwaras all with him to anywhere Taki goes.

“Reiko was there, at the castle,” Takashi continues. “She wasn’t wearing her school uniform. She was older. In her twenties. I’ve never seen her that old. And she died young so— I thought maybe—“

Kaname knows how important Reiko is to Takashi. Takashi has even talked about it with him, a little. How he tries to understand his grandmother and her choices, using the memories of her he gets from the yokai.

“Of course,” Kaname says, warmly. He gives Takashi’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s go there, take a look around. See what we can find out.”

“Thank you,” Takashi says, happy. And for the first time all morning, he looks excited to be going to Kumamoto.

Chapter Text

As they exit the train, Takashi braces himself.

He rarely has trouble on the train itself, coming into the city. The yokai he sees are there for the same reason he is, to reach their destinations. Sometimes, when it takes him too long to realize they’re not human, he chats with them about their plans. They’re going to a festival, or visiting a friend, or going on an important errand.

And then he notices the confused glances from the other passengers nearby, or worse, concerned and uncomfortable ones. And he feels that familiar vertigo come over him, as he realizes with dismay that he got it wrong again.

It must be his own fault, somehow. Even though he always thinks they’re human. He should end up chatting with actual humans more often, if only because there’s more of them. But he doesn’t.

He’s asked Nyanko-sensei to warn him when he gets confused. And Sensei does, sometimes. Except when he’s asleep or distracted, or forgets, or just thinks it’s funny, watching Takashi make a fool of himself yet again.

Takashi prefers to be around the less human-looking yokai, generally, because of all that. The stranger the better. He makes fewer mistakes with them. They tend to be a lot rougher with him, but he’d rather have a few extra scrapes and bruises than—

He shakes himself from his thoughts and pulls Sensei closer against his chest. There are always yokai everywhere, but in Hitoyoshi they tend to stay away from the town center, and keep to the forests that surround it, drawn to the power of wild nature.

But in cities like this it’s the opposite. The yokai here are drawn to the power of humanity itself, the noisy crowds, the abundant food, money and valuable objects accidentally dropped on the streets, and plentiful vulnerable prey. The more people there are, the more yokai there are. The harder it is for Takashi to avoid making a fool of himself, or drawing the wrong kind of attention.

And Kumamoto Station is bustling.

Even Kaname seems affected by it, tense beside him, a protective hand already on his back. Kaname can’t see more than shadows, but he can feel the presence of yokai, and in such a crowd even that must be overwhelming for him.

“Wow,” Kaname says, voice tight. Takashi glances over and sees Kaname looking around them, wide-eyed. Probably straining to make out as much as he can, to find where the dangers are, even though they’re everywhere.

“Let’s go,” Takashi says, and leads them towards the exit. Even with the omamori, he won’t risk Kaname getting hurt here. There’s a shrine just a few blocks away, in the direction of the first university they’re visiting. He already found all the shrines along their route, memorized them, staring at his map of Kumamoto last night in preparation.

He stayed up too late doing that, but he couldn’t sleep until he knew it all by heart. There usually isn’t much time to think when he’s running. The map could get lost or torn. There’s lots of things that can go wrong, so many things. But at least he knows the shrines.

He doesn’t stop until they’re through the red torii gates of the shrine, until they cross the purification barrier that protects it. Nyanko-sensei squirms to get free, and Takashi realizes he’s holding the yokai very tightly with one arm, and gripping Kaname’s hand with the other. He lets both of them go, then bows, belatedly, in thanks for the protection.

The shrine is quiet, small, calm. He can just make out someone through the windows, sitting inside the building, reading. People and yokai walk past the gates. No one pays them any mind.

He may have overreacted a little. “Sorry,” he says, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” Kaname says, still wide-eyed. Then he shakes himself, looks at his watch. “We can take a few minutes, but—“ He pauses, frowns. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think— Don’t you come to this area a lot?”

“Natori-san’s apartment is in a quieter part of the city,” Takashi explains. He’s already found the safest routes to use there. Natori-san installed plenty of strategic protections for himself and Takashi. And between the efforts of Nyanko-sensei and Natori-san and his shiki, the local yokai have mostly learned to leave him alone.

Takashi knows the shrine locations here, but that’s all. He doesn’t have any safe routes. And all he is to the city’s yokai is fresh prey.

Kaname looks back out through the red torii and gives a frustrated sigh.

Takashi’s heart sinks. They just got here and he’s already ruining everything.

“I didn’t—“ Kaname starts, looking at him again, upset. “Maybe we should go back? Or can you stay here for a while? It’s just a few hours, then we can go right home, skip the rest. Maybe there’s another shrine, something nicer—“

“Bah!” Nyanko-sensei says, disgusted. And then with a poof, he’s standing there in his Reiko form.

“Sensei!” Takashi chides, afraid someone saw the transformation. But when he looks around, no one is staring at them. No one is looking.

“Easier to keep the small fry in line like this,” Sensei declares. “They can better gaze upon my majesty.” A sense of raw power begins radiating out of him, and a yokai blithely passing on the street by suddenly pales and rushes away.

“Thank you, Ponta. Uh. Sensei,” Kaname says. Probably realizing how strange it feels to address the yokai as if he were a cat, when he looks like this. Takashi feels the same way.

“Finally, some respect from my newest servant,” Sensei declares. He boldly points his finger at the gates. “To the university!”

Takashi manages to put a coin in the donation box as they go.

The rest of the way is shockingly uneventful. The yokai around them feel Sensei’s power and give them a wide berth. They hop on a bus and all the yokai on it quickly hurry off. Takashi apologizes to them under his breath for causing so much trouble, when the yokai were probably just running errands or going to visit friends.

They reach their destination unharmed and unbothered.

The raw power cuts off, and Sensei groans, wipes his brow. It’s obviously taken effort to escort them like this, even with a break on the human-only bus.

“You’re buying me so much lunch,” Sense tells them.

“Thank you, Sensei,” Kaname says, with a grateful bow. “Whatever you want.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Takashi warns him. Sensei can empty any wallet with that bottomless stomach.

“Too late,” Sensei smirks.

“Worth it,” Kaname says, unbothered. He digs into his bag and pulls out some papers, tries to get oriented. Takashi steps closer and looks at the printed map with him.

The university campus is big, a sprawling complex of buildings and facilities, a city of its own inside Kumamoto. Despite the cool weather, the campus bustles with students and other humans, and of course plenty of yokai. Sensei eyes them, warning, but holds off on the mass intimidation for now.

Takashi isn’t sure if the people who look human are intimidated because they’re yokai who can feel Sensei’s power, or if they’re humans who are terrified of Reiko’s glare. Though the yokai are probably also terrified of Reiko’s glare. In the memories of her he has from returning Names, Reiko is intimidating to everyone. Especially if she has her baseball bat.

They navigate along the walkways, passing neatly manicured trees and shrubs, bicycle racks, notice boards filled with flyers and posters.

They enter a building that looks like a lot of other buildings, and walk through the halls. Takashi peers into classrooms and offices, sees the people there. Some look happy, some stressed. Most are focused, working.

He tries to imagine himself among them. It feels absolutely impossible.

They reach what they’re fairly sure is the right place and Kaname introduces himself, tells them he has an appointment. He’s meeting with a member of the theology faculty, to ask them about the program and what he could learn there, what it would take for him to study there.

Kaname invites him to come along, but Takashi declines. He’s already feeling tired from the stress of getting here, from his late night of tense preparation. Kaname’s gently disappointed, but is excited for the meeting and says he won’t be long.

Takashi and Sensei find a pair of empty chairs by the wall and sit. After about five minutes, Sensei stands up and holds out his hand.

“Give me money. I’m getting a drink.”

Takashi gives him some money.

Theology. Going to a place like this to learn about gods seems funny to Takashi, when he could simply take a five minute walk in any direction, bodyguard-free, and end up entangled with any number of powerful spirits. If Kaname wants to know something about a god, Takashi could probably just ask around and find the god in question, so Kaname could ask it directly.

Not that he would. He’s still trying very hard to keep Kaname away from the yokai side of his life, even though Kaname says he wants to be part of it. Takashi wouldn’t even share as much as he does if not for the fact that the omamori actually work for Kaname.

At least so far. Not that he wants to put it to a real test.

Kaname wanting to study theology is worrying, even though it just means looking at a bunch of books with other humans. But when Takashi allowed himself to express the tiniest amount of his discomfort, Kaname reasonably said that he’s the son of a monk, he’s been immersed in religion his entire life, and he just wants to understand it better.

Takashi had no way to argue with that. Not without expressing more discomfort, and ultimately keeping Kaname from something that clearly makes him happy. So here he is, sitting in a university building while Kaname has an interview that might determine the rest of his life.

Takashi is happy for him. He is very firmly happy for Kaname. Kaname deserves every wonderful thing he could possibly ever want. Takashi is very, very glad that Kaname is feeling so much healthier these days, that he doesn’t have those awful migraines anymore. There’s a lively flush to his cheeks that makes Takashi’s heart flutter.

Kaname thinks somehow Takashi made him feel better, but Takashi doubts that. It must be Hitoyoshi that did it. It’s just that kind of place. It must be magic, somehow. Not because of the yokai, there are yokai everywhere. But because the people there are so kind.

He never wants to leave. He’s managed, somehow, to find an actual home there, with humans and yokai. He can’t imagine getting that lucky a second time. To want anything more would just be greedy. He shouldn’t even have what he already has.

He puts his hand on his bag, over the Book inside. His cell phone, fully charged. He reaches in and takes out the phone, texts the Fujiwaras to let them know that they made it to the first university appointment safely. Touko-san sends back a heart emoji, just as she did for his texts about arriving at Kumamoto Station, and Hitoyoshi Station. And Shigeru-san sent him heart emojis yesterday for coming home safely, for leaving the Dog’s Circle, for going to the Dog’s Circle, for leaving school—

He stares at the heart emojis for a while. Then puts the phone back into his bag, next to the Book.

He has to repay their kindness somehow, make up for all the trouble he’s causing them. But he doesn’t know what else to do. He helps out as much as he can. He tries to do his homework, pass his tests, stay awake in class. He runs errands for them, but even being trusted with errands still feels like something he has to repay.

He tries to not have nightmares. He tries to not get hurt. To give them no reason to worry. All he does is fail.

He doesn’t know how to stop taking so much from them. He doesn’t know how to make them stop giving him even more. There has to be a breaking point. There has to be a moment when he’s too much. There has always been that moment, when all that he owes comes due.

He knows he’ll lose Hitoyoshi someday. He owes it too much. He’s taken too much. But he’s trying to hold on to it for as long as he can.

Sensei comes back with two drinks, and Takashi takes all his pain and packs it neatly away in the cardboard box inside his heart. It’s getting harder to fit it all inside. Is there more? He’s so happy these days, he doesn’t know why there would be more.

Sensei stares at him with those knowing eyes. Takashi smiles and accepts the drink.

“Idiot,” Sensei says, and sits down with a thump.

“Yes, Sensei,” Takashi agrees.

Chapter Text

Kaname seems both happy and thoughtful as they leave the first university and head towards the second, with Sensei again clearing the way. Thankfully the universities are all close together, so they won’t have to travel far.

“Did you like it?” Takashi asks.

“Oh, definitely,” Kaname says. “It’s a national university so there’s lots of resources and connections to other universities. They’re affiliated with some temples that my dad and I actually stayed at years ago. They think I might qualify for a scholarship, since dad’s a monk.”

“Wow,” Takashi says, impressed. It does sound amazing. And he’s very glad about the scholarship, since Kaname and his dad are basically dependent on the donations the temple gets. Takashi would feel bad for eating so much of their food — and for Sensei eating even more — except that the Fujiwaras probably donated most of the raw ingredients anyway. And some of the cooked ones.

Another thing he owes them.

“The next place is supposed to be the best in the area, though,” Kaname continues. “I probably can’t get in, and I probably couldn’t afford it even with a scholarship. But I wanted to at least have gone to see it.”

Takashi thinks about the money he has in his bank account. Some of it is from the reward he earned helping Natori-san capture that yokai that was eating shikis, at Takashi’s first-ever exorcist meeting. Takashi wouldn’t have accepted it, but Sensei already accepted on his behalf, and it would have been rude to refuse it after that, and also Sensei would never have let him hear the end of it.

Takashi has managed to politely decline any other such generosity from Natori-san. He hardly does anything to earn it anyway, aside from lure yokai to him like a magnet, and lend his power to a few spells. Most of the time, he’s trying to talk Natori-san out of exorcising the yokai he was sent there to handle in the first place.

The rest of the money is from the sale of his parents’ house. After he got back from seeing it one last time, Shigeru-san gently insisted that he help Tachibana-san with the finances. Takashi had expected that everything would go to his relatives, to pay them back for taking care of the house, and for taking care of him for all these years. But somehow he ended up with almost all the money from the sale. And again, it was too late for Takashi to refuse it.

So maybe, if this is the place Kaname really wants to go, Takashi will give him whatever it costs. Even if that’s all of it. He doesn’t need the money anyway, except when his allowance doesn’t stretch enough for all of Sensei’s demands for manju.

He would have already given all of it to the Fujiwaras if he thought they’d let him.

“Would you mind if we wait outside this time?” Takashi asks, when they reach their next destination. The chill of early morning has eased from the bright sunshine, and there’s a garden on the campus that he’d like to see.

And he doesn’t really want to go inside.

“Of course,” Kaname says, after Takashi points out the garden. “I’ll meet you there when I’m done. Sensei, make sure no one bothers him.”

“Bah!” Sensei says. “As if I’d let some weakling get at my snack.”

“Sensei,” Takashi protests, blushing. It sounds a lot different when he says things like that when he looks like Reiko.

Kaname just laughs. And Takashi finds himself laughing, too.

The garden is lovely, with a path lined with cherry trees covered in swelling buds. White and purple crocuses dot the grass, and cheerful daffodils bask in the sunshine. He and Sensei find a bench and watch a caretaker rake a fresh pattern into the gravel of the Zen garden, waves rippling out from the island stones.

If Kaname came here— Could Takashi come with him? Not to attend, obviously, but to live together. Could he actually be lucky enough to make a second home, by using a piece of his first?

Kaname’s talked about the idea, in gentle suggestions. How nice it would be to go back to Hitoyoshi for weekends and vacations. How the Fujiwaras would love to come visit them and spend time with them in the city. It honestly does sound wonderful.

As much as he instinctively wants it to be impossible, to be as firmly ruled out as attending university, he can’t quite force himself to do it.

“If you’re going to mope all day, I want manju,” Sensei declares. “Even more manju.”

“I’m not moping,” Takashi lies. So what if he is? He deserves a good mope sometimes, he’s earned it.

“Keep it moving, buddy,” Sensei warns, as a bird yokai wanders by. It chirps in alarm and quickly waddles away.

“I think we’re safe here,” Takashi offers, feeling bad for the bird yokai.

“Bah!” Sensei scoffs. “If I turn my back for a second you’ll be dragged off by a pack of hungry yokai. Half the city got a sniff of you already. If they weren’t so terrified of my majestic power, you’d be a goner.”

“Wonderful,” Takashi sighs. And that’s the reason why him living here is impossible. It’s one thing for Sensei to keep the Hitoyoshi yokai in line, or the area around Natori-san’s apartment building. A city like this, with so many yokai constantly coming and going? No, it’s just not practical.

Takashi lived in a few cities when he was younger. The relatives he stayed with there were the fastest to kick him out. His experiences there were— Not ones he likes to remember. But he spent a lot of his time in shrines, wondering how was going to finish walking to school, or if he was going to get home before dark. Or ever.

Sensei’s right, he’s been moping too much today and even he’s sick of it. Today is for Kaname, and Takashi is going to be happy for him if it kills him.

“I need a walk.” Takashi stands up and just heads in a direction. A walk will clear his head.

Sensei hops to his feet and strides along with him.

This university is a lot smaller than the other one, so their walk quickly brings them back to the city streets. Takashi glances at his watch. They still have plenty of time before Kaname is done, but he doesn’t want to wander too far. He pulls out his map and finds where they are, checks the nearby shrines. A river is nearby, with a large park. But Sensei is right and he shouldn’t push his luck wandering around. So he spends some time browsing the nearest shops, looking for gifts to bring back to the Fujiwaras and his friends.

He buys three dango, a local version of the dumplings filled with sweet potato and red bean paste. Sensei eats his right away, but Takashi saves his to eat with Kaname. And he finds a cute little stuffed bear, the Kumamoto mascot, and gets that for Taki. He thinks maybe the castle gift shop will have something suitable for Touko-san and Shigeru-san.

They’re just heading back when a sound stops him. Someone crying?

“Sensei?” Takashi asks, listening. The sound seems to be coming from a narrow alley between two shops. “Is there something dangerous in there?”

“Just small fry,” Sensei says, though his definition of small fry can include some rather large fry, in Takashi’s experience.

A yokai, then? One that’s hurt?

He feels bad about needing Sensei to scare all of them so much. Most of them are harmless, really. He didn’t know that when he was little, but he does now. The problem is that it’s difficult to tell which ones are harmless and which ones are seconds away from trying to eat him, until it’s too late.

He’s seen the inside of yokai mouths too many times for his liking, not even counting the many times Sensei has had to carry him to safety in his jaws. Takashi has not infrequent nightmares about giant teeth and tongues, and does not want to add to them.

Despite all that, Takashi braces himself and walks into the alley. “Hello?” he calls. “Are you hurt? I just want to help.”

At first he thinks it’s a kappa, like the ones in Hitoyoshi. It’s the size of a child, green and aquatic-looking. But it has a rather fierce looking face, like a tiger, and tiger-like claws growing out of its kneecaps.

It is hurt, its foot bleeding rather badly. When it sees him, it bares its teeth at him. But Takashi can see that it’s just afraid.

“Are you really going to bother with that thing?” Sensei asks, impatient.

“It can’t walk,” Takashi points out. “If we leave it like this, it might be eaten.”

“It’s weak,” Sensei says, unmoved. “If no one else eats it soon, I’ll do it myself.”

The yokai starts trembling, and hissing in fear.

“Sensei,” Takashi chides. “Stop scaring it more.”

“We’re already late,” Sensei points out.

Takashi reaches into his bag and tosses Sensei his cell phone. “Text him. He can meet us here.”

Sensei gives him a look of disbelief. “This is what I get for having opposable thumbs,” he mutters.

The yokai looks so afraid. Takashi realizes at least part of the problem, and takes off his omamori, tucks it into his bag. He always has to take it off when he’s with his yokai friends or it bothers them, makes them uncomfortable. Sensei usually mutters something about Takashi making his job harder with all that, but Takashi knows he’s safe with his friends.

Takashi reaches into his bag again and takes out his dango. He shows it to the yokai. “Would you like to try this? The shop keeper said it’s delicious.” He breaks off a piece and tosses it gently onto the ground next to the yokai.

The yokai is more relaxed without the omamori. It stops hissing and stares at them, uncertain. It must be very hungry, because it snatches up the piece, sniffs it, then scarfs it down.

“You liked that,” Takashi says, smiling at it. “Would you like some more? I’ll give it to you if you let me take a look at your foot. I promise I won’t hurt it.”

The yokai eyes the dango, then Sensei, then Takashi again. “Okay,” it says, in a small, reedy voice.

“Thank you,” Takashi says, genuinely. Keeping his posture open and relaxed. “Here you go.” He holds out the remaining dango, and the yokai reaches out, snatches it. There are webs between its fingers. “Did you come from the river?”

The yokai nods. “I smelled something good. But I hurt my foot. I can’t walk back.”

“Did you step on something?” Takashi asks. He slowly reaches for the bleeding foot, and the yokai lets him take it. “Oh, I see.” There’s a sharp piece of glass sticking out of its sole. “How about I take that out? And then you can get home.”

The yokai looks at him with scared, hopeful eyes.

Takashi pulls the small first aid kit from the bottom of his bag, another gift from the Fujiwaras. He takes out bandages, antiseptic wipes, cotton pads, a pair of tweezers. He carefully coaxes the glass shard out of the yokai’s foot and puts it aside. Then he wipes away the blood, treats the wound. Wraps the foot with the bandage and secures it.

“There, how’s that feel? Better?” Takashi asks.

The yokai pushes itself up and puts weight on the injured foot. It winces but looks relieved. “I can walk! I can get home!”

“That’s wonderful,” Takashi says, happy. “Can you get there yourself or do you need help?”

The yokai tests its foot again. “I’ll be okay. Thank you.” It bows to him, grateful, and then limps off down the alley, eager to return to the river.

Takashi carefully wraps the glass shard in the refuse and stands, tosses it into a nearby trash bin. When he turns, Kaname is standing there, and the expression on his face—

“Uh, how was the meeting?” Takashi asks, blushing. “We, uh, went shopping. There was a yokai.”

“I saw,” Kaname says.

His expression hasn’t changed. It’s hard for Takashi to even look at it, the way it makes his heart ache and his stomach fill with butterflies. He can’t even begin to understand how Kaname can look at him like that. Like Takashi is— Like he’s—

Something wonderful. Precious. Loved.

“I got you a dango,” Takashi says, grasping for a lifeline.

“The one you just gave away?” Kaname asks, gently teasing.

“Ah, that was mine,” Takashi admits. He reaches into his bag and takes out the last dango. Holds it out.

Kaname takes the dango and breaks it in half. Offers back half. Takashi takes it. It’s delicious.

“Put it back on, idiot,” Sensei says.

Takashi startles. “Oh. Sorry.” He takes the omamori back out, pulls it back on, tucks it back under his shirt.

Kaname looks like he’s going to say something about the omamori being off, but then doesn’t, to Takashi’s relief.

Takashi realizes that it probably looked funny for Kaname to see him bandaging a shadow. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes.

Kaname ignores the apology. He gives Takashi another doting smile. “Want to get another dango?”

Takashi finds himself smiling back. “Yeah.”

They split their second dango on the way to the third and final university. The last one is the prefectural university, not as big as the national one but bigger than the private one. It’s a former women’s university that went co-ed some years back.

As they reach it, Takashi’s lack of sleep the night before finally catches up to him. He yawns widely, covering his mouth.

“Maybe you should take a nap while I’m in there,” Kaname offers. “Then you’ll be rested for lunch with Natori-san.”

“Good idea,” Takashi says. His eyes are already trying to fall shut. Sometimes he just gets so tired all of a sudden that he can fall asleep anywhere, whether he wants to or not. But he’s not in Hitoyoshi, so he can’t sleep in the safety his own home, or Kaname’s, or Taki or Kitamoto or Nishimira’s, or even at his school desk.

“A shrine?” he offers, trying to remember the closest one. Will they let him nap there? Most of the shrines around Hitoyoshi are easy for him to rest in, cared for but mostly left alone, or abandoned but usable. But city shrines usually have people in them, caretakers, visitors. If he stays too long, or acts too strange, or they find him hiding in some corner, asleep—

“I’ve got him,” Sensei says, taking Takashi by the wrist. He holds up Takashi’s cell phone in his other hand. “I’ll text you.” Then he shakes his head and mutters, “Kids these days.”

“Sensei,” Takashi says, as Sensei drags him along. “I need my phone back.” He doesn’t like it to be out of reach.

But Sensei holds on to it and keeps dragging him along, and Takashi struggles to not simply pass out in the middle of the street. And then there’s another red torii gate, and a few steps later they’re in the shrine.

It’s small, quiet, and there’s a sign on the door that says the caretaker is away. There’s a bench tucked to one side, just enough out of the way to be overlooked by anyone passing by. It’s exactly what he needed and perfect for a nap.

“Did you look at the map?” Takashi asks, wondering how Sensei knew this was here.

But Sensei just drags him over to the bench and sits. Pushes Takashi to lie down with his head on Sensei’s lap. Sensei sends a text to Kaname and another to the Fujiwaras, and then tucks the phone back into Takashi’s bag beside the Book.

“Sleep already,” Sensei says, gruffly, and puts a hand on Takashi’s hair, scruffs it. Takashi thinks of sleeping curled up in Sensei’s huge true form, and all its warm, soft fur.

He wakes up feeling someone watching him. Sensei’s lap is still under his head, so whatever is out there, it can’t be that bad. Still half asleep, he cracks open one eye, looks around.

There’s a woman standing just outside the torii gates. A yokai? She’s older, with grey hair. Her clothes are a little old-fashioned but not enough to say one way or the other.

He blinks and she’s gone. Yes, a yokai. He’s glad he didn’t try to talk to her.

Chapter Text

Once he properly wakes up from his nap, Takashi does in fact feel refreshed. Kaname seems happy with the third university, too, and says it might have fewer resources than the others, but the faculty are especially passionate.

They reach the restaurant and are brought to the table Natori-san reserved for them. Takashi has a cup of tea to clear away the last of his cobwebs. They still have the castle after lunch, and he wants to find some trace of Reiko there if he can. Even though he knows it’s a long shot, after so many years. Just because she took a Name there doesn’t mean the location meant anything to her. Especially given her tendency to just— Never go back to places, after she’d beaten the yokai there. She was probably just passing through, a tourist, like he is today.

“I was expecting a table for three,” Natori-san says, as he arrives. He gives Sensei one of his most charming smiles. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this beautiful lady?”

Sensei growls at him. Natori-san just chuckles, amused, and takes the seat next to Sensei.

“It’s easier for Sensei to protect me here in this form,” Takashi explains. He looks around and sees Hiiragi standing guard outside the restaurant. He gives the shiki a little wave. She gives back a single nod.

“It must be, you two are all the local yokai are talking about,” Natori-san says.

“What?!” Takashi gasps. They’re talking about him?! Already?!

“You made quite the entrance today,” Natori-san continues. He turns to Sensei. “Showing everyone you’re the new boss?”

Sensei smirks. “I’m always the boss.”

Takashi frowns at Sensei, suspicious. He frowns at Kaname, wondering if the two of them were in on this together, conspiring, laying groundwork for the three of them to actually move here. But Kaname seems surprised too.

Unlike Takashi, pleasantly surprised.

“This menu looks very good,” Kaname says to Sensei. Then to Natori, “I’m buying Sensei whatever he wants for lunch.”

Natori-san turns to Kaname, then— Blinks in quiet surprise. Glances at Takashi, curious. Then all that vanishes as he smiles charmingly again.

“Oh, that was a mistake,” Natori-san says, with the voice of experience. “Good thing lunch is my treat today.”

“Natori-san,” Takashi starts.

“I just signed a deal for a second album,” Natori-san says, uninterested in Takashi’s protests. “We’re celebrating.”

“That’s wonderful, congratulations!” Kaname says, smiling. He nudges Takashi with his elbow. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Takashi already dreads having to hear Natori-san’s voice everywhere again, singing more ridiculous love songs. “Congratulations,” he says, flatly.

Natori-san just chuckles, amused as always by Takashi’s utter lack of enthusiasm for his performing career. The gecko yokai crawls up past his neckline and rests along his jaw. As always, Takashi tries to not stare at it.

The server arrives and Sensei orders a ridiculous pile of food. Natori-san quietly winces, but doesn’t retract his offer to pay. Takashi decides to change his own order to the least expensive item, or maybe nothing. But the server leaves before he can find the words.

He sighs quietly, knowing the three of them wouldn’t let him anyway. And he is rather hungry, despite the dango.

“So how were the schools?” Natori-san asks Kaname. “It’s been a while since we saw each other. Tanuma-san tells me you’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” Kaname says. “All of them looked great, honestly. I have a lot to think about. And a lot of studying to do.”

“Going to start cram school soon?”

“After graduation,” Kaname says, sounding more certain about it than ever. “I’m feeling very healthy these days.”

“You look very healthy,” Natori-san says, smiling. “And are those muscles I see? I’m going to have to send my personal trainer to you to get tips. What’s your routine?”

“Carrying Natsume,” Sensei smirks.

Takashi turns red. “Sensei!”

Kaname laughs. “I’ve been helping out more at the temple. It’s been really great to be able to work with my dad. He’s always doing what he can to take care of people.”

“He’s a generous man,” Natori-san agrees.

Takashi knows the two have become friends, Natori-san and Tanuma-san. Working closely together, exorcist and monk, to make powerful protections. It’s still strange, having these different parts of his life joined together like this. Natori-san was only supposed to be part of his yokai life. Kaname and Tanuma-san should have been only part of his human life. But then Kaname got tangled up in both, right from the start.

“He must be very excited about your spiritual progression,” Natori-san continues, his casual tone taking on a steely edge. “How good is your Sight now, would you say? Can you see color yet?”

Kaname goes very still. Takashi frowns, confused.

“Kaname can’t See,” Takashi explains, wondering if Natori-san got confused. “I mean, he can a little, but just shadows.”

Natori-san stares at Kaname, expectant.

“It’s complicated,” Kaname says, defensive.

“I knew Taki was up to something with all those questions,” Natori-san says, disapproving. “But I thought she was trying to give herself Sight, not you.”

“It just happened,” Kaname says. “Taki didn’t do anything. Just— Helped me understand.”

“Understand what?” Takashi asks, trying not to panic, even though he’s definitely panicking. He looks to Sensei, needing his support, for him to be surprised and say he can fix this.

But Sensei does not look surprised.

“You knew about this?” Takashi asks, feeling betrayed.

“Of course I knew, idiot,” Sensei says. “It’s obvious.”

“Takashi,” Kaname starts, worried.

“Why do they think you can See?” Takashi asks, unable to be anything but blunt.

“Because I can,” Kaname admits. “I promise, it wasn’t on purpose. It really did just happen. When my migraines stopped.”

Takashi’s brain feels like it slipped a gear. Like he missed a step on the stairs. “But you said—“ What was it Kaname and Sensei said, when Kaname first told them his headaches were going away? Something about iron and a magnet?

“I did this to you?” Takashi says, horrified realization coming over him.

“You healed me,” Kaname says, certain. “Whatever was making me sick for my entire life, all those migraines and fevers— Just being around you fixed it. And the better I felt, the more I Saw.”

“But you have to go to university,” Takashi says. Kaname can’t go to university if he’s like this.

“I am going,” Kaname says. “You’re the only reason I can go.”

Takashi looks around, feeling dull with shock. He thinks of Hiiragi standing outside. “Can you see Hiiragi?” he asks.

Kaname looks directly at her. No hesitation, no confusion. “Yes.”

“And the yokai in the alley. You could see it?”

“Yes,” Kaname admits. “It was a suiko, I think. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I wanted to, I just—“

“Excuse me,” Takashi says, and stands. Takes his bag.

Sensei stands, too.

“Don’t,” Takashi tells him, sharply. Angry.

A tiny bit of guilt flashes across Sensei’s face. Good.

He must have had a grand time watching Takashi during all this. Letting him be an oblivious idiot. No wonder he and Kaname have been buddying up so much. They can have each other.

He walks out of the restaurant alone, then goes to stand next to Hiiragi. He’s humiliated and mad but he’s not dumb enough to just storm off, much as he wants to. Especially now that the city’s yokai are interested in him. Maybe recognizing him as Reiko’s grandson. Maybe realizing he has the Book.

Sometimes he does want to just let someone take it from him. To not have the burden of protecting it and returning all the Names. But then what? Would Sensei stay? Takashi would be breaking his promise to him, to give him the Book. Maybe he should just give Sensei the Book.

The thought of doing that makes it hard to breathe.

Someone comes out of the restaurant. To Takashi’s surprise, it’s Natori-san.

“You know, just having Sight isn’t harmful,” Natori-san says, reasonably.

“Your Sight hurt you,” Takashi says, plainly.

“My family hurt me,” Natori-san says. “Their refusal to accept me. Being alone hurt me. Having Sight gave me purpose.”

Takashi can’t argue, even though he wants to.

“Tanuma isn’t a vulnerable child,” Natori-san continues. “And he’s sensible. More level-headed than either of us.” He gives a soft laugh, more to comfort Takashi than out of humor. “Is it so bad that he’s happy about sharing your scenery?”

“Yes,” Takashi says, tightly.

“He cares about you very much,” Natori-san says, gently. “If his Sight improved with his health, then it was probably always meant to be this way. It’s a part of him, just like it is for us. You wouldn’t want me to lose my Sight, would you?”

That’s an awful thought. Takashi shakes his head.

“Especially because then I’d have nothing to do with my life but act and sing,” Natori-san teases.

That drags a very small laugh out of Takashi.

“Come back inside,” Natori-san says, gently. “Be mad at him, but talk to him.”

”You shouldn’t give them up,” Natori-san once told him, talking about Takashi’s friends, his human relationships. About Kaname. ”It might be hard, but you need them.”

Takashi never thought things would go this far. With Kaname, with the Fujiwaras, with his human friends. He doesn’t know what to do.

Takashi lets himself be ushered back inside. He sits, arms crossed, feeling embarrassed and angry, upset in ways he can’t even describe.

“Takashi,” Kaname starts, apologetic.

The server returns with their food. They’re all silent as the plates are distributed, most of them going to Sensei.

Takashi stares at his own food, not sure he can make himself eat any of it.

“Eat,” Sensei tells him, firmly.

Takashi eats.

Once it’s clear that Takashi isn’t ready to continue their conversation, Kaname talks to Natori-san about the universities, the things he liked and didn’t like about each one, how getting into any of them still feels like it’s going to take a lot of work and luck. Natori-san talks about his early forays into the acting world, how it making a career there felt like a mixture of easy and impossible, and sometimes still does.

Takashi tries to engage with it. Manages a small contribution to the conversation, which makes everyone relax more. But he just—

“Takashi,” Kaname says, drawing his attention. Takashi realizes the meal is over, and Natori-san is paying the check. “We can go home now if you want. See the castle another time.”

“I want to see it,” Takashi says, certain. He needs to see it. To find some trace of Reiko there, some evidence that she existed outside of the Book and Sensei, and the cruel words of his relatives.

He needs to know if there was ever any hope for her. Because if there wasn’t—

Kaname has a worried look, but accepts his decision.

Chapter Text

Takashi texts the Fujiwaras when they leave the restaurant. He texts them again when they reach the entrance to the castle walkway. Touko-san replies with a heart emoji, and asks how lunch was with Natori-san.

Takashi hesitates in his reply. He doesn’t want to lie to them. But the words won’t come. Delicious!, he sends, in compromise. The food was good, for the all he was actually able to taste it.

That old woman yokai is back, the one from the shrine. She’s following them, but at least so far she’s keeping her distance. It’s nothing new for him to have a stalker. Just one more for Sensei to deal with, if she starts anything.

He’s barely spoken to Kaname or Sensei since the restaurant. He can’t find the words to talk to them. He’s upset and angry and half-numb, bitter about being lied to, distressed that they only lied because they knew he’d react this way, distressed that he is reacting this way, that he can’t be happy for Kaname, and bone-deep horrified that Kaname can See.

It feels utterly catastrophic. But everyone else is just— Fine. It gives him the same vertigo he feels when he realizes the human he’s talking to is actually a yokai, and the actual humans around him have been watching him talk on and on to absolutely nothing.

There’s probably no point in being here, at this castle, in this city. He won’t find anything good here because there’s nothing to find. Reiko came here, played her game, took a Name, and moved on. That was her life, it was all she did. What else would she possibly do? She had no one else, nothing, only the Book. She made it, had a daughter, and then died young. The end.

Beside him, Kaname sighs. Takashi feels awful for feeling awful. But he can’t seem to force out the fake smiles and fake cheer he used to rely on. He’s stuck, just a tangled ball of awful feelings and no way to untangle them or hide them.

“What part of the castle did you see in the memory?” Kaname asks, breaking the silence between them.

Takashi looks at the curved stone walls as they approach. Wooden buildings rise over them, with ornate roofs. “The central keep, I think.”

Steps lead them up over the castle walls, and then down to the interior. The walkway continues underneath one of the structures, with a low wooden ceiling and impressively heavy beams. It starts to feel familiar, like he’s within the yokai’s memories.

He always feels what the yokai feels, in the memories he gets. He sees Reiko through them, but also gets glimpses of their own lives and experiences. How time feels for them, so different than for humans. How the places they live are alive and connected to them. The snake yokai, Shisha, lived here for a long time. Centuries, probably.

Takashi has never been here before, but it feels like he’s always been here. It feels like he has an important job, a purpose. One that Reiko’s game interrupted. He wonders if Shisha came back here, after he returned his Name? It seems likely.

Most of the yokai he returns Names to are eager to get back to their lives, but some appear to move on to another plane of existence entirely. A brief meeting and they’re gone, leaving behind a different piece of themselves.

Takashi rarely gets to stay in touch with them, the way he does with the Dog’s Circle. It would be nice to see Shisha again, find out how he’s doing. Takashi decides to keep an eye out for a white snake head.

The castle is surprisingly empty of yokai, however. Just humans, or at least yokai who look like humans. If he was in the mood to talk to Sensei, he might ask him to check. But he is very much not.

If there’s anything life-endangering, Sensei will tell him. He just won’t volunteer anything else, like the fact that Takashi’s boyfriend can See.

They reach the castle courtyard, and the memories get even stronger. He feels himself doubled, standing here now and in the past with Reiko, and Sensei’s Reiko form makes the feeling almost overpowering. He half expects Sensei to turn and challenge him to a game.

“Are you okay?” Kaname asks, concerned.

“Just— Memories,” Takashi says, trying to shake the feeling away. He looks up at the keep, and feels like he already knows every inch of it, every piece of wood and metal and stone. It feels like home. It feels like he belongs. It feels like if he’s gone, he’ll be missed.

He looks up at the highest roof and sees the shachihoko perched on each end of it, a pair of sculptures with fish bodies and tiger faces, there to protect the castle from harm. They remind him of the yokai he helped today, the suiko, and he also feels like he personally knows the tiger-fish and trusts them. He sways, dizzy.

The next thing he knows, Kaname is dragging him over to a bench.

“Takashi!” Kaname calls, wide-eyed.

“He’s just being a weakling,” Sensei mutters, cranky.

“I’m okay,” Takashi says, or tries to say, when his tongue feels like it’s the wrong shape.

“I’m taking you home,” Kaname insists.

“No,” Takashi says, firmly, even as he grabs at the bench to keep himself from falling off, even with Kaname holding him up. “I just need— A minute.”

“You’ve had a long day already, we can come back,” Kaname says.

“No,” Takashi says again. “I need to do this. If you don’t want to stay then leave. I’ll be fine.” An obvious lie, but he says it anyway, frustrated by his own weakness, not wanting to stop until he finds what he’s looking for, whether it exists or not.

“Okay,” Kaname accepts, giving in, at least for now. He doesn’t leave, and gets a look about him that says he’s going to stay right where he is, that he can out-stubborn Takashi if it comes to it.

If Takashi passes out, though, he knows that will change things, that will end the stalemate and he’ll probably wake up on the train home. So he does not pass out. He breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, and reminds himself that he is not Shisha, he is Natsume Takashi. He is not a centuries-old yokai, he is a teenaged human.

The feeling passes, or at least subsides. He feels like his body is something he recognizes again. This is far from the first time he’s been overwhelmed by yokai memories and feelings — it’s a regular occurrence even aside from the Book — but it was one of the strongest.

Kaname hands him a water bottle, and Takashi sips from it.

“Better?” Kaname asks.

Takashi nods.

“Good,” Kaname says. “If we’re going to do this, we need a plan. We’re going to go inside and look around. We’re going to find the information desk and ask if anyone remembers Reiko, or stories about her. If you’re up to it, we can visit the gift shop. And then we’re going home.”

Takashi wants to argue. But it’s a sensible plan, and it’s not as if he has a better one, just the shapeless need to be here and find out.

“Okay,” he agrees.

“Great!” Kaname says, relieved. “Can you stand up yet?”

“I think so,” Takashi says. He tries, and wobbles a bit, but makes it to his own two feet. If he was home right now, he’d be happy to collapse on the nearest soft surface, or even a hard one. But he needs to see this through.

A ramp leads up to the entrance of the keep, and also gives them a stunning view of the city, spread out below them and edged by clouds and mountains. The modern ramps and guide markers don’t feel familiar to the Shisha part of him at all, which helps ground him in the present.

Inside is a museum. There’s a scale model of the palace, as the actual one is off-limits to visitors. Takashi peeks inside at the golden, ornate palace chambers, and can physically see himself inside the real thing, as Shisha. A memory of a memory.

They wander deeper into the museum. There are a lot of pictures, some artifacts on display, informative text. They go up the stairs and there’s a room lined with beautiful old samurai armor. They go up again, and top floor is all glass windows, with an even better view of Kumamoto, and the rest of the castle down below.

“Huh,” he says, surprised. “It’s so different.”

“I guess it’s changed a lot since Reiko was here,” Kaname says. “When do you think it was? I think there’s a timeline in here.”

He opens the pamphlet he grabbed at the entrance. “Built in 1467,” he reads. “Expanded in 1496, again in 1601. And then in 1877—“ He pauses. “In 1877 it burned down. And reconstruction finished ten years ago.”

“What?” Takashi says, confused. “That can’t be right. She was here, I saw it.”

“You’re sure it was this castle, not another one?” Kaname offers.

“It was definitely this castle,” Takashi says, certain. The castle that, according to this museum, didn’t exist when Reiko was alive. At least not as anything more than a ruin.

“Trouble,” Sensei says, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Kaname says. He takes Takashi’s hand. “We’re leaving.”

Takashi doesn’t argue. He can feel that something’s off. And as they turn back—

The other tourists are gone. There were people here, looking out the windows and taking pictures, and now the whole floor is empty.

A huge shadow flies past the windows. Takashi freezes.

“What was that?” Kaname whispers, scared.

“Small fry,” Sensei declares, lip curled back in a snarl.

It happens again, on the other side of the room.

“That was not small,” Kaname says. “Sensei!”

“I’m dealing with it,” Sensei declares, and with a big poof his Reiko form is gone, and his true form is there, a massive white wolf barely fitting into the space. He snarls again, this time baring giant, sharp teeth.

And then the huge shadow flies inside, passing right through the glass, and crashes into Sensei. And then another! It’s the shachihoko!

The Shisha part of him recognizes the tiger-fish with relief. The human part of him runs straight for the stairs, hauling Kaname after him.

They make it down one level and Takashi stops, looks back up the stairs. He can just glimpse the huge beasts wrestling, a blur of white fur and glittering fish scales.

“We have to go,” Kaname says, urgent and tugging at him.

“But Sensei,” Takashi says, terrified for him. He knows there’s nothing he can do against such massive creatures, but—

And then the pull of Kaname’s hand eases. “Takashi,” Kaname says, in a terrified whisper.

Takashi turns. To his horrified astonishment, the samurai armor is moving. They’re yokai.

And they’re closing in around them.

Takashi heads for the stairs leading down, but the way is blocked. With a desperate cry, he lunges forward and punches one yokai, then another. But there’s more, and they grab him.

A hand slaps a white paper seal onto one yokai, and it collapses. Natori-san?

Takashi struggles in the grip of the remaining yokai, and turns to see Kaname standing there, wearing glasses, holding another paper seal.

Takashi gapes. What?

“What the hell are you doing?!” Takashi shouts, outraged. It’s bad enough that he can See. He has glasses? Spells?

“Saving us!” Kaname says, and slaps another yokai with another seal, then another.

With Kaname as a distraction, Takashi manages to get in another solid punch. It’s starting to look like they’re actually going to get out of this. If Sensei can just overpower the shachihoko—

And then the armor yokai grab Kaname, rip away the bundle of paper seals. And Takashi is grabbed hard and pulled down, and there’s something across his throat, he can’t breathe—!

Kaname—!

Sensei—!

The next thing he knows, he’s being dragged. He opens his eyes, dazed, and sees a golden ceiling both familiar and unfamiliar. Ornate paintings of trees and mountains. The palace chambers, from the museum model, from Shisha’s memories.

His throat hurts and his head hurts, and he’s a stupid idiot who never learns anything, who’s going to get Kaname killed if he hasn’t already. It’s never mattered what happened to him, never, but Kaname—

He hears a groan. Kaname!

He struggles and realizes he’s been bound with rope. He tries to get free but it’s too tight, and the samurai armor yokai are all around him.

He’s hauled up and then thrown to the ground, face down. He coughs, the wind knocked out of him, then feels a shock of relief and fear as Kaname is thrown down beside him, dazed and bound.

“Kaname!” Takashi cries, desperate. “Sensei, where’s Sensei—“

“Quiet!” a loud voice booms. Is it male? Female? Somehow both at once.

There’s a throne at the back of the golden room. A figure sits in resplendent white and red robes. A young woman with black hair, then an old man with white hair, then a white fox head, flickering back and forth between them. Then finally settling on the woman.

A familiar growl makes Takashi’s heart leap with hope. Sensei! “Sensei!” he cries, and in response one of the armor yokai puts a heavy foot on his back and shoves him down. Takashi bites back a pained whimper.

More armor yokai appear, dragging forward a struggling, furious Sensei, still in his true form but bound and muzzled.

“Sensei,” Takashi gasps. This can’t be happening. It can’t be.

“Has he made himself your master, my wayward pet?” asks the woman. “How amusing.”

Pet? “Let him go!” Takashi cries.

The foot shoves him again. It hurts!

“These human children are hardly a threat, my Lord,” a voice says. A familiar voice.

It’s Shisha! The white snake yokai walks forward. He’s holding Takashi’s bag. His bag!

No. The Book. No!

Shisha opens the bag. Takes out the Book. Takashi’s heartbeat is loud in his ears. This can’t be happening. It has to be a nightmare. Just a nightmare. He’s going to wake up screaming and Shigeru-san is going to make him tea, and—

“Ah, here’s the trouble,” the woman says, taking the Book. “Interfering with my court. Troubling my devoted servants. You will pay for this.”

Takashi looks wildly around, searching for a way out, there has to be a way out. But all he sees are more yokai, human-like with white animal heads, dressed in fine robes.

“My Lord God, if I may speak,” Shisha says, with a bow. “He is not the human who bound my Name. That was his grandmother.”

“I don’t care,” says the woman, and her eyes flare red. “He has great power. If he served my pet, he now serves me. Him and his exorcist.”

A haze of black smoke drifts from the woman, and Takashi’s blood runs cold. Whoever this yokai is, she’s like Gen and Sui, the guardian spirits he helped. He remembers the sickening auras that poured from both of them as they were consumed by their grief and anger.

Something’s corrupting her. And whoever she is, she’s powerful.

The other yokai, the ones with white animal heads, back away uneasily as black smoke rolls out around the throne.

The armor yokai grab Takashi and Kaname and haul them up. Takashi’s feet dangle over the floor. Kaname groans and his eyes flutter.

The woman stands, steps forward. “Do you know who I am, child?” Her voice grows harsh from the corruption. “I am your master now, your Lord God Inari. Your human life is over. From now on, you will serve only me.”

And black smoke billowing from her, her eyes blazing red, she reaches into Takashi’s chest, and he screams.

Chapter Text

Kaname jolts awake, body thrumming with fear, head throbbing like his migraines are back. The last thing he remembers was that woman reaching into his chest, and then blinding pain—

No. Not a woman. A god. Inari, the god of rice. A god he’s prayed to countless times. An actual god. Is this what Takashi—

“Takashi!”

Kaname sits up, winces and groans. His clothes feel strange, and he looks down to find he’s been changed into a fine kimono, like the ones those other yokai were wearing. He turns and finds Takashi lying close, unconscious, and in a similar kimono.

Takashi’s hair has turned completely white. Kaname tugs at his own hair, and realizes his has, too.

The way Takashi screamed. Kaname still hears it ringing in his ears.

They’re in a literal gilded cage, a delicate-looking prison with golden bars, all within another golden chamber. Tatami mats line the floor. Their bags are gone, and their normal clothes and omamori. He supposes a blessing of protection wouldn’t do much to stop an actual god.

This is— Extremely bad. Sensei is probably locked in up another golden cage somewhere. Kaname has no idea how much time has passed, if anyone has realized they’re missing, if anyone could find them if they did. He doesn’t think they’re in the human world anymore.

He tries to take that in, and feels numb, shocky.

They have to get out of here. He has to wake up Takashi so they can find a way out, and rescue Sensei, and somehow get back to the human world. He hopes he can manage step one.

“Takashi,” he calls, and gives Takashi a gentle shake, then a less gentle one. “Takashi! You have to wake up. Please wake up.”

Takashi gives a pained groan, and his brow furrows. “Kaname?” he calls, strained. “Hurts.”

“I know,” Kaname soothes. “I know, but you have to wake up.” And he knows it’s playing dirty when he adds, “We have to save Sensei.”

Takashi’s eyes fly open. “Sensei!” He sits up, fast, and Kaname has to catch him before he falls back down.

“Easy,” Kaname soothes. “Take a minute.” They’re not safe by any stretch of the imagination, but at the very least they’re not in any immediate danger.

“My head,” Takashi groans, reaching up to hold it. And then he must wake up enough to remember what happened, because he sits up again, scrambling. “The Book! She has the— My bag, where’s—“ And then to Kaname’s shock, Takashi starts to sob.

He’s never seen Takashi break down like this. He reaches for him to hold him, but Takashi jerks away, whining like a wounded animal.

And then black smoke starts drifting out of Takashi’s body, just like what happened with Inari. Kaname doesn’t know what it is, but he absolutely does not want it happening to Takashi.

He grabs Takashi’s arm, and then pulls his hand back, wincing. Takashi’s body burned him.

“Takashi,” Kaname gasps, on the verge of breaking down himself. But he has to keep it together. It’s the only way they’re going to have even a chance of getting out of here.

“Takashi, listen to me,” Kaname says, hoping words will be enough. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get us out of here. Right now I just— I need you to breathe, okay? Talk to me. Tell me what’s happening to you.”

“H-hurts,” Takashi groans, his voice strangely harsh.

“It does,” Kaname agrees. “Tell me what hurts.”

Takashi doesn’t seem to be able to answer that.

“It’s okay,” Kaname rambles, not knowing what else to do. “Natori-san knows we’re missing. He’s going to get help. You know how he is when you need help. He won’t stop, not for anything. He’ll find us. And my dad’s going to be right there with him. And— And when we get back, Touko-san and Shigeru-san are gonna give both of us the biggest hugs, okay? And we’re all gonna make sure this never ever happens again.”

Kaname rubs the tears from his eyes, and hopes any of that is true.

To his intense relief, the black smoke is starting to dissipate. Takashi slumps, gasping, and as he turns, Kaname just catches red light fading from his eyes.

Kaname quietly shudders. But when he reaches out and touches Takashi’s arm, it doesn’t burn him. He pulls Takashi up and hugs him tightly.

“Kaname,” Takashi groans, tired.

“Just stay with me, okay?” Kaname pleads. “Stay with me.” He keeps holding Takashi, strokes his hair, his back.

“I’m okay,” Takashi says, finally. He pulls back and his eyes are tired, reddened but only in the normal human way.

“What was that?” Kaname asks, trying to let only a fraction of his worry into his voice.

“Corruption,” Takashi says, with an awful, sad acceptance. “Inari must have— Turned us into yokai. And if a yokai has— Bad feelings, for too long—“ He gives an awful, hollow laugh. “I’m sorry. I killed us. I’m sorry.”

“We’re not dead,” Kaname says, though he has no idea if that’s true. “Whatever Inari did to us, someone can fix it. We just have to keep it together so we can get out of here.” He rubs his face, tries to think. “What happens to corrupted yokai?”

“We become evil,” Takashi says, far too calmly. “There were two yokai I helped. Gen and Sui.”

“Tell me about them. They were evil?”

“Sui was,” Takashi says. Telling the story seems to be calming him down a little. “They were guardian spirits. They lived in statues in a forest. Their humans turned on them, destroyed Sui’s statue. She was lost, angry. Gen was— He tried to possess me. Ended up in a snow bunny I made.” He gives a tiny smile. “Touko-san put him in the freezer and made him a snow friend.”

“That sounds like her,” Kaname says, as warmly as he can. “What was Gen like?”

“Sad,” Takashi says. “Too sad. But we found Sui, and Gen calmed her down, took her home to their forest. He said they’d heal together there. I planted flowers for them.”

Of course he did. “So their corruption, it wasn’t permanent?”

“No,” Takashi says, and there’s a glimmer of hope in those reddened eyes. Just a glimmer. “Getting Sui back healed Gen. Sui needed more time, but— I think she’s okay.”

“Good,” Kaname says, incredibly relieved. “Great! So we just have to— Help you feel better. Right?”

“Yes,” Takashi says, but isn’t very happy about it.

“And maybe if we can help Inari feel better, she can fix this. Send us back.”

“We don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Takashi says. “We don’t know how long it will take. Or if it’s even something we can fix.”

“We can’t just give up,” Kaname says, frustrated by his unusual pessimism. “You never give up.”

“Maybe I should,” Takashi says, angry. “Maybe if I wasn’t such a stubborn idiot, we’d be home. And alive.” He pulls in on himself. “I was always so afraid— I knew you’d get hurt, being close to me.” And then he’s angry again. “What were you even doing with those seals? And glasses? Did Natori-san—“

“No,” Kaname says. “He didn’t know about any of this.”

“Taki,” Takashi guesses.

Kaname nods, sighs. “She just wanted to help me keep you safe. I can See better with the glasses.” Though he’s just realized that they’re gone, too. Not that he needs them here. “She gave me the seals, in case there was an emergency and you and Sensei needed help.”

“Inari thinks you’re an exorcist,” Takashi says, somehow faintly amused.

“You’re more of one than I am,” Kaname teases. He knows how much Takashi gets tangled up in exorcist business, whether he wants to be or not.

And then just when Takashi seems to be feeling better, he suddenly starts to cry. But not like any crying Kaname has seen. He goes utterly still and silent, barely breathing as tears pour down his face. And the raw pain and despair in those reddened eyes—

Sometimes Kaname gets a glimpse of the pain Takashi has inside him. Just a glimpse, because Takashi works so hard to never let anyone know how bad he feels. This is the most Kaname’s ever seen, right now.

Bad feelings for too long. It sounded so simple, for Gen and Sui. A reunion, some rest, some flowers. But whatever Takashi is now, his pain is human and complicated. He’s been resting. He’s been surrounded by people who love him and do their best to protect him. He’s had all the flowers he could ever want.

Flowers can’t solve this pain. Kaname honestly doesn’t know if anything can.

He might lose Takashi forever.

He’s been trying so hard to find a way forward for them, despite all their challenges. He was so happy today, in Kumamoto. After years of loneliness and pain, he really saw a future for himself, for both of them, together.

And in a moment, everything was snatched away.

Maybe they are dead. Maybe it’s too late.

He’ll never see his dad again. What will Kaname’s death do to him?

No!

He can’t—

He can’t let himself despair, too. If he becomes corrupted, then that’s it for them. Maybe Sensei can still save them, if he can escape. But if he’s actually Inari’s pet, or something, then maybe going against her is something he just can’t do.

So Kaname sits back and closes his eyes. He counts his breaths, each inhale and exhale. He sets aside his worries and clears his mind of all thoughts, all judgements. He becomes aware only of the present moment. He is calm, and his mind is open and relaxed.

He trusts that they will find an answer. They will find a way through. They will all be home, together.

When he feels ready, he opens his eyes. Takashi isn’t crying anymore, but he isn’t doing anything else, just sitting and staring like a puppet with cut strings. It might be the worst thing Kaname has ever seen. It breaks his heart.

But he is calm, and he lets all judgements pass through him. Everything is a temporary state, even pain, even this.

He reaches out and guides Takashi to lie down, then lies down with him. Pulls Takashi into his arms. Dries Takashi’s face and eyes with his sleeve.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, calm. “We’re going to be okay. Just rest with me. Close your eyes.”

He strokes Takashi’s hair, his back, his arm. Slowly, Takashi eases out of his frozen state. He holds Kaname back, first tentative and then clinging. He doesn’t cry, but he shudders, trembles.

Kaname just keeps holding him.

Chapter Text

The bars of their cage are solid and unbendable. Food and water are brought to them by a kimono-clad yokai with a white rabbit head, who silently bows as it leaves their tray. Alive or dead, Kaname still feels thirst and hunger, so he makes sure that Takashi eats and drinks too.

The black smoke that came out of him before hasn’t returned, but that might only be because Takashi is too numb to get upset. For now, Kaname lets him stay that way. Alternates between holding Takashi, soothing him, and taking care of his own mind with bouts of meditation.

Kaname considers praying, but drawing the attention of any more gods seems like a bad idea right now.

He starts working on a new plan, one focused on Takashi. Getting out doesn’t matter much if he can’t save Takashi from the corruption. He wishes he’d ever been able to interest Takashi in meditation, but whenever Kaname offered to teach him, Takashi would smile too much and politely decline.

Kaname wishes he’d ever worked harder to get Takashi to open up more. To let out at least some of what he feels. To stop pretending he’s fine and get closer to actually being fine.

Kaname doesn’t understand how all those supposed family members who supposedly took care of Takashi— They couldn’t have all been that oblivious. And yet they let this happen. They caused it. They saw a hurt, vulnerable little boy and decided to hurt him more and then throw him away, over and over.

If Kaname could go back to when the Days Eater took away all those years of Takashi’s pain— Right now, he would tell Sensei to let the yokai go. The Fujiwaras would have understood the situation and accepted little Takashi and given him the childhood he deserved. Kaname would absolutely give up being with Takashi if it saved him from what he’s suffering now.

He feels like an idiot for bringing Takashi to Kumamoto, for thinking any of that could work. Kaname let his stupid dreams blind him to the obvious. Takashi told him it wasn’t safe, and it wasn’t. Kaname dragged Takashi away from the only remotely safe place he’d ever known. From the only place that had ever helped him heal, when he’d only just found it.

Kaname can’t get too angry and frustrated with himself for all that, because he has to stay calm, he has to let these feelings go and actually, genuinely forgive himself, which is difficult when it’s his fault that they’re maybe-dead and trapped in a cage and Takashi is almost catatonic, and if his boyfriend starts feeling his own emotions again he might turn into some kind of evil monster.

They are going to get out of here. He is going to fix this and bring Takashi home. He is not going to break down no matter how much he wants to, because if he does and black smoke starts pouring out of him—

The door to the golden chamber opens again. But it’s not the rabbit yokai this time. It’s the snake. Shisha.

Takashi stirs at the sight of him. Even through the dull numbness in his eyes, Kaname sees the hurt, the confusion. Why did this yokai whose Name he returned betray them?

Shisha, for his part, at least seems to regret his actions. Even without human facial features, he looks ashamed, his head bowed and body posture penitent.

“Natsume-no-kimi,” Shisha begins, surprising Kaname with the unusual honorific. The snake thinks Takashi is a prince? The snake gives a deep, respectful bow. “I am greatly sorry for what my Lord God has done to you, and for my part in it. I beg you to forgive the harm I have done, and let me try to repair it.”

Relief gets Kaname standing up and moving. “You want to help us?” He grips the bars of the cage, mind already racing.

“Prince Natsume was most generous in returning my Name, and asked for nothing in return,” Shisha says. “I had no desire to bring upon him such trouble.”

“Then why?” Takashi asks, finally dragged from his numb shock. He stands, unsteady, and stumbles up beside Kaname.

“When I lost my Name, I left the court of my Lord God Inari, ashamed of my loss and my divided loyalties,” Shisha explains. “But once you restored my Name, I was able to come home. To resume my position in her retinue. It is my purpose to record the good and evil deeds of humans, and report them to the King of the Astral Foxes. So that is what I did.”

“You told her about me,” Takashi says. “And Reiko.”

“Yes,” Shisha says. “She was interested in your Book of Friends. And she was most angry that your grandmother’s actions had harmed her court. I tried to explain that it was my arrogance that made me accept Natsume Reiko’s game, and my shame that kept me away. And perhaps if you had not come to the city, my Lord God would have eventually accepted that and forgotten the matter.”

“But we came,” Kaname says, unhappy.

“You came,” Shisha agrees. “And your presence could not be ignored. If you had not come to the castle yourself, delivered yourself to my Lord God, she would have commanded your capture. You were wise to submit yourself. Your situation would have been far worse had you not.”

Kaname and Takashi exchange a glance. Kaname doesn’t want to know what could be worse than this.

“What about Sensei?” Takashi asks, tense with worry. “Where is he? Is he hurt?”

“The shachihoko captured Madara-dono without harm,” Shisha assures. “But now that he is back, my Lord God desires to keep him close. He is on her leash, and will go where she goes. I cannot help him.”

“Back? What do you mean, back?” Takashi asks. “He’s from here?”

“Of course, Madara-dono has always been Inari’s,” Shisha says, matter-of-factly. “Not her most obedient servant, but a loved one, despite his tendency to wander off.” His snake expression becomes somehow resigned. “And drink all the palace sake.”

“That does sound like Sensei,” Kaname admits.

“The last time he left was before my own departure,” Shisha continues. “And in our absence—“ He gives an unhappy sigh. “I can help you. But I need your help in return. You saw her corruption? You know what it is?”

“Yes,” Kaname says, glancing at Takashi again. “What happened to her?”

“Too much loss,” Shisha laments. “Too much grief. Looking back, I realize the corruption began many years ago. My Lord God was not alone then, as she is now. Long ago, Inari was known as Uka-no-mitama. Then she became one with Dakiniten, the King of the Soul Eaters.”

Dakiniten. The name is familiar to Kaname, and he struggles to place it. At least talking to Shisha is giving him enough hope to push back his panic.

“Soul eaters?” Takashi echoes, worried.

Shisha realizes his concern, and gives a hissing laugh. “Dakiniten did not harm Uka-no-mitama. Quite the opposite. It was through her love that Uka-no-mitama became Inari.”

Takashi just looks confused now.

“Oh, Dakiniten!” Kaname says, as his memory finally starts cooperating. It’s all coming back to him now. “Okay. Wow. So, she’s uh, she’s a Buddhist deity. She used to be a flesh-eating demon, but then the Buddha changed her, so she’d only eat the uh—“ How can he simplify this? “The bad things in your heart after you die.”

“Okay,” Takashi says, slightly less confused, but no less worried. “And Dakiniten— Ate Inari’s heart?”

“Dakiniten was her heart,” Shisha explains. “They loved each other deeply. Most of this court, including myself, was given to Uka-no-mitama by Dakiniten. We are a symbol of their union. Uka-no-mitama thrived and became Inari. And for many centuries, all was well. And then the Great Disaster struck. Our humans began to force them apart.”

“Force them apart?” Kaname echoes, wondering if he could possibly mean— “Are you talking about the separation of Shinto and Buddhism?”

Many years ago, the government mandated that the blend of beliefs across Japan be separated out. Kaname has seen the scars of it everywhere he’s traveled, religious treasures displaced or destroyed, invented traditions made to justify forbidden rituals and materials, making it difficult to know the true history of anything. It’s one of the areas that interests him the most, for university.

“I believe that is what our humans call it,” Shisha says. “For all the gods of Japan, it was a terrible time. But for Dakiniten and Inari, it was unbearable. They had joined together, and our humans demanded they separate. For many years they resisted, trying to hold on to each other. But the strength of gods comes from those who worship them. Dakiniten was forced to leave our court.”

“That’s awful,” Takashi says, upset.

“Not all was lost,” Shisha continues. “There were still those who worshipped in the old ways, and that enabled Dakiniten to visit once a year. I believe those visits are what kept my Lord God from surrendering to the corruption that had been growing inside her.” The snake yokai pauses. “I was outside the castle, preparing for Dakiniten’s annual visit when Natsume Reiko appeared. Somehow she had crossed over into our realm. I demanded that she return to the human realm at once. She refused unless I played a game with her. If I won, she would leave. And if I lost—“

“Reiko always won,” Takashi sighs.

“I was not familiar with the human game of ‘jump rope,’” Shisha admits, embarrassed. “The rope kept getting caught on my tail. Most humiliating. I wrote my name in her book and retreated in shame. And because of that, I was not there to know that Dakiniten never arrived.”

“Because people stopped worshipping?” Takashi asks.

“Quite the contrary,” Shisha says. “Dakiniten’s visits had been growing longer, as some of the old ways returned. We had hoped sometime in the future, she would be able to return permanently. No, her disappearance is a mystery. My Lord God sent out her emissaries to search everywhere, even all the way back to India. But her Dakiniten was gone.” He pauses, affected.

“My Lord God’s corruption grew until it became what you saw,” Shisha continues. “The situation is dire. Natsume-no-kimi, I beg for you to command your exorcist to purify my Lord God, and save her from her grief. She is kind and loves her humans, when she is herself. I am certain I will be able to convince her to let you go. ”

Shisha look at Kaname, expectant.

“Me?” Kaname says, realizing. “I’m not an exorcist.”

“But you use the tools of an exorcist,” Shisha says.

“He’s not an exorcist,” Takashi says, firmly. “He’s just my boyfriend.”

“That is unfortunate,” Shisha says, frowning. “Then there may be no hope for any of us.”

“If I was an exorcist,” Kaname asks. “What would you need me to do, exactly?”

“Force the grief from her heart,” Shisha says. “Her love for Dakiniten must be removed. Then there will be no corruption.”

“That’s awful,” Kaname says, disturbed. Is that what all exorcists do, force yokai to stop having bad feelings so they won’t be ‘evil spirits’ anymore? Or just capture them and trap them in pots while they suffer in agony? No wonder Takashi doesn’t like exorcists very much.

“It is the only way now, with Dakiniten gone,” Shisha admits.

“But she can’t be gone-gone,” Kaname insists. “Lots of people worship her. I’ve worshipped her.” He remembers leaving offerings at her statue, in one temple or another, quite a few years ago. “Could she be hiding somewhere, like you did?”

“Even great shame could not keep Dakiniten and Inari apart,” Shisha insists.

“Maybe she’s trapped?” Takashi offers. “Imprisoned?”

Shisha considers this. “Possibly. But whoever trapped her would have to have great power.”

Takashi gets an awful look on his face. “You said Reiko was there.”

“Oh no,” Kaname groans. “Did she take her Name too?” Not that he would say it to Takashi, but Reiko really was a terrible menace. Blazing her way across the countryside, taking down every yokai in her path.

“Taking her Name wouldn’t trap her,” Takashi defends.

“No, but something else could have happened,” Kaname says. “I know you said Reiko never used the Book to command yokai, but she could have if she had to. If she was in danger. Right?”

“The binding of a true Name has immeasurable power,” Shisha says, soberly. “A single thoughtless word can become a permanent command. She could have simply told Dakiniten to go away, and she would have had no choice but to obey.”

“Maybe,” Takashi says, though he’s clearly unhappy with the idea. But he gets a stubborn look on his face, and Kaname is incredibly relieved to see it. “Maybe if we have the Book, we can use it to find her. Can you get it for us?”

“I’m sorry,” Shisha says. “My Lord God is keeping it with her, just as she is Madara-dono.”

“But how can we find Dakiniten if we don’t have the Book?” Takashi pleads.

“You will have to find a way,” Shisha says. “As I must find a way to set you free and hide your absence. If my Lord God finds that you are gone, she will be angry, and her anger will worsen her corruption. She will punish you.”

Kaname tries to not shudder, thinking of Inari’s hand in his chest, her eyes glowing red. Takashi’s awful screams. He refuses to let Inari hurt Takashi again.

“We’ll find a way,” Kaname promises, hoping with everything he is that it’s a promise he can keep.

“As will I,” Shisha says. He turns to go.

“Wait!” Kaname says, urgent. “Something happened, when we woke up here. Takashi was— He has corruption, too. Is there something— How do we—“ Shisha didn’t know how to stop Inari’s corruption without taking away part of who she is, but Kaname has no one else to ask.

“He does?” Shisha says, alarmed. He steps close to the cage. “Natsume-no-kimi, may I touch you?”

“Uh, okay,” Takashi says, and steps right up to the bars.

Shisha reaches a scaled hand between the bars, and touches the top of Takashi’s head and then his forehead. Then across his throat and the down to his heart. Chakra positions, Kaname realizes. But as Shisha moves down to inspect the lower chakras, Takashi startles and steps back.

“Sorry,” Takashi says, automatically.

“My apologies,” Shisha says, with a bow. “It’s all right, what I felt was enough. You must have great strength to control such a deep and extensive corruption.”

Takashi takes a short, sharp breath.

“Do you know how to fix it?” Kaname asks, faintly.

“You could allow yourself to be purified,” Shisha suggests.

“I think I have been,” Takashi says. “Sensei. Madara. He does this— Flash of light—“

“If you were a yokai, yes,” Shisha says. “That could be enough. But you are not.”

“We’re not?” Kaname asks, surprised.

“We’re not dead?” Takashi asks, even more surprised.

“My Lord God Inari did not kill you,” Shisha says, offended at the suggestion. “She made you hers. She bound you to her. You are no longer human. But you are not a spirit. And she brought you and your servant— your ‘boyfriend’ — into her court, Natsume-no-kimi. You are now her Prince, as I am, and a few others.”

“Her Prince?” Takashi asks, faintly.

“What does it mean, if we’re not human and not spirits?” Kaname asks.

“To be quite honest, I have no idea,” Shisha admits. “No human has ever been made her Prince before, and Prince Natsume’s power is remarkable.”

“Can Takashi still be purified?” Kaname asks.

“In the same way I sought to purify my Lord God,” Shisha says. “The source of the corruption must be removed. The feelings and memories that hurt him. Once they are gone, he will be pure again.” He frowns. “Natsume-no-kimi, your corruption is of great concern to me. Not just for yourself. Now that you and my Lord God are bound together, so are your corruptions. If we do not separate you quickly, your greater corruption might make it impossible to save my Lord God.”

“Oh,” Takashi says, and to Kaname’s alarm, his eyes fill with familiar despair, and a flash of red light.

“Fine,” Kaname says, firmly. “You get us out of here. We’ll find Dakiniten. Dakiniten will fix Inari, and then she’ll let all of us go. And then he’ll be human again, so he won’t be corrupted anymore, he’ll be fine.”

“He will still be corrupted,” Shisha corrects. “But he will be human, and cease to harm my Lord God. But as he will be mortal again, if he does not purify himself before death, he will become an evil spirit when he dies.” His snake expression looks regretful. “I hope that once you are human again, you will find peace, Natsume-no-kimi.”

Kaname is not someone who raises his voice, but he wants to scream at Shisha for saying that right to Takashi’s face. They’re trying to keep the corruption under control, not make it worse.

“It’s okay,” Takashi says, with eerie calm. “If that happens, I’ll just write my name in the Book.”

And then he walks to the opposite side of the cage and sits down, and stares at nothing.

“That was not helpful,” Kaname whispers sharply at Shisha.

“Oh,” Shisha says, realizing. “I apologize, ah— What is your name, boyfriend?”

Somehow Kaname manages to blush at that. “Tanuma Kaname. Just call me Tanuma.”

“I apologize, Tanuma-dono,” Shisha says, with a deep bow. “I am an observer and chronicler of humans, but I am not used to speaking with them. For all that our worlds are entwined, they are very different.”

“No kidding,” Kaname sighs. “Look, just get us out of here as fast as you can.”

Shisha bows again, and hurries out.

Chapter Text

In a way, it’s a relief. Takashi always knew it was too late for him. As long as he could remember, he knew. There were times when he hoped— When he tried—

But it was always too late for him. Like it was always too late for Reiko.

He’s corrupted. He’s so toxic that he’s even dangerous to a god.

He’s aware of Kaname sitting beside him, frowning, thinking and worry. Trying so hard to find a solution that just doesn’t exist.

Takashi already has the solution. It’s the same one Gen begged him for, when he was succumbing to his own corruption. Takashi will simply write his own Name on a blank piece of paper, binding his entire existence to it. Then he’ll ask someone to burn it.

Not Kaname. Takashi has hurt him enough. Natori-san, maybe. Or Matoba-san. Yes. Matoba-san knows what to do with things like Takashi.

It’s a relief to have it all worked out. It’s easier to keep calm, to not let the corruption take him over again, even as he feels it writhing inside him, huge and sickening. He understands Gen so much better now. How hard the guardian spirit must have fought to stay in control of himself. How he must have felt when he failed. His desperation to stop himself from becoming a monster and hurting the very people he existed to protect.

Takashi only has to hold on for a little longer. Just until Kaname is safe. Sensei too. It doesn’t even matter anymore if Inari keeps the Book. For Takashi’s Name, any blank piece of paper will do.

Even if they can’t find Dakiniten, even if they can’t save Inari from her own corruption. At least he will save her from his.

Shisha returns, and brings two other court yokai with them. They’re human-like with bird heads, a white rooster and a white falcon. Feathers peek out from their sleeves.

“Natsume-no-kimi, Tanuma-dono,” Shisha says, and all three yokai bow to them. “It is time. I have brought my Lord God’s trusted emissaries, Ton’yugyo and Shuyuchiso.”

Shisha gestures to the yokai and each bows again. The rooster is Ton’yugyo, and Shuyuchiso is the falcon.

“It was our job to find lost Dakiniten,” Ton’yugyo says, regretful. “To help you now is the least we can do.“

“We will take your place here, and your aspect,” Shuyuchiso explains. “And you will take ours. As us, you must go to our Lord God and request permission to leave the court to perform your duties.”

“We have to ask her?” Kaname asks, alarmed.

“None of us can leave without her permission,” Shisha says. “Not since the losses of Madara-dono and myself and Dakiniten, so close together. My Lord God keeps her court very close now. But her emissaries come and go with great frequency. Your departure now, as them, should raise no suspicions.”

“It is my purpose to bring happiness to our humans,” Ton’yugyo says.

“And mine to gift long life,” Shuyuchiso says. “We will show you how we address our Lord God, and you will repeat these words and actions to her as us. She will give you her blessing to leave the castle and enter the realm of humans.”

Shisha takes out a key and unlocks the cage. Takashi and Kaname eagerly walk out of it. The two emissaries walk them through the ritual. Despite the effort of resisting his corruption, Takashi memorizes every step.

Shisha hands out stylized masks, human masks for the emissaries and bird masks for Takashi and Kaname. The emissaries put theirs on and Shuyuchiso becomes Kaname, and Ton’yugyo becomes Takashi. They enter the cage and Shisha locks them inside.

“You must all keep your bearings at all times,” Shisha advises. “Give her no reason to look too closely. I will encourage my Lord God to keep busy with other matters, and give her new Prince and his servant time to fully regret their actions against her, so that they may be penitent and loyal when they join her court.”

Kaname puts on his mask, and turns into the falcon yokai. Takashi turns into the rooster. Shisha has them go through the steps one more time in their new forms.

“This is the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me,” Kaname says, with Shuyuchiso’s voice.

“It’s in my top ten,” Takashi admits. The corruption eases back, overcome by his nervous excitement. They’re actually getting out of here. They just have to not mess this up.

He will not mess this up. He’s getting them out of here.

Shisha leads them out of the golden chamber and down a golden hallway. He pauses at the door, silently warning them to be ready. And then he opens it and leads them through.

The door opens directly into the large court chamber from before. Inari is on her throne, resplendent her white and red robes, and the court yokai stand around her in obedient formality. The rabbit yokai from earlier is giving a performance, playing something elegant and old-fashioned on a koto. Inari listens to it calmly, with no corruption in sight.

Some of the samurai armor yokai are here too, standing guard along the walls and flanking the closed doors that lead to the outside.

And Sensei is there in the full glory of his true form, filling all the space behind and beside the throne as lays around it. A red piece of silk loops around Inari’s wrist, and leads up and under Sensei’s thick white fur, ending somewhere near his neck. His eyes are closed and he appears to be asleep.

Takashi has to force himself to not run forward and pull Sensei free.

He can’t. If their subterfuge is discovered, they’ll end up back in the cage again, or worse. And Shisha and the emissaries will be punished for helping them, and maybe Sensei too.

There’ll be nothing to stop the corruptions. They’ll be trapped here forever. Panic rises in him, feeds the corruption, makes it stronger.

No.

Takashi can’t be himself here, can’t be a human who just wants to save his friends and go home. It hurts too much.

He needs to be a member of Inari’s court. He pulls on his memories from Shisha and uses them to remember that he belongs here, that he belongs to her and has for a very long time, and only wishes to serve her and care for her humans.

Before, he resisted the memories and tried to hold on to himself. Now he opens himself to them. And something wakes inside him, not the corruption but— A connection. To Inari, to—

To his Lord God Inari.

Yes. He is her Prince, after all.

The effort it takes to imitate Ton’yugyo falls away. He moves naturally into the correct posture, matching the other members of the court. And beside him, he sees Kaname as Shuyuchiso, shifting in the same manner.

Prince Natsume can feel the bond between them. He can feel how his bond with his Lord God carries through into Tanuma-dono. How they are all connected, all in service to—

No, Kaname is— He’s not his servant. And Prince Natsume is— He has to be the emissary, not the Prince. He has to remember that. Ton’yugyo is the emissary of happiness.

He brings happiness.

And then the corruption eats the idea right out of his head.

With a jolt, he’s Takashi again, not Ton’yugyo, not Prince Natsume. He feels dizzy and starts to sway, but forces himself still again. Now is not the time.

Beside him, Kaname takes a small, sharp breath, as the bond to Inari eases its grip on him, too. They both go very still, waiting to see if anyone noticed. But the court proceeds on.

Takashi refuses to panic. If he panics, the corruption will take control.

They’re going to get out of here. They’re going to walk up to Inari, do the ritual request, and get out of here.

The performance ends, and the rabbit bows.

Shisha steps forward. Prince Shisha.

“My Lord God Inari,” Prince Shisha says, bowing deeply. “With your gracious and generous permission, I make a humble request to send your emissaries from the court. They must bring news of the new addition to your court out to your family. It has been many years since the creation of a new Prince, and preparations must be made to welcome him.”

“I will hear your request,” Lord God Inari declares. And her eyes fix on Prince Natsume. Then move to Tanuma-dono.

Prince Natsume walks forward, almost physically pulled by the bond, by his Lord God’s desire for his presence. His mask and subterfuge seem not to matter at all. Emissary or Prince, he exists to serve her. That is all that matters.

Tanuma-dono walks behind him, as a servant should. But then stands beside him as an equal, as her emissary.

“My Lord God Inari,” Tanuma-dono says, bowing deeply. “With your gracious and generous permission, I wish to bring the gift of long life from your bountiful heart out across the land.”

“My Lord God Inari,” Prince Natsume says, bowing deeply. “With your gracious and generous permission, I wish to bring the gift of great happiness from your bountiful heart out across the land.”

“I suppose you must,” Lord God Inari says, sadly. “Though my heart’s bounty lessens more with each day.” She gestures to the rabbit. “Even your sweet songs bring me little joy.”

The rabbit yokai looks devastated by this, and bows deeply. “My Lord God, I will make my music better to please you.”

“I know you will,” Lord God Inari says, fondly. And then she winces, grimaces, clutches at her chest.

A hint of green appears from within the folds of the red and white fabric of her kimono. The Book.

Takashi stares at it. It’s so close. As close as Sensei’s huge paw beside the throne. He could take it and run. He could take the Book and Sensei and Kaname and run. He desperately wants to and he can’t, and it hurts.

Inari groans and bends forward.

“I can’t let you go,” Inari says, her voice harsh with corruption. “You won’t come back.”

“Your emissaries have always returned to you, my Lord God,” Shisha says, calmly. “They are your most faithful servants, always drawn back to you.”

“No,” Inari says, eyes glowing red now, and wisps of smoke drifting from her body. “No more! None of you will ever leave me again!”

Takashi strains to keep still, to not react, as his own corruption twists and swells.

“But your family, my Lord God—“ Shisha starts.

“What do they matter?” Inari growls, angry. “I am the one the humans love! I am the one who feeds them! They don’t deserve to see my Prince. No one does. I will keep him here forever, and no one will take him from me!”

Black smoke pours from Inari, and Takashi is vaguely aware of a commotion around him.

But he can’t move. Can’t speak. His own corruption writhes violently inside him, and he can’t stop it, can’t be Ton’yugyo or Prince Natsume or even Takashi anymore.

He falls to his knees, aware of nothing but the corruption pushing in every direction inside him, of the black smoke pouring from him.

“No!” Inari cries, and grabs him. “No, my emissary!”

She kneels down with him on the ground, holding him.

“I did this to you,” she cries, bereft. “I made you like me. Oh my emissary! Forgive me!”

“My Lord God!” Shisha cries, reaching between them. Arms pull them apart.

He wheezes, lungs full of writhing black.

And then he’s on the ground, dragged back, held. He sees white feathered wings around him.

Shuyuchiso. Tanuma-dono. Kaname.

“Leave me!” Inari says, her voice still hoarse with corruption. “Go! Now!”

Feathered arms drag him up, drag him out. Gleaming samurai armor yokai line the walls as he’s pulled along, staggering. The black mass starts to calm, his lungs start to clear.

Crisp night air. Moonlight. He’s crouched over, the fabric of his kimono draped on the ground beneath him. White-feathered hands.

He has a name. Takashi. He’s Takashi.

He reaches up and rips off the mask, throws it aside, gasping for air. He sobs. His human hands press against rough concrete.

His eyes focus. They’re outside. There’s educational signs. There’s a ramp.

“Takashi,” Kaname sobs. His Shuyuchiso mask is gone. His face is wet with tears, his eyes wide with fear. “Can you hear me? Say something!”

“What—“ Takashi croaks. But he already knows what happened. Their corruptions fed on each other, riled each other. It was so strong.

“Hurts,” he groans, exhausted. He can feel himself starting to pass out. He won’t be able to stop it. He reaches for Kaname, not even sure what he needs to tell him.

And then he sees something move. He looks over. It’s that yokai again, from the shrine. The old woman. She’s still following him? She’s hurrying up to them.

“You again?” he slurs. If she wants to hurt him, he won’t be able to stop her.

The yokai’s eyes are wide. “That woman you were with! Where is she?”

“Woman?” Takashi slurs.

“Reiko!” cries the yokai, desperate. “Where’s Natsume Reiko?”

Oh, it’s a Name. But he doesn’t have the Book.

“That’s my grandmother,” he says, automatically. “I’m Natsume Takashi, her grandson. She died a long time ago, I’m sorry.”

“What?” the yokai says, surprised, confused. “But you were with her, she was just—“

And then something soft hits his chest. He looks down. It’s a little paper figure.

And then another hits him, and another, and another. And three more smack into Kaname.

“Hiiragi!!” Kaname shouts, and waves his free arm frantically.

Hiiragi. Paper trackers. Natori-san.

Oh good.

Takashi passes out.

Chapter Text

When Takashi wakes up, he wishes he hadn’t.

Everything hurts. He feels awful, feverish. The corruption is calm, but it still feels so big, like there’s barely room inside him for anything else.

He hears voices. Talking, but muffled through the wall.

He squints open one eye. The room is dark, but light comes through gaps in the curtains, streaks of yellow streetlight.

The city. Natori-san.

But this isn’t Natori-san’s bedroom. There’s too much stuff in it. An overfilled bookcase. Framed pictures on the walls, one of them slightly crooked. Something about the crooked picture makes him look at it again, as his brain struggles to function.

In a streak of yellow streetlight is a photo of Reiko. She’s in her twenties, like in Shisha’s memories. She’s with someone, a woman about the same age. They’re both smiling.

Takashi stares at it, uncomprehending. He groans and closes his eye.

When he wakes up again, the door is open, and warm light spills in from the next room. There’s a man standing there, silhouetted.

“Natsume?” Natori-san calls, gently. He walks up to the bed, sits on the edge, making the mattress dip. “Tell me, how on earth do these things keep happening to you?!”

Takashi gives a pathetic groan. He’s earned some pathetic groaning.

“Tangled up with another god,” Natori-san sighs. “Tanuma told me everything. He’s sleeping on the couch. I made some calls. Everyone’s on their way.”

“Everyone?” Takashi echoes, tiredly.

“Everyone,” Natori-san says, firmly. “Touko and Shigeru, and Tanuma-san and Taki, and I think Kitamoto and Nishimura are coming. And I called Matoba, he’ll be here soon.”

“What?” Takashi says, startled.

“Natsume, this is incredibly serious,” Natori-san says. “We need all the help we can get.”

“But—“ Takashi starts, and stops because he has no idea what he even wants to say. It’s just so hard to think.

And then he remembers. Matoba-san. The corruption. His Name on a piece of paper, burning.

He swallows.

“I know about the corruption,” Natori-san says, as if reading his mind. Maybe just his face. “We’re going to fix this. I promise, it’s going to be okay.”

Takashi shakes his head once. It can’t be okay. “It can’t,” he says, somehow managing to say it aloud. Shisha said. It’s too powerful, too deep and extensive.

Natori-san ignores him. “I do love the robes,” he says, touching the kimono sleeve as he coaxes Takashi to his feet. “Beautiful fabric. Too bad if I wore them, I’d be arrested for public indecency. My publicist would never forgive me, or maybe she’d buy me flowers, who can say?”

Takashi wants to laugh at that. He really wants to.

“Come meet our generous host,” Natori-san says, as he helps Takashi through the door. “She got you some soup.”

“Soup,” Takashi echoes. Soup sounds nice.

He stops short, jerks from Natori-san’s grip, and barely catches himself against the wall.

It’s the shrine yokai. The one that stalked him. What is she— How—

Wait.

“You’re human?” Takashi asks, surprised.

“Last time I checked,” the not-yokai says. The woman. She’s sitting at her kitchen table with a mug of tea.

Takashi looks around. “This is your apartment?”

“Come sit down,” the woman says, and stands, pulls out a chair.

Natori-san helps Takashi to the chair. Leaves and then comes back with the blanket from the bed, and wraps it around him.

“I thought you were human, too,” the woman says. “I suppose you are. But you’re a little harder to see now than when I first saw you.”

Takashi looks down at himself. He looks solid. But then he realizes. What Natori-san said about his robes—

Not human. That’s what Shisha said they were. Not yokai either, but— “You have Sight?” Takashi realizes.

“Some,” the woman says. “Not as much as your grandmother, but she was one of a kind.”

Reiko. The photo on the wall. The other woman in the picture. Was that— “You knew my grandmother?”

Takashi automatically braces himself for the worst. For the same disapproval and disgust he always gets when he asks humans about her. But the woman gives a fond smile.

“I knew her very well,” she says. “My name is Miura Yua. Reiko and I—“ She pauses, looking— Wistful? “Let me get you that soup, and I’ll tell you.”

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Natori-san says. “Hiiragi is standing guard outside. Urihime and Sasago are watching the castle. So far no one’s coming after you. You can rest.” He puts a comforting hand on Takashi’s shoulder, then goes outside.

The soup is good. Bought from a store, but warm and filling, so normal and mundane it immediately grounds Takashi back in the human world. And he’s glad for that, because otherwise he’d think he was still asleep and dreaming. Not that he ever dared to dream of this.

“We met in college,” Miura-san explains. “The prefectural university, back when it was a women’s college. Reiko wasn’t actually attending, she just happened to be in town. I was walking to class when I saw her standing on the street, talking to someone who wasn’t fully there. A spirit who looked like a man. She was talking to him so boldly, I realized she didn’t know he wasn’t human.”

She takes a sip of her tea. “Those of us with Sight have to stick together. So I introduced myself. At first she was annoyed, until she realized I was doing her a favor, keeping her from embarrassing herself in public. Then she was very annoyed.” She chuckles. “She stormed off and I thought I’d never see her again. But then I did, in the last place I expected. In the basement of one of the college buildings, at a rather illicit reading of Yoshiya Nobuko’s ‘Two Virgins in the Attic.’ I don’t suppose you know it?”

Takashi shakes his head.

“It’s a story of two college girls in love,” Miura-san says, fondly. “And in the end, they stay together. A rare story to hear, back then.”

Takashi’s eyes go wide. “You mean—“

“Yes,” Miura-san says, a faint blush on her cheeks. “I wish we had longer. But Reiko wasn’t the staying type. I’m grateful we had as much as we did. A few very wonderful years.”

“Years?!” Takashi asks, astonished. He can hardly imagine Reiko liking someone enough to stay around them for an hour. Or finding someone who would—

Accept her? Love her? For years?!

Maybe he is still dreaming, soup or no soup.

“I’m sorry about Madara,” Miura-san says, sobering. “But he’s a tough old wolf, he’ll be all right. I should have known that was him, he and Reiko liked to play twins. They got up to so much trouble together.” She says it fondly.

“You knew Nyanko-Sensei, too?” Takashi asks, even more astonished.

“Nyanko-Sensei?” Miura-san asks, confused.

“Oh right,” Takashi says, realizing. “He didn’t get sealed into the lucky cat until after—“ After Reiko died. So back when he was with Reiko, he was just a big invisible wolf all the time. Or he was Reiko.

“Nyanko-Sensei,” Miura-san chuckles. “Did you give him that name? That’s simply adorable. Reiko would have hated it.”

Takashi blushes.

“Is he your teacher, then?” Miura-san asks.

“Sometimes,” Takashi says. “Mostly he’s my bodyguard. Because, um, things like this—“ He cuts off, throat suddenly too tight to continue.

Things like this.

He suddenly needs to see Kaname immediately. He stands up without a word, the blanket left behind. Walks out of the kitchen and into the living room. Kaname is asleep on the couch, just like Natori-san said. He’s all bundled up under a blanket. Aside from his white hair, he looks like his normal self.

But he’s not. Maybe they’re not dead. But they’re not human anymore. He made Kaname not human anymore.

He just stands there and stares at Kaname, and doesn’t know what to do.

“You’re shivering,” Miura-san says, suddenly beside him. “Do you want to lie down with him? Maybe we can move him to the bed.”

Miura-san goes over to Kaname and gently shakes him. Takashi wants to tell her not to, to tell her not to touch Kaname, that no one should touch him, please don’t—

But it’s too late. Kaname stirs, rubs his face. Miura-san speaks softly to him. Kaname looks up at Takashi.

And then Kaname is holding him. And Takashi is holding him back so tightly.

Takashi just wants them to stay like this forever. But Miura-san ushers them back to the bedroom, into the bed. She brings the cover back from the kitchen and tucks them in. Grabs the blanket from the sofa and drapes that over them, too, then leaves them to rest.

Takashi vaguely realizes he’s shaking. But he doesn’t feel cold.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Kaname, pleading. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Kaname hushes him. Kisses his cheek.

Kaname’s face is wet. He’s crying. He shouldn’t cry. He shouldn’t be sad. He shouldn’t be hurt. Takashi can be all those things but Kaname should never be. Never ever.

“I’m sorry,” Takashi says again, unable to say anything else.

“C’mere,” Kaname says, and pulls him close. Tangles them together under the warm blankets, the layers of their kimonos.

Takashi feels something within him that isn’t the corruption. It’s not even the bond with Inari, which is faint now but still very real.

It’s the bond Inari made between Takashi and Kaname.

Takashi shouldn’t be glad it exists. He shouldn’t be glad that Kaname is here with him, and that Kaname is also not-dead and not-human. Takashi should carry things like this alone. He should suffer alone. That’s how his life always was, and how he always expected it to be.

But Reiko wasn’t alone. Not always. Someone loved her. Someone stayed with her.

And Takashi isn’t alone now.

And somehow, realizing that, the awful, huge corruption feels a tiny bit smaller.

Chapter Text

A loud thump drags Takashi from sleep.

He doesn’t want to wake up, not when he feels so warm and safe, all curled up with Kaname. But he cracks his eyes open and sees daylight coming in through the curtains. He hears voices through the wall again, more of them, familiar.

His eyes open wide.

“Wake up,” he says, just above a whisper, giving Kaname a shake.

Kaname stirs, grumbles. Then he gasps awake, grabs at Takashi, frightened. Then he slumps, relieved. “What— Are you okay?”

Takashi can’t even begin to answer that, so he doesn’t. “I think they’re here.”

Takashi should be rushing out to see them, relieved they’re here, happy to be reunited after he thought he would never see them again. But he just stares at the bedroom door like it’s a dangerous yokai that’s going to eat him.

He misses Sensei. He misses Nyanko-sensei so much.

“They’re here?” Kaname says, exactly as happy and relieved as anyone in their position should be. He pushes back the covers to leave the bed, but Takashi grabs his arm.

“They can’t see us,” Takashi warns him. Natori-san can, Hiiragi can, and amazingly so can Miura-san.

But not Tanuma-san. Not Touko-san or Shigeru-san or Taki or Nishimura or Kitamoto. They can’t see yokai at all, not even as shadows.

But Kaname stands up anyway, straightens his kimono. Holds out his hand for Takashi to stand up, too, to get out of bed and face the consequences.

Takashi gets out of bed. Kaname fusses over Takashi’s mussed kimono and his mussed, white hair.

“You have bed head,” Kaname tells him.

“So do you,” Takashi says. His heart is already racing. He doesn’t want to see— He doesn’t want them to look at him and not see him. It’s too much like his nightmares.

All of this is a nightmare. He never thought he’d miss being able to wake up screaming. He can’t stop screaming inside, trying to wake up.

Kaname’s hair is always messy, Takashi thinks, but the soft affection of it just makes him feel worse.

He has to face the consequences of his existence. He always does. But this time—

Kaname takes his hand and walks to the door, pulls him along. And when they walk through, they’re all there, crowding the small apartment. The Fujiwaras and Taki and Tanuma-san and Kitamoto and Nishimura. And they look in the direction of the door that opened itself, and keep looking for what they can’t see.

Of course Natori-san isn’t here, or Miura-san. Of course.

Takashi wants to just— Turn around. Close the door and never come out again. But Kaname steps forward.

“Uh, we’re here,” he calls, as if that will help anything.

“Takashi-kun?” Touko-san calls, worried eyes searching. “Kaname-kun?”

“They’re here, I just have to finish the first circle,” Taki says.

Takashi finally realizes what caused the thump that woke him up. They’ve been moving the furniture around. There’s large stretches of white fabric all over the floors and carpeting, and Taki has a black marker in her hand. She’s drawing one of her forbidden yokai-revealing circles right where the kitchen table used to be.

Takashi does not want her to finish drawing it. Bad enough that he’s invisible, he doesn’t want to be seen.

But she does finish, and steps back. “Natsume? Tanuma? You can step in now.”

And they do. The moment they step into the circle, everyone’s eyes snap right to them. They all look so relieved.

“Dad,” Kaname says, as his dad rushes into the circle and hugs him tight.

“I was so worried,” Tanuma-san says, desperately relieved. Takashi’s never seen him so emotional. “Your hair! What happened to your hair? And what on earth are you wearing?”

Before Kaname can answer, Touko-san and Shigeru-san walk up to the edge of the circle. “Takashi-kun,” Touko-san says, reaching for him.

“Step inside,” Taki urges.

Touko-san takes a step towards him, another. But it’s not until she touches his arm that Takashi can move again. And then they’re holding each other, and then Shigeru-san is holding both of them, too.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, burning with shame. “I lost the cell phone. I’ll pay you back.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Shigeru-san tells him. “We’re just glad you’re all right.”

Takashi isn’t all right, and he’s never going to be. But he can’t bring himself to contradict Shigeru-san. To see the hope fade from their eyes so soon. He needs to see it for at least a little longer. It feels so horribly selfish.

He got hurt again. Worse than ever. He was trying so hard, and now—

Even the apology is caught in his throat, choked by shame. And then the pain hits him, and he doubles over.

No. He doesn’t want them to see—!

He feels them step back as the corruption writhes and chokes him, as smoke pours out of him. And worse, they can see it. He sees their horrified faces, their fear. He falls to his knees.

“Takashi!” Kaname says, close and urgent, but not touching him.

“Everyone step back!” Taki says.

“What the hell is that?” Nishimura asks.

“Is he possessed?” Kitamoto asks.

“No, he’s just— Sick,” Taki tells them.

“I talked to him, before,” Kaname says, upset. “I told him we’d be rescued. It helped, but—“

“This is the corruption?” Tanuma-san asks.

“Oh, Takashi-kun,” Touko-san says, looking devastated. Heartbroken.

Takashi gasps as the corruption swells even bigger. It hurts—!

“Oh!” Taki says. She stands up. “Excuse me,” she says, and drags a protesting Touko-san and Shigeru-san to the front door, and pushes them outside. “Sorry, please wait here.” Then she closes it.

They’re gone.

The corruption eases. Takashi collapses, breathing hard, but at least he can breathe.

“Oh!” Kaname says, realizing.

Takashi knew this would be awful, but it’s even worse. Why couldn’t he have just died? He should grab Taki’s marker and write his Name on something, and then all this will finally be over.

“It’ll be okay,” Taki tells him, soothing. She stands up, looking determined. “Lying on the floor isn’t helping him. Help me with the furniture.”

“We finally get to be part of one of Natsume’s big magic adventures and we have to move furniture,” Nishimura complains.

A laugh gets dragged out of Takashi’s chest, somehow.

“Huh,” Nishimura says, looking at Takashi. “Hey Taki, is that good?”

“Yes, actually,” Taki says, impressed.

“Good,” Nishimura says, extremely pleased with himself. “Don’t worry, Natsume. Me and Kitamoto are gonna fix you right up.”

“We are?” Kitamoto says, skeptical.

Somehow Takashi is smiling. He can’t seem to stop himself.

“Oh, I get it,” Kitamoto says, and also looks pleased with himself. He picks up a chair and carries it over, puts it in the corner of the circle. He pats the chair. “C’mon, Natsume. Stop hogging the floor and grab a seat.”

“Yeah,” Kaname says, easing. He takes Takashi’s arm and pulls him up, helps him to the chair.

The table is brought over and set back in place, then the other chairs. Kaname sits with Takashi while Taki goes to finish the other circles and the other furniture is moved back. Once the kitchen and living room are done, they roll out more white fabric for the hallway, and then move into the bedroom.

Kaname takes Takashi’s hand and holds it. Takashi musters another smile, feeling impossibly grateful.

The front door opens. Natori-san and Miura-san walk inside. They’re carrying groceries. “Is there a reason your parents are stuck outside?” Natori-san asks Takashi. Then he sees all the circles, and looks vaguely unwell. “If I get banned from exorcism, at least I’ll still have my acting career.”

“Sorry, Natori-san!” Taki calls from the bedroom.

“It’s fine,” Natori-san says, visibly lying. He puts the groceries on the table.

“Can we come back in?” Touko-san asks, from the doorway.

“Please let them in,” Takashi pleads. He can’t believe Taki did that, and it worked. He can’t let that happen again.

Taki walks up to the Fujiwaras. “Nothing bad is happening,” she tells them, firmly. “We’re all going to have a nice, calm time. All right?”

“I see,” Touko-san says, understanding. She looks over at Takashi. “Feeling better, dear?” she asks, lightly, as if Takashi had stubbed his toe an hour ago and she was just checking.

“Yeah, thanks,” Takashi says, just as lightly.

“That’s good,” Touko-san says. “We’re going to cook breakfast now. Would you like to have some?”

Takashi nods.

“I’ll make you your favorite,” Touko-san says, with a smile. “You must have quite an appetite after yesterday.”

“I’ll help,” Miura-san offers.

“No, no, you just sit,” Touko-san insists. “We’ve taken over your home, a little cooking is the least I can do.”

“I’ll make some tea,” Shigeru-san says. “If you want a cup, say ‘tea’.”

There’s a small chorus of ‘tea’s.

“Tea,” Takashi says, feeling awful and glad and confused, but— Somehow it all balances out to okay.

And then there’s a knock on the door, and Miura-san goes to open it.

Matoba-san looks at the circles drawn all over the floor, and at Takashi and Kaname. “You never cease to surprise me, Natsume.”

Natori-san gives a long-suffering sigh. “Another tea, Shigeru?”

“Coming right up,” Shigeru-san says, and goes to get another cup.

Chapter Text

Between Taki’s circles and Touko-san’s cooking, breakfast feels stunningly normal. Everyone can fully see them and treats them like they’re having a nice little vacation in the city. Takashi’s corruption stays dormant. He even seems happy.

Kaname is grateful for the breather. But after breakfast, when Natori-san and Matoba-san step outside to talk in private, Kaname is torn between staying close to Takashi and going out with them to actually start working on solutions.

Leaving Takashi’s side at all feels terrifying. Like as soon as Takashi is out of his sight, he’s just going to disappear. But if Inari decides to go play with her new Prince and finds out that her cage is full of her emissaries, things will get very bad very fast.

Besides, pretending everything is fine is what got them into this mess in the first place. Takashi is pretending he’s fine right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s not.

So Kaname gives Takashi a kiss on the cheek and tells him he’s going outside for a few minutes, and he’ll be right back. Takashi is too busy blushing cutely and being teased by Nishimura to even think of following him.

On the way out, Kaname blushes, too. After everything they just went through, he’s feeling a lot bolder, even for things like that.

“…never seen anything like this,” Matoba-san is saying, as Kaname approaches the exorcists.

“I hoped maybe something in your archives,” Natori-san says.

“Nanase is leading a search,” Matoba-san says. “Based on what you told me—“ He turns. “Tanuma-kun. I’m so glad you’ve joined us.”

Natori-san looks past Kaname, obviously looking for Takashi.

“I left him inside,” Kaname says. “Please tell me you have some kind of plan.”

“To find a god that’s been completely missing for decades?” Matoba-san says. “No. But as my best suggestion has already been declined—“

“We’re not exorcising him,” Natori-san says, voice quiet but sharp.

“He’s corrupted,” Matoba-san says, bluntly. “This is what exorcism is for. Even if he’s still alive somehow—“

“We’re not going to rip it out of him,” Natori-san says. He glances at Kaname, clearly unhappy that he’s listening to this.

“He’s dangerous,” Matoba-san says. “Not just to himself. To everyone. If we want to have any hope of fixing this Inari situation—“

“I’m not sacrificing Natsume’s life because your clan missed this.”

“We can’t keep track of every god,” Matoba-san scoffs.

“And here I thought you were all-powerful,” Natori-san scoffs back.

“We’re not dead,” Kaname says, finally forcing his way into the conversation. “Shisha said we’re not dead, we’re not yokai.”

“And what difference does that make?” Matoba-san asks. “Your two souls are bonded together now. Can you feel it yet? There’s still a chance we can save you, but if his corruption spreads to you—“

“Stop scaring him,” Natori-san says, angry.

“He should be scared,” Matoba-san says.

“What does exorcism do, exactly?” Kaname asks. Takashi has never wanted Kaname anywhere near it. He knows what Shisha said, and a little from Taki, but— “Why is it important? Why does Takashi think it’s bad?”

“You don’t have to exorcise me,” Takashi says, startling all three of them. And when Kaname turns to see him—

He didn’t come out alone. Taki is next to him, and Dad is just behind her, and Shigeru-san, and Nishimura and Kitamoto are staring at the exorcists with wide eyes. They obviously heard at least some of the argument.

But they didn’t hear Takashi. There’s no circles out here.

Kaname does not like the look in Takashi’s eyes. He’s carrying Taki’s marker.

“Natori-san, I need a sheet of paper,” Takashi says, with the same eerie calm he had back in the palace, in the cage.

Natori-san reaches into his jacket. “What do you want to try? I didn’t think you liked spells.”

“Matoba-san is right,” Takashi says, and Natori-san goes still. “I’m going to write my Name. Then you can burn it.”

“Burn your name?” Matoba-san asks, confused.

“Absolutely not,” Natori-san says.

“What does that mean?” Kaname asks. He knows about the Book, about Names. He knows it’s important that they be returned to the yokai Reiko took them from. When they were in the cage, Takashi said writing his Name in it would fix things, but Kaname doesn’t know how.

“My grandmother made a Book,” Takashi starts, telling Matoba-san.

“Natsume, don’t,” Natori-san warns, alarmed.

“She took the true Names of yokai and bound them to the pages,” Takashi continues, ignoring him. “If you destroy the page with their Name, it destroys the yokai.”

Matoba-san look at Takashi with fascination. “First those circles, and now this. Any other forbidden spells I should know about?”

“Don’t,” Natori-san warns, begs.

“Where’s this book now?” Matoba-san asks.

“Inari has it,” Takashi says. “So you can’t use it. But if I give you my Name, then— You can stop me from hurting anyone. You can burn my Name.”

“Agreed,” Matoba-san says. “Natori, hand over the paper.”

“Absolutely not!” Natori-san says. He covers his jacket protectively. “I didn’t bring you here so you could kill him!”

“I can get paper anywhere,” Matoba-san reminds him. “I won’t burn it right away. I would prefer a solution that ends with Natsume alive, but we have to be—“

“Excuse me,” Shigeru-san says, interrupting. Shigeru-san is rarely anything but quiet and gentle and polite, so the anger in his eyes is startling to Kaname. “But if you are discussing the life of our son, my wife and I must be involved.” He looks at where Taki’s marker must be floating in Takashi’s invisible hand. “Please come back inside so we can all discuss this.”

Takashi looks like he would rather be destroyed immediately than go inside. But he obeys.

Kaname has never been so grateful that Takashi is utterly terrified of disappointing the Fujiwaras.

It still amazes him that Takashi decided to tell them everything one day, just like that.

Takashi said it was because of Kaname, that he did it for him. If that’s true, then even if Kaname hasn’t been able to help Takashi enough in other ways, at least he managed that.

Once they’re all inside, Takashi speaks first, even as he avoids everyone’s eyes. “My condition doesn’t matter. We have to focus on finding Dakiniten so we can help Inari. If Reiko caused this—“ He looks at Matoba-san. “My grandmother may have taken Dakiniten’s true Name.”

Matoba-san stares at Takashi, amazed. “I knew Natsume Reiko was powerful, but this—“

“We don’t know for sure if she did it,” Takashi defends. “But she was there, taking Names. Reiko never used the Book, she never ordered anyone to do anything.”

“So what, she created the most powerful magic weapon in the world, then did nothing with it?” Matoba-san asks, disbelieving.

“It was just to pass the time,” Takashi defends, still clutching the black marker.

“And how do you know that?” Matoba-san challenges. “She died before you were even conceived. Did she leave a message with your mother?”

“No, I see Reiko all the time,” Takashi admits. “In the memories of yokai, when I give back their Names. I see their memories of her.”

Miura-san gasps. Her hand is over her mouth.

“She wasn’t cruel,” Takashi insists. “She was just— Alone and—“ He glances over at Miura-san, then away. “I don’t know why she did it. But she didn’t use it to command yokai. Even if she did take Dakiniten’s Name— Something else must have happened.”

“Who was around back then?” Natori-san asks Matoba-san. “There have to be records. Who had that part of the city?”

“The castle was a ruin,” Matoba-san says. “And it’s been quiet there since before it was rebuilt.”

“Inari won’t let anyone leave her castle,” Kaname says. “That’s why it’s quiet. She lost too many people so— She doesn’t want anyone else to leave.”

“She’s grieving?” Touko-san asks.

“Grief is for the living,” Matoba-san says.

“She’s alive,” Takashi says, annoyed. “She needs help, not— Torture.”

“Is that what you think I do?” Matoba-san challenges.

Takashi doesn’t answer, but his expression says plenty.

“My grandfather studied exorcism,” Taki says. “He couldn’t really do it himself, but he wanted to know everything about the spirit world. In his notes, he said it was necessary, that it would stop corruption, but— That it should be a last resort.”

“As exorcists, we stand between the human and spirit worlds,” Matoba-san says, all authority. “We keep order and protect the living. When the two worlds mix, this is what happens.” He gestures at Takashi. “Your human pain has become spiritual corruption.”

“I didn’t want this to happen!” Takashi defends.

“You regularly absorb the memories of yokai,” Matoba-san says, as if that says it all. “You constantly leave yourself wide open to them. I’ve offered many times to help you protect yourself, but you always refuse. I was relieved to hear from Natori that you finally accepted some help, now that your guardians are aware of your situation. But obviously it wasn’t enough.”

“I won’t pretend to understand most of this,” Shigeru-san says, intervening. “Takashi has been dealing with the spirits his whole life, and we respect his decisions for himself. But what is corruption? If exorcism treats it, why is it dangerous?”

“How can we help him?” Touko-san asks, pleading.

Takashi takes a small, sharp breath. He tenses in a way that Kaname now knows is him resisting when his corruption gets worse.

“It’s when yokai have bad feelings for too long,” Kaname says, echoing Takashi’s explanation to him. He thinks about what he’s seen for himself. “It makes them lose control and lash out. They’re in pain.”

“A fully corrupted yokai has no self, no mind,” Matoba-san says. “It becomes formless rage and pain. A monster that attacks and harms both humans and other spirits, poisons the earth. It cannot be captured, only destroyed. A fully corrupted god would be incredibly destructive. Exorcists have died working to stop such horrors. That is why we must do what we do. We cleanse the spirit world of small corruptions before they can accumulate.”

“And we’re supposed to keep an eye on the gods,” Natori-san says, glaring at Matoba-san. “The castle area belongs to your clan. This is your responsibility.”

“And I’m trying to fix it,” Matoba-san replies. “The shrines are all well-maintained. It’s not my fault that this Inari left her shrine. If she’d stayed there, we would have caught this.”

“This Inari?” Kaname asks, confused.

“Every shrine houses a god,” Natori-san explains. “When a new shrine is built, a god is invited to stay there. That god is both one god and countless individual gods. It’s like lighting one candle with another. The flame is the same, but it burns separately.”

“There are thousands of Inari shrines,” Dad says. “Tens of thousands. So this is only one Inari?”

“But also all Inari,” Natori-san says. “Because they’re all the same flame.”

“So where did this Inari come from, if she should be in her shrine?” Dad asks.

“The castle and the town were both destroyed in 1877,” Kaname says, recalling the museum pamphlet. “Maybe she fled to the version of the castle in the spirit world, and stayed there?”

“That makes sense,” Matoba-san says. “And in doing so, she became isolated. Whatever else we do, she needs to be re-enshrined. It doesn’t have to be a new one, the flames can be rejoined. There’s Inari shrines all over the city, anything with a red torii gate will do.”

That gives Kaname a small jolt. Every shrine Takashi sheltered in yesterday was an Inari shrine. He knew what they were, of course, but until now he didn’t think about it, because Inari shrines are absolutely everywhere. Especially on Kyushu, with all its rice fields.

And Sensei is Inari’s pet.

“We still have to exorcise Inari before we rejoin the flames,” Matoba-san continues. “We can’t let the corruption spread.”

“And exorcism is?” Shigeru-san prompts, with some impatience.

All this business of gods surely matters less to him than finding a way to help Takashi.

“Shisha said it’s— Removing what hurts,” Kaname tells him. “Losing Dakiniten hurt Inari, so— He wanted us to remove Inari’s love for her.”

“But that’s awful!” Touko-san says, dismayed.

“Spirits are not human,” Matoba-san says. “It’s easy for them to become stuck, trapped in the emotion of a single moment, unable to free themselves. Perhaps that’s why they come to your son so often, asking for his help. He would be wiser to leave it to those trained for it.”

“You don’t even try to help them,” Takashi says, angry. “You just rip out whatever they’re feeling. Or you trap them so they’re stuck in some pot. But it’s fine because they’re out of the way. They’re not troubling anyone anymore.”

Takashi tenses again, his upset feeding his corruption.

“I don’t need your help,” Takashi says, standing up even though he looks like he’s going to fall over. “I’ll fix this myself. I’ll find Dakiniten. I’ll help Inari. I’ll save Sensei. You can leave, you can go home and hurt yokai somewhere else, I won’t—“

And then he goes very pale, and his eyes flare red. Somehow he keeps the smoke from coming out of him, but whatever effort it takes, it’s more than he can spare. The black marker drops to the floor.

Kaname moves to catch Takashi, but Shigeru-san is closer. Takashi stays conscious, barely, but trembles in Shigeru-san’s arms.

“This discussion is over,” Shigeru-san says, firmly. “Whatever is hurting Takashi, it’s part of him and I will not let it be ripped out. And I will not allow you to harm the spirits he has dedicated himself to protecting.”

“It’s not up to you,” Matoba-san says, with all his authority.

“I don’t care,” Shigeru-san says. “Find another way. He believes there is one. There is nothing worse than cruelty for the sake of convenience.”

“You’re right,” Natori-san says. He turns to Matoba-san. “We need to do this Natsume’s way.” When Matoba-san starts to protest, Natori-san interrupts him. “We still have exorcism as an absolute last resort. But we have to at least try to find Dakiniten. If we can find her, we can fix Inari, and she can fix Natsume and Tanuma. Or do you think all the experience and knowledge of the Matoba clan can’t compare to an untrained teenager?”

“Fine,” Matoba-san says, though he doesn’t like it.

Kaname doesn’t care if he likes it.

“We’ll check our records,” Matoba-san says, standing. “If there’s anything to find, we’ll find it.” He gives a short, polite bow, then breezes right out of the house.

Natori-san slumps, and sighs with relief.

“Takashi-kun,” Touko-san calls, her voice gentle but full of worry and fear. She’s standing close to Shigeru-san, and her hand is on Takashi’s forehead. Kaname thinks of all the times he’s seen her do that, checking for Takashi’s fevers.

Takashi’s awake, sort of, but his eyes are still glowing red.

The corruption’s getting worse. Or maybe it’s exactly as bad but Takashi just doesn’t have the strength to fight it anymore. He wore himself out, arguing with Matoba-san. Pushed himself too hard, like always.

Kaname always feels like Takashi is— He’s so close to slipping away. In so many ways, all the time. That something will take him and he won’t come back. That he’ll give away too much of himself. That he’ll take too much. That he just doesn’t want to stay, or doesn’t know how to want it.

And now if Matoba-san fails— If it takes too long to find Dakiniten and Takashi’s strength gives out—

“Tanuma,” Taki gasps, with alarm, and Kaname looks down to see wisps of black smoke coming off himself.

He doesn’t want to know if his eyes are glowing red.

Chapter Text

He is aware of the pain. It writhes inside him, filling up every inch of him, pushing at his limits and past them.

He is aware of the smoke that wants to pour out of him, burning and toxic. He is aware that if he lets it out of him, it will hurt them. He can’t hurt them. He will keep it all inside until it burns away his entire existence, because if he lets it out it will burn them, and they’re holding him.

He can feel them carrying him, moving him. They put him down.

If they left, he could let it all go. He could let out the deafening scream inside him and the smoke and let it turn him into itself, into the shapeless thing trying to birth itself out of him. And then the pain will stop, because he won’t exist to feel it.

He tries to tell them to leave, but his lungs are full of writhing black.

But they’re leaning close, speaking to him. Calling a name. Is it his?

“Leave,” he rasps, with all the air he can muster.

“We’re not leaving,” one of them says.

“Tell us how to help him!” says another.

“Corruption is— It’s pain. Emotional pain,” says another. “I don’t— He’s not human, not yokai—“

“He’s just a boy,” says another. “The rest doesn’t matter. Be with him, love him. Help him release the pain, however you can.”

“We’ll try,” says the first one. “Go help your son.”

“If you need me,” says the fourth one, and then he’s gone.

“Takashi-kun,” says the second one. A hand touches his face. “Please talk to us. Tell us what you’re feeling. Please.”

He can’t. If he tells them, the pain will get worse. It’s already worse than it could possibly be but it will still get worse, it always gets worse.

“Please talk to us,” says the first one. “If you let the feelings out, the corruption will be weaker. Easier to fight.”

“We need you to keep fighting,” says the second one. “Just keep holding on for a little longer. We’ll— We’ll go to Inari ourselves if we have to, to make her let you go!”

Fear spikes through the pain. “No!” he rasps, horrified. They can’t!

“We will,” says the second one, determined even though her voice trembles. “If you don’t let us help you, we’ll march right up to her castle and demand to see her. She’s supposed to care for us and protect us, not— Not steal our children! She had no right!”

There’s something just so— Her, about that. Images flit through the blackness. Dark, warm eyes. Brown hair with streaks of grey. Thin hands with a practiced, firm touch, cool against his fevered skin. Soft, happy laughing, as they rush inside with the laundry as it rains.

“You promised to tell us when you’re hurt,” says the first one. “Remember? No more hiding away when you’re sick or injured. You promised to tell us and let us help you. I know how important a promise is to you.”

More images, sensations. Chamomile tea and soft music. Hands cleaning his wounds, wrapping them in bandages, their touch careful, gentle, a little firm. A kind voice telling him he belongs, that he’s home.

Safety. Joy.

Takashi gasps. The black retreats, and the smoke and the pain. He sees Touko-san and Shigeru-san, sitting on the bed, leaning over him.

“Oh!” Touko-san says, her eyes wet. “That’s better.”

Takashi sobs with relief. It was so— He almost—

“Easy,” Shigeru-san soothes.

He promised—

“I’m sorry,” he says, devastated at his own failure.

“It’s all right,” Shigeru-san soothes. “This hurt must be very big. Start with a small piece. As small as you can.”

None of it feels small. It’s a massive knot, too dense to untangle. He suddenly thinks of Nyanko-sensei playing with a ball of Touko-san’s yarn, getting all tangled up. He says he’s not a cat, but he can be such a cat sometimes.

“I want Sensei back,” Takashi says, voice trembling. “I left him there. I have to save him.”

“We’ll get him back,” Touko-san says. “And I’ll make him a whole feast to celebrate. All the squid he can eat.”

“And that’s a lot of squid,” Shigeru-san says.

A laugh forces itself out of Takashi’s chest. It would be so much squid.

“I left the Book,” he says. It was so close, right in front of him. But he couldn’t reach it. He couldn’t save himself and Kaname and save the Book and Sensei. He couldn’t save anything.

The black mass roils, and he groans.

“Tell us what hurts,” Shigeru-san urges.

Takashi tries, but it’s too big. Small. He needs small. But nothing feels small. He tries something else. He lost his cell phone, but he likes— He likes being able to tell them little things about his day. To not have to lie to them anymore. To just tell the truth. He likes the little hearts and messages they send back.

“There was a yokai with glass in its foot. I used the first aid kit. It was scared of me, but then I gave it a dango.”

“A dango?” Touko-san says, surprised.

“It was hungry,” Takashi says. “I hate wearing the omamori. I know it’s important. But it doesn’t stop anything from hurting me. And it hurts my friends.”

“Your yokai friends?” Touko-san asks.

“I miss seeing them more. They used to show up whenever they wanted. And now I have to go to them. I hated it when they kept me up all night. Or when something broke into my room. I want to feel safe there. But it’s lonely.”

And before they even have time to respond, he’s telling them another thing. A bigger thing.

“I don’t know what I’ll do when I graduate. I’m not good at anything. I don’t want to leave. I just found you and I already have to leave.”

“Why would you have to leave?” Touko-san asks.

“People only have to take care of me because I’m a child,” Takashi says, not even knowing how he’s admitting something that big, even as something bigger pushes up behind it. It catches in his throat, makes it hard to breathe. “I’m scared. It was— Easier, before. Losing everything.”

His eyes fill with tears and he blinks them away.

“Why would we ever stop loving you?” Touko-san asks, and there’s tears in her eyes, too. “We just found you, too.”

He sobs and reaches for her, and then she’s holding him. His face is against her, and she strokes her hand through his hair.

“Takashi, when we— When I saw you, at that funeral,” Shigeru-san says. “I knew that if we took you in, it wouldn’t just be for a few years. We considered the decision very seriously. And we chose to make you our son.”

Takashi looks up at him.

“Not a guest,” Shigeru-san continues. “Our son. We applied to adopt you, but the adoption rules are too strict. But you are our son in every way that matters. That means you are part of our home forever, and we will never make you leave.”

Takashi is too shocked to respond.

“If you want to go somewhere, to live with Kaname or to go to university or anything else,” Touko-san says. “We want you to do what makes you happy. We will be part of your life to support you in whatever you choose.” She gives a bashful look. “Perhaps we should have spoken to you this directly sooner.”

“We didn’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable,” Shigeru-san says. “We wanted to give you time to adjust, to trust us. And then, well. You gave us quite a surprise.”

His Sight. It’s been months now, since he told them. Months, and all they’ve done is love him more.

It makes him feel awful. How much they’re doing for him when he—

The blackness swells again, and he turns away from them, ashamed.

“Takashi?” Touko-san calls, worried.

He can’t tell them this. He can’t. He tries to force it down, to shove all his pain into the cardboard box in his heart, where it belongs. But the harder he pushes, the more it pushes back, swelling, overflowing. He groans, curls in on himself.

“Takashi, please,” Shigeru-san urges. “Whatever it is, it’s not worse to us than losing you.”

That makes the blackness roil. “I’m sorry,” he grits out, jaw tight against the pain.

They weren’t supposed to want to keep him.

That’s why he told them.

Touko-san touches his back, and then pulls away with a cry of pain. The black smoke! He hurt them with it. No!

“I’m sorry,” he pleads. He wants to crawl away from them. To hide somewhere until the pain finishes him off.

But he can’t—

He thinks about those first nights at their home. The way he felt limping back in the grey light before dawn.

He didn’t think they could be real. These kind people. They had to be yokai, pretending to be nice, toying with him. He wanted to let them finish him off. But instead they—

Instead they loved him. And that was what scared him the most. More than any yokai attack, any monster swallowing him whole. It terrifies him. All of them. Touko-san and Shigeru-san. Kaname. Even Taki and Nishimura and Kitamoto and Natori-san.

It doesn’t make sense for humans to love him.

So when he realized that Kaname actually, really loved him, and wanted them to stay together forever—

Maybe this is the answer. Maybe if he can just show them what he really is—

Their eyes will fill with disappointment and disgust. They’ll get up and walk away and be glad to let Inari take him back to her palace, her golden cage. They’ll tell Inari to keep him forever, along with Sensei and the Book. And then it will all finally be over.

And they should. They should except— He can’t drag Kaname down with him.

Whatever else happens—

“Takashi, please tell us,” Touko-san begs, reaching for him but unable to touch. “Please keep your promise.”

“I wanted you to hate me,” Takashi says, surrendering. “I told you the truth so you’d— So you’d make me leave.”

“But why?” Touko-san asks, confused.

“To save you from me,” Takashi says, dully. “To save Kaname.” He gives a bitter laugh. “I didn’t want to go. So I tried to make you make me. I’m sorry.”

The smoke stops, the corruption easing again. But Takashi feels a whole new kind of awful. He’s afraid to look at them. Afraid to see them hating him. Afraid to see them loving him anyway.

“I don’t want to go,” he admits, terrified that they’ll do what he wanted and make him go. “Please don’t—“

And then he starts sobbing, his whole body wrenched with sobs, as the cardboard box in his heart bursts open and falls apart and there’s only years and years and years of being made to go.

And he remembers waking up after the cliff, in the hospital bed. Smiling to himself in relief, because he’d never be able to go back. The people who’d been unwillingly housing him would no longer be troubled. And before the Fujiwaras walked in, he lay there, drifting on painkillers, and hoped that finally, finally, there wouldn’t be anyone else who had to suffer him.

But then the Fujiwaras came in, and said they wanted him.

“Thank you, son,” Shigeru-san says, so gently. “You kept your promise. Everything’s going to be all right.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Touko-san says. And she lies down on the bed with him and pulls him close.

Only Kaname’s ever done this. Takashi’s tried to remember his birth parents, but all he has of them is a single photo, and the memory of sitting in the now-gone house with his father. Not being held like this. Not anything else.

He doesn’t remember his birth mother at all.

“I wish we’d found you sooner,” Touko-san says, so gently. “But we will never make you leave. Never. We want you to stay. So please, stay.”

Chapter Text

It hurts. The corruption hurts so much. Kaname doesn’t know how Takashi has been able to bear it for all this time.

Kaname can feel it, now. Takashi’s corruption, pushing at him through the bond between them. An all-consuming, acid despair. His own corruption rises to meet it, join with it. Like Takashi and Inari in the throne room, their corruptions feeding on each other. Twinned dark flames, burning them up.

He can’t stop the black smoke from rising out of him, can’t stop the awful writhing thing that’s growing inside him. He watches the Fujiwaras carry Takashi away into the bedroom, Dad and Natori-san close behind them, and he feels so, so scared.

“Stay back,” he tells the others, and tries to get as far away from them as he can, stumbling into the farthest corner of the living room, so far he steps out of the circle.

As soon as they can’t see him anymore, Taki and Kitamoto and Nishimura look around in alarm, trying to catch sight of him again. They start calling for him, reaching out.

But if they can’t see him, they can’t touch him. He can’t hurt them. He stays exactly where he is.

Except Miura-san can still see him. “He’s in the corner,” she tells them, stopping their search. She steps towards him slowly, and stops at a safe distance. “It’s okay, I won’t touch you,” she tells him. “Is it bad?”

Kaname manages a nod.

His dad comes back out of the bedroom. When he doesn’t see Kaname, he looks terrified.

Dad never looks terrified, ever.

“He’s over here,” Miura-san tells him, quickly. “Don’t get too close.”

“Kaname, please come back into the circle,” Dad pleads. “Let us help you.”

If Kaname only had to bear his own corruption, he could do it. But Takashi’s is overpowering. Grief and loneliness and shame so huge it could bring down a god.

Kaname didn’t know. He knew it was bad, he wanted Takashi to open up to him and let him help, but this—

Miura-san’s gasp tells him he must be looking worse. But the pain is so bad he can’t even tell if it’s worse anymore. It’s just endless, all-consuming, stealing everything that he is.

For an eternal moment of agony, he is nothing, only pain.

And then, somehow, relief.

Safety. Joy.

The black retreats, and the pain, and Kaname stumbles forward, back into the circle, and collapses into his dad’s arms. His dad gasps with pain, because there’s still black smoke coming off Kaname, burning him, but he doesn’t let Kaname go.

And then a pure light flashes through Kaname, like when Sensei purifies him. And he sees strange, shimmering threads around his dad, around both of them, and the smoke clears away. And then the shimmering threads fade away, too.

Was that— Idaten?

Kaname slumps, exhausted.

“Kaname,” Dad says, voice thick with worry.

“‘m okay,” Kaname slurs, and tries to figure out if that’s actually true. He can still feel his own corruption, so small to him now after feeling Takashi’s. But the bond between them feels clear, like something is keeping Takashi’s corruption from getting through, at least for now.

Dad and Miura-san haul him up onto the sofa. Kaname just— Breathes, for a while. Exists. Despite Idaten’s protection, he can still feel it when Takashi’s corruption flares up again, unable to reach him but so strong. And then there’s an absolute explosion of despairing loneliness that makes Kaname want to dedicate himself to Idaten in every single one of his rebirths.

And then, somehow, it’s over. Takashi’s corruption eases down to something bearable.

The bedroom door opens again, and Natori-san comes out, looking shocked and pale. And then Shigeru-san comes out, too, and he looks just as shocked, but incredibly determined.

“Kaname,” Shigeru-san says, coming over to them. “Are you all right?”

“You helped him?” Kaname asks, though he already knows.

Shigeru-san nods. “There’s a great deal we need to talk about.”

“Let’s all take a moment, first,” Dad says. He stands up and moves Shigeru-san to take his place on the sofa. “It seems the worst is over. We have time, while we wait for Matoba-san.”

Terrible, fearful grief flashes across Shigeru-san’s face, but then it’s gone. “Yes. You’re right,” he says, collecting himself. “How about some tea?”

“We’ll make it,” Kitamoto says, and tugs at Nishimura to help him. They go into the kitchen and start washing cups, boiling water.

Then Nishimura sticks his head out. “If you want a cup, say ‘tea’.”

“Tea,” Kaname says, weakly, slightly giddy.

When Kaname feels able to, he gets up and goes into the bedroom. Touko-san and Takashi are lying together on the bed, curled up together. Mother and child.

Takashi needs this. He needs what he never got, for all those years. Real family, unconditional love and acceptance.

For all that Kaname suffered from his health, he always knew his dad loved him and would do anything for him. His dad searched up and down for help for him, was always patient, always kind. Made sure that even when they weren’t together, Kaname was cared for and fed and safe.

Takashi always pushes himself so hard because no one ever taught him to be gentle with himself. No one ever showed him. And Kaname meant well, wanting them to have a big adventure together, to share university and a new city and everything after that, but he was pushing Takashi, too, even when he thought he wasn’t.

How could Takashi know how to stay, when all he was taught was leaving?

The fear Kaname has for him, that Takashi is just going to disappear— That’s what’s in his own corruption. The pain he’s been holding on to for too long, afraid of talking about it, as if saying it aloud would make it come true.

Kaname never used to hesitate to ask for help. It was all he could do, most of the time, when his health was at its worst. But once he started to feel better, to actually feel healthy, he just— Didn’t want to need help anymore. He wanted to stand on his own two feet, to be the one giving instead of always given to. Helping out at the temple, taking care of Takashi, trying to map out a future for them both.

Maybe Takashi’s bad habits have been rubbing off on him, just a bit. That desperate determination to never burden anyone ever. Early on, when Kaname was still sick and he didn’t know Takashi well yet, he actually found it admirable, that independence. Even heroic. Part of his mysterious charm, the quiet, strange boy who saw spirits and helped others and asked for nothing in return.

It was part of what made Kaname fall in love with him. But most of it was an illusion, a mask Takashi wore to hide the truth from everyone, including himself.

Takashi really is that kind and generous. But he’s only just learning how to receive. How to ask for what he needs, or even realize he needs anything. If Kaname is really is going to share his life with Takashi, if it’s going to work, then Kaname needs to respect that.

Maybe the illusion of Takashi is what drew him in. But it’s the real Takashi that makes Kaname want to stay. The boy who keeps reaching out despite his pain, to yokai and human alike. Who finds moments of wonderful, quiet joy everywhere he can, even in a dirty alleyway in the middle of a dangerous city.

Kaname doesn’t know how much time they have left before Inari realizes they’re gone. He doesn’t know how long it will take for the Matoba clan to find any trace of Dakiniten. All he can do is be with Takashi and love him with all his heart. So he does.

Chapter Text

Takashi sleeps in Touko-san’s embrace. And then he wakes, and Kaname is holding him, and he drifts off again. And when he wakes again, it’s Shigeru-san. Shigeru-san.

Takashi could never have asked for this. Never. But he’s unspeakably grateful for it anyway.

Eventually, he wakes up and stays awake. He’s groggy and disoriented, like he usually is after his fevers, even though he doesn’t think he actually had a fever this time. Not yet, anyway. If they can make him human again, he’ll probably be laid out for days, aching and chilled in the aftermath of so much spiritual energy.

Touko-san is in the bed with him again, fast asleep. Shigeru-san is sleeping in a chair by the bed, wrapped in a blanket. The apartment is quiet, though he can hear music playing softly. Something instrumental, soothing, the volume low.

The music is coming from a radio in the living room. Inside, Tanuma-san and Kaname are lying on a pair of futons, loosely embraced in their sleep. And Kitamoto and Nishimura are squished onto the sofa together, foot-to-head, both out cold.

There’s light in the kitchen. People are awake, sitting around the table, talking softly. Natori-san, Miura-san, Taki. When they see him, they all look worried and relieved at the same time.

“Natsume,” Natori-san says, standing up, stepping forward. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” Takashi says, realizing that he is. He slept through everything but breakfast.

“I’ll get you something,” Miura-san says, already heading for the fridge.

Natori-san helps Takashi to a chair, then returns to his own.

“No news yet,” Taki tells him, before he can think clearly enough to ask. “Matoba-san has everyone looking. He’ll find something soon.”

Takashi doesn’t feel able to engage with any of that yet. Miura-san gives him a glass of water, a cup of tea, a bowl of stew that Touko-san must have made, though he recognizes Nishimura’s uneven carrot cutting. There’s also a piece of bread.

“No rice?” Takashi asks. Touko-san usually serves rice with her stew.

“Safer not to,” Natori-san says.

Takashi has to agree. He wonders what will happen if they can’t help Inari. Will all the rice just stop growing? He doesn’t ask, doesn’t want to find out.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Miura-san says. “You know, all this has brought back a lot of memories for me. Good and bad.” She pauses. “Reiko— She had— People were difficult, for her. Though it sounds like you know that.”

“I’m not sure I know her at all,” Takashi admits. “She doesn’t— Stay, with the yokai she takes names from. And no one human says anything nice.” The pain that always gives him hardly registers right now, but he knows it’s there. “Did you really love her?”

“Very much,” Miura-san says, and he can see that truth of it in her eyes. “I wish she’d had parents like yours.”

“She was friends with Shigeru-san,” Takashi volunteers. Talking feels easier, now. Sharing things he’s never shared with anyone but Sensei. “She lived in Hitoyoshi for a while. He was her favorite little kid. She chased away a yokai who was trying to steal his house.”

“Your house?” Taki asks, surprised.

Takashi nods. “It came back, recently. Tried to steal it again. It, uh— Almost ate me.” At their alarm, he hurriedly adds, “Sensei saved me! I was fine. But some of its memories went into me. I saw Reiko stop it, so I could do it, too.”

“Remind me to put another ward on your house when we get back,” Natori-san says, looking vaguely ill.

Takashi doesn’t want him to, but also does want him to. So he moves on. “Reiko protected Shigeru-san. She cared about him, but she couldn’t stay. But she told him— She would have been happy, if she lived there.”

“That’s amazing,” Miura-san says. “To have that connection with her. And that’s on top of all those memories. After she left here, we lost touch. I didn’t know she found someone else and had a daughter.”

“She died young,” Takashi says. Before the Book that was almost all he knew. “I don’t know anything about my grandfather. But whoever he was, he didn’t stay.”

“Reiko might not have let him,” Miura-san says. “It would be just like her to get pregnant and then never tell the father. If he’s still out there, and you want to find him, I hope you can.”

Takashi gives a soft assent. Wonders.

“What did Reiko do, when she lived here?” he asks. If she wasn’t here for college—

“Odd jobs, mostly,” Miura-san says. “But just to pay the bills. She was actually a very good artist. She said it was the only way anyone else could see the world she saw, even people like me. I think I still have some of her sketches and watercolors in a box somewhere. Would you like to have them?”

“Yes, please!” Takashi says, amazed.

“I have more photos of her, too,” Miura-san says. “I’m glad I never got rid of any of it. She was just— Very special to me.” She looks sad and fond. “I tried to encourage her to sell her work, but a lot of the time, she would destroy whatever she made. Her feelings towards the spirit world were— Complicated. It dominated her life, isolated her, but the art she made of it was beautiful.”

“What about your Sight?” Taki asks.

“Good enough to watch my step, as my mother always said,” Miura-san says.

“It runs in the family?” Natori-san asks. “I don’t recall any exorcists by your name.”

“No, we never got involved with all that,” Miura-san says. “‘Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.’ My mother said that, too. We’re just an ordinary family that happens to see a little more than most.”

Takashi and Natori-san glance at each other.

“I never had children myself,” Miura-san says. “I traveled for a while, after university, then came back and started teaching there. Environmental sciences. My current passion is a project for sustainability for the local watershed. You wouldn’t believe how helpful it is to be able to ask the local yokai what they need, and they have so many stories about the way things have changed over the centuries.”

Takashi stares at her, stunned.

“Are you all right?” Miura-san asks.

“How can you—“ Takashi starts, trying to understand any of what she just told him. “Don’t they— Try to eat you?”

“Oh, I had a little trouble at first,” Miura-san admits. “But once they realized I was helping them, some of the more powerful ones started protecting me. A bit like Madara is with you, though we’re just work friends. The spirits and I want the same thing, for the land and water to be healthy.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Taki says, longing. “Do you know other people with Sight? Ones that aren’t exorcists?”

“Of course,” Miura-san says. “There’s always a few around, though most people are understandably shy about it. And understandably shy of other humans. But just because we’re quiet, that doesn’t mean we’re not here. I have a few friends with Sight in the area, we try to get together for dinner every few months.”

Takashi cannot even begin to process any of that. But one question comes out of him anyway. “Then why did Reiko leave?”

If there are people here who saw what she saw, who aren’t exorcists, who actually have real lives and careers here that even include yokai— Why didn’t she stay? She would have been happy, if she lived here.

But she did live here. And she lived in Hitoyoshi. She was even in his house, and friends with Shigeru-san.

She was with Miura-san for years, and Miura-san loved her.

Reiko could have stayed. She could have had a whole life, grown old and grey. She could have still been alive when Takashi was born, and they could have shared the same scenery.

It wasn’t too late for her.

But he knows. From the yokai memories. No matter how much the yokai wanted her to stay, to help them or be friends or even give them commands. She always walked away. She walked away from Shigeru-san, from Miura-san.

“Some people just can’t find a way forward,” Miura-san says, sadly. “It wasn’t her fault, really.” She looks directly at Takashi. “I’m glad you have.”

Takashi hardly feels like he’s a good example of anything. “I haven’t,” he protests.

“You’re doing great,” Miura-san says, certain. “I’ve worked with a lot of students over the years. It’s hard being young. It was hard for me, too. I’m happy to have myself sorted out now, but it takes time. Give yourself time, the way Reiko should have.”

Takashi swallows. Looks down at his kimono sleeves. “I don’t think I have much time left.”

“If I have to go yell at a few gods myself, to make sure you do, then I will,” Miura-san says. “And so will everyone else, even that Matoba.”

“We’re going to fix this,” Natori-san promises.

Takashi nods. He wants very much to believe them. He’s too exhausted to worry anyway.

“Natsume,” Natori-san starts, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry about Matoba. I’m never going to forgive him for agreeing to burn your Name. And even the idea of exorcising you—“ He frowns, looks ashamed. “Just because you aren’t human right now, I shouldn’t have stopped treating you like a person.”

“It’s okay,” Takashi says. He was ready to do worse to himself.

“No, it’s not,” Natori-san insists. “A lot of exorcists, my family included, and certainly the Matoba clan— We draw a line between humans and spirits. And anything on the wrong side of that line can be treated very poorly. That kind of thinking— It’s why so many exorcists are terrified of yokai. Of being treated just as poorly back. It’s why my family—“ He cuts off.

“When I was young,” he continues, “I didn’t like all that. I wanted to treat yokai like you do. Help them as people. But I got so— Caught up in my own pride, proving my worth, that I ended up just like everyone else. And then you showed up.“ He gives a lopsided smile, a regretful one.

“I think you’re right about exorcists,” he continues. “And Shigeru’s right. Cruelty for the sake of convenience— We can find a better way. We have to.”

Natori-san looks at him so earnestly, so wanting his approval for all this, his forgiveness—

Takashi doesn’t know what to do with all that. Especially when hunger is no longer keeping him awake, and talking to Miura-san— It’s already so much for him to think about. He doesn’t have much energy left.

But Natori-san is his friend. This is important to him, and what he’s saying is important to Takashi, too.

“Then we will,” Takashi says, and means it as much as he can, even though it means relying on Natori-san’s belief that they’ll fix Takashi’s troubles first.

But helping each other is what friends do.

Natori-san gives him a wide, happy smile, far better than any of his charming, sparkling ones.

But that’s all Takashi has in him. He slumps over and rests his head on his arms. He can already tell he’s about to fall asleep whether he likes it or not.

Natori-san gives a fond chuckle. “Ready to go back to bed?”

Takashi nods against his sleeves.

Natori-san helps him back into the bedroom. Shigeru-san stirs when they walk over, blinks.

“Just had a snack,” Natori-san tells him. “He needs more sleep.”

If Takashi wasn’t so tired, he would protest being talked about like a child. But he’s so tired.

“There’s room on the bed for three,” Natori-san suggests. Then he leaves the bedroom and closes the door behind him.

“Takashi?” Touko-san says, woken by the noise.

“Budge over, dear?” Shigeru-san says.

Touko-san budges over. Shigeru-san guides Takashi to lie down in her arms, and then lies down alongside him, and reaches across Takashi, over to Touko-san.

They hold him as he’s pulled back to sleep.

Chapter Text

An urgent knocking startles Kaname awake. He sits up and looks around. The apartment is dark, everyone is asleep. Or was, as the knocking is waking them up, too.

Kaname genuinely expected to wake up in Inari’s chambers, snatched back the moment their time ran out. He mentally thanks Shisha and the rest of the court for keeping Inari distracted for a few more hours, and hopes they can keep her busy for at least several more decades.

Dad gets to the door first. It’s Matoba-san, half-shadowed by the nearest streetlight. The night sky is just starting to brighten. A woman is with him, grey-haired, dressed in similar robes. His assistant, Nanase-san. Kaname only met her once, briefly. Takashi doesn’t like her. She’s holding a box.

Someone turns on the living room lights. Despite his usual composed appearance, Matoba-san actually looks like he hasn’t slept since he left them yesterday morning. So does Nanase-san.

Matoba-san looks at Kaname. “Good, we’re not too late,” he says, and breezes inside.

The Fujiwaras and Takashi come out of the bedroom, and when Shigeru-san sees Matoba-san, he steps in front of Takashi and looks very determined.

“I hope you found something,” Shigeru-san tells Matoba-san.

“With luck, this is your missing god,” Matoba-san says. He gestures at the box.

Takashi stares at him, at the box, astonished. “You found Dakiniten!?”

“We need your help to find out,” Matoba-san says. “Sit. I’ll explain.”

Everyone gathers in the living room.

“You were right,” Matoba-san tells Natori-san. “There was a record of something unusual near the castle ruins, at the time Reiko was there. An exorcist reported seeing a powerful yokai attack a young woman. He was able to capture the yokai and seal it, but afterwards, he couldn’t break the seal. In fact, no one could break the seal. The yokai was trapped.”

“But isn’t that what you do?” Takashi asks. “Trap them?”

“Only temporarily,” Matoba-san says. “With unpleasant exceptions, yokai are not collected. They are captured to remove them from where they are causing harm. Then they are dealt with. Exorcised or otherwise calmed, and then released.”

“You have yokai in pots,” Takashi says, stubborn. “I’ve seen them. Yokai get sealed all the time.”

“Not all yokai are freed,” Matoba-san admits. “Some are too dangerous or too valuable. Some exorcists are fools. And in rare cases, where the sealer was extremely powerful, the seal is too strong to be broken by anyone else. I have a pot of my own like that, that you sealed.”

Takashi startles at that.

“That yokai we trapped, at the exorcist meeting?” Natori-san asks, surprised. “The one that was eating shiki?”

“I had hoped we could make it useful,” Nanase-san says. “But it remains sealed. As does this one.”

Nanase-san opens the box and takes out a sealed clay pot. She carefully puts it on the floor.

Takashi reaches for it, but Nanase-san cautions him back.

“If this is Dakiniten, she’s been trapped in here for decades,” Nanase-san warns. “She may be corrupted like Inari.”

“We are not simply releasing her here and hoping for the best,” Matoba-san says, pointedly. “Preparations are being made to enshrine this Dakiniten along with Inari, in the largest Inari shrine in Kumamoto.”

“They’re allowing that?” Natori-san asks, surprised.

“They don’t have a choice,” Matoba-san says. “The Matoba clan was instrumental in the separation of Shinto and Buddhism. The government gave the orders and we carried them out. Politically, it was necessary. It gave our clan an abundance of work, first separating one side from the other, and then cleaning up the aftermath. We’re still cleaning it up, as this situation so clearly illustrates. However.” He pauses. “Now that the political winds have shifted, there are other options available.”

“Such as enshrining a Buddhist god in a central Shinto shrine,” Natori-san says, reluctantly impressed.

“Hardly the first,” Matoba-san defends. “The gods mingle in many places. And the prefectural government was very eager to help, once I told them of the danger to the spring rice planting.”

Kaname takes that in.

“We also looked further back in the archives, to find the source of your stray Inari,” Matoba-san continues. “In 1632, the Hosokawa clan became Lords of Kumamoto. After the Inari shrine on Mount Inari was destroyed, the Hosokawas were the ones who rebuilt it. It’s the center of all Inari worship and a place of deep spiritual power. They enshrined an Inari directly from there, asking her to protect the castle.”

“That’s why you have to use the central shrine,” Natori-san realizes.

“Anything less would be disrespectful,” Matoba-san admits.

“She’s still protecting the castle,” Kaname realizes.

“It’s easy for spirits to become stuck,” Matoba-san says, repeating his words from yesterday. “Even gods.” He turns to Takashi. “But as you are so fond of helping them get unstuck, you can help us transfer her protection from the castle, which no longer needs it, to the city itself.”

He looks at Takashi expectantly. Takashi is still visibly taking all that in.

“So you think Reiko helped the exorcist seal Dakiniten in there,” Takashi says, looking at the pot. “Which means I’m the only one who can open it. And then we need to somehow get both gods from the castle to the shrine.”

“And remove their corruption before they are enshrined,” Matoba-san adds. “But you are their Prince, now, are you not? If there’s a chance they’ll listen to anyone, it’s you.”

Two corrupted gods, Kaname thinks, uneasy. He can’t imagine that Dakiniten was any happier than Inari about their separation, and being trapped in a pot for decades definitely wouldn’t have helped her feel any better.

“This sounds extremely dangerous,” Shigeru-san says, concerned.

“It is,” Matoba-san replies.

“Can you do anything to guarantee his safety?” Shigeru-san asks.

“No,” Matoba-san admits. “We’ll prepare the shrine. But once they enter the spirit world, all we can do is wait.”

“The emissaries,” Takashi says, realizing something. “Inari sent them out to find Dakiniten. We can use the masks, go back as them. Present Dakiniten to her. Reunite them.”

“That’s good,” Natori-san says, impressed. “Play into their expectations.”

Expectations. An awful thought comes over Kaname. He’s seen this before. He knows what happens every single time Takashi runs into a yokai who knew Reiko.

“What if Dakiniten thinks you’re Reiko?” Kaname asks.

Takashi goes pale. “She will,” he says, with dread.

“And we still have to give back her Name,” Kaname groans.

“Inari has the Book,” Takashi says. “If we can get it, give the Name back— But if we get close, I’m still corrupted— And she has Sensei—“ He rubs his face, scared, frustrated.

Kaname turns and takes Takashi’s hand. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time, okay? And Shisha will help us. The other court yokai will want to help us.”

“There’s something else,” Miura-san says. “Do we know exactly when that happened? When Dakiniten was sealed?”

Nanase-san hands her a piece of old paper. The exorcist’s log.

“I thought so,” Miura-san says, unhappy. “This was right after we broke up. Reiko and I. We had a fight. Not our first. We usually patched things up, but—“ She turns to Takashi. “Taking Names— Reiko didn’t talk about it much, but I know it was a game to her and then— A way for her to feel in control. She told me she stopped, while we were together. She must have started again as soon as we broke up. Trying to feel in control again. To take two Names in a row like that—” She shakes her head. “Whatever happened between her and Dakiniten, Reiko went into it hurt and angry. I doubt their interaction was pleasant.”

“So Dakiniten is not just possibly corrupted and missing her Name, but also very angry personally at someone who looks like you,” Matoba-san says to Takashi. He actually looks regretful. “I truly wish there was a way to protect you from this.”

“With the masks, they’ll think we’re the emissaries,” Kaname says. “As long as we keep those on, we can do all of it as them, even give back the Name and get them enshrined. They don’t have to know he’s their Prince, they’ll listen to their emissaries, too.” They don’t want to ask Inari to make them human again until after all that anyway.

“Good. Anyone else have any ideas?” Matoba-san asks.

No one says a word.

“Then get ready. We’ll drop you two off at the castle, then wait for you at the shrine.”

There’s a flurry of activity as everyone prepares to leave.

Everyone — except Matoba-san and Nanase-san — takes a turn hugging Takashi and Kaname. Just in case.

“We’ll be waiting for you,” Touko-san tells Takashi, as she hugs him so tightly. “Your family will be waiting for you, so please come home.”

“I’ll try,” Takashi says, tearful.

Shigeru-san and Touko-san both hug Takashi together.

“Remember,” Dad says, as he fusses over Kaname’s kimono, still crooked from sleep. “Dakiniten was a demon, a fierce flesh-eater. But the Buddha purified her. He gave her a new purpose, not to destroy humans but to help us. She may be frightening, but trust in her enlightenment. Whatever suffering she feels will pass.”

“All suffering ends,” Kaname says, answering with one of the Four Noble Truths out of pure habit. The words are ingrained in him, his life always lived by them. Suffering exists. It has a cause. It has an end. There is a path to the end of suffering.

He trusts that they will find an answer. They will find a way through.

Chapter Text

On the way to the castle, Takashi’s head is so full of worry about everything they’re about to face that it’s not until they’re almost there that he starts worrying about what happened yesterday.

He told Touko-san and Shigeru-san so much. Things he’s never told anyone, not even Sensei. Things that should have destroyed the life he’s somehow built, should have left him rejected and alone with no hope and no future.

But they were only kind to him. They only loved him more.

It’s a relief to have to go face Inari now. There’s still a part of him that— That wants to lose everything. That doesn’t know how to not lose everything.

He’s still corrupted. He wishes it had been enough, telling them all those secrets. He wishes them holding him could have exorcised all his pain. But having been forced to open up, that pain is anything but gone. It’s spilled everywhere and he can’t pack it neatly away like he used to. He doesn’t think he wants to, but it’s so much.

And as long as he’s like this, not-human, the corruption makes him dangerous. To Inari, to Kaname, to everyone.

At they approach the castle, he remembers what happened with Inari in the palace. His corruption hurting her, through their bond, making her corruption worse. And then he remembers he has a bond with Kaname, too. Oh no, did he feel—

He has to ask.

“Kaname,” Takashi starts, as the car turns in to the parking lot entrance.

Kaname looks at him, his white hair lit by the car ceiling light. Takashi struggles for the words. He misses Kaname’s black hair. Misses walking home with him. Misses waking up in Kaname’s bed, warm and surrounded by the smell of him in the sheets.

“Yesterday,” Takashi says, forcing out the words. “When I— The bond—“ He swallows, forces himself to not look away. “Did you feel—“

Kaname realizes, understands. “Yeah,” he admits. “Idaten protected me from the worst of it, but—“

“Idaten?” Takashi asks, surprised.

“I guess I was a danger to my dad,” Kaname says, and that information makes Takashi feel absolutely terrible. “Idaten somehow— Purified the bond, I think? It wore off after a while. After you felt better.”

“Oh,” Takashi says. “Um. Good.”

“Too bad we’re not monks, right?” Kaname says, with a nervous laugh.

The car stops and the driver opens the door. Matoba-san gets out with them. They put on their bird masks, and Kaname turns into the white falcon Shuyuchiso again, and Takashi into the white rooster Ton’yugyo. Takashi takes the sealed pot that they’re almost sure has Dakiniten inside, holding it close with his feathered hands. They won’t find out until he opens it, and he can’t open it until they’re in the palace.

“Cleanse their corruptions and bring them to the shrine, whatever it takes,” Matoba-san commands. “We’ll be ready for you.”

At times like this, Takashi is reminded that Matoba-san is in charge of a huge and important organization. They might disagree about yokai, and disagree a lot. But he takes his job very seriously.

Takashi and Kaname walk up the ramp to the castle, just like they did two days ago, two days that feel like an entire lifetime. There’s no one else here, human or yokai. Matoba-san had the castle area closed off to human visitors, and Inari keeps her court close, and other yokai away.

Takashi looks out over the city. Kumamoto is beautiful, all that life spreading out beneath them, still shadowed as the morning sun just breaks past the mountains beyond.

It could have been nice to live here with Kaname. They could have been happy.

“This way,” Kaname directs, leading them not to the central keep but to a nearby building. Takashi wasn’t really conscious enough on the way out to remember the route of their escape.

Takashi looks back at the central keep, up at the statues of the shachihoko on the very top. The huge tiger fish look so much smaller from down here.

Sensei, he thinks, silently promising to save him.

The palace building is marked with signs that say it’s closed to human visitors. But when they walk inside, the human world is left behind.

Golden artwork lines the walls and ceilings. Samurai armor yokai stand on guard inside the entrance, and line the way ahead.

Takashi and Kaname walk in, backs straight and bird heads high, as if they have every right to be here, as if they belong. And as they approach the court chamber, the pull of his bond with Inari grows stronger, and it starts to make him belong. It pulls him away from himself and into being her Prince, and Kaname his servant.

He struggled against it before, but also used it to make their subterfuge work. He tries to use it the same way now, without losing himself and their plan.

Return Dakiniten to Inari. Get the Book and return Dakiniten’s Name. Free Madara-dono. Purify the corruption. Get Dakiniten and Inari to the shrine. Convince his Lord God Inari to make them human again. Go home to Hitoyoshi and sleep until his inevitable fever passes and then sleep some more, ideally cuddled up with Tanuma-dono.

It’s a good plan. A great plan. He has no idea how they’re going to pull off most of it and is trying very hard to convince himself he’s not terrified so they’re not immediately discovered and the whole thing isn’t a catastrophic disaster.

They enter the court. It’s much the same as when they left, the samurai armor yokai on guard, the white animal yokai filling the court, his Lord God Inari on her throne, and Madara-dono’s huge form wrapped around it, still asleep, the red silk leash still binding him to their Lord God’s wrist.

Except now his Lord God’s eyes are glowing red. Wisps of black smoke rise around her. Prince Natsume can feel her corruption strongly, a bitter grief and loneliness that makes his own corruption twist and swell.

And worse, it’s not just the two of them that are affected now. All the white animal yokai of the court are struggling against their Lord God’s corruption, and wisps of black smoke drift from their bodies.

Prince Natsume is not going to panic.

Prince Shisha sees them and looks incredibly relieved. Only he is resisting the corruption, perhaps out of hope for their return.

“My Lord God,” Prince Shisha announces, turning to their Lord God. “Your emissaries have returned, as promised. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“My Lord God Inari,” Tanuma-dono says, bowing deeply, somehow not panicking. “With your gracious and generous permission, I have brought the gift of long life from your bountiful heart out across the land. Ton’yugyo has brought the gift of great happiness. And as we journeyed, we found a gift to bring back to you, our beloved Lord God.”

“A gift?” Lord God Inari asks, her eyes dull with despair beneath the glowing red.

What happened to her? She wasn’t this bad when they left. After Prince Natsume left, got away from her, his corruption shouldn’t have—

The bond. Tanuma-dono. Yesterday. Oh no.

Tanuma-dono was protected from the worst of Prince Natsume’s corruption by Idaten’s blessing. But his Lord God Inari had no such help.

He did this to her.

He has to fix it.

“A precious gift,” Prince Natsume says, stepping forward, even though every step closer makes his corruption stronger. He gets as close as he can bear, then stops. “One that you long requested, and we humbly beg your forgiveness for its delay. We have found Lord God Dakiniten.”

His Lord God Inari sits up straight, looks around. “What?! Where is she? Where?!”

“Here, my Lord God,” Prince Natsume says, holding up the sealed pot. “We could not find her because she was—“

“Let her out!” his Lord God Inari cries, standing, reaching out.

Prince Natsume breaks the paper seal. He pulls out the cork that seals the opening. And then—

A great rush of wind and power blows everyone back. The empty pot falls from Prince Natsume’s feathered hands and shatters.

Lord God Dakiniten floats above them, on fire. Through the flames, her red and gold kimono flutters. On her head is a golden crown decorated with skulls, and on her ears are ornate golden earrings in the shape of snakes. She lets out an ear-splitting scream.

Takashi goes rigid with terror. Prince Natsume falls to his knees in relief and devotion, and bows deeply. “My Lord God Dakiniten,” he swoons.

Around him, Prince Natsume hears the other members of the court also welcoming their Lord God Dakiniten’s return. At last she is home!

“Dakiniten!” their Lord God Inari sobs. “My Dakiniten!”

“My Inari!” their Lord God Dakiniten cries.

When Prince Natsume raises his head, he sees them embracing, sees the joy in their Lord God Inari’s eyes. The red glow is gone, the black smoke too.

The corruption. Right, they have to— They have to get rid of her corruption. And the Name. He needs the Book to give back their Lord Dakiniten’s Name.

And then the corruption roils inside him, and he’s breathless with pain. He’s vaguely aware of black smoke drifting up around him, from himself, from everyone else.

Everyone except their Lord God Dakiniten. Her anger is fire, searing flames burning white hot.

“Who did this to you?!” their Lord God Inari rages. “Who?!””

“Natsume,” their Lord God Dakiniten growls. “Natsume Reiko!”

“Natsume?” their Lord God Inari says, recognizing the name. “But I have him! Prince Shisha! Bring Prince Natsume to me at once! And his exorcist!”

“Exorcist?” their Lord God Dakiniten says, even angrier. “The one who sealed me? Bring him to me now!”

Oh no. Oh no. Ton’yugyo and Shuyuchiso! If they’re still in the cage, still in disguise— He can’t let them be killed because of him!

“Your Prince?” their Lord God Dakiniten says, surprised.

“He served my pet,” their Lord God Inari says, gesturing at the sleeping Madara-dono. “Now he serves me. He has great power. He took my Prince Shisha from me!”

“Shisha?” their Lord God Dakiniten says, following their Lord God Inari’s gesture. Her flames start to ease. “Shisha-no-kimi! You’re back! You were gone when I arrived, I searched for you!”

“I humbly apologize, my Lord God,” Prince Shisha says, bowing deeply. “In my shame I could not face you, after losing my Name to a human. But Natsume Reiko—”

Prince Shisha is interrupted as the samurai armor yokai bring in-- Prince Natsume and Tanuma-dono. Ton’yugyo and Shuyuchiso, in disguise. It’s surreal, seeing their human selves right in front of them.

“Natsume Reiko,” says their Lord God Dakiniten, walking right up to the disguised Ton’yugyo. She looks at him, then at the disguised Shuyuchiso, and frowns. “This is not them. What game are you playing, my heart?”

“If you please, my Lord Gods,” Prince Shisha says, anxious. “This is not Natsume Reiko, this is Natsume Takashi, her grandson. And it seems Tanuma-dono is not his exorcist, but his, uh, boyfriend?” He looks at their Lord Gods, hopeful.

“This is not them,” their Lord God Dakiniten says, firmly. “Do you think I would not know my own emissaries?” And with that, she rips the human masks off their faces, transforming them back into their true bird yokai forms.

Everyone goes very still.

And then everyone turns to look at the Ton’yugyo and Shuyuchiso who returned with the sealed pot.

“Seize them!” their Lord God Inari snarls.

The samurai yokai armor start closing in from every direction.

“Wait, please!” Tanuma-dono says, throwing off his mask and transforming back to his true human form. “We just want to help. We found Lord God Dakiniten and restored her, we just want to help!”

But no one’s listening. So Takashi does the only thing he can possibly do.

He grabs the biggest shard of the broken clay pot from the floor, and runs directly at Sensei as fast as he can. He brings his arm up and then down, slicing right through the silk ribbon with the shard. “Sensei!!” he shouts, at the top of his lungs.

Sensei’s eyes spring open.

Takashi yanks off his mask and throws it aside. He leaps onto Sensei and rips the rest of the silk from his neck. An intense bright light makes him turn away as Sensei purifies the entire chamber.

Everyone else is knocked off their feet, except Kaname, who sprints forward and rushes at the dazed Inari. He reaches into her kimono, grabs the Book, and throws it to Takashi. Takashi catches it.

“I’msorryaboutmygrandmother,” Takashi says in a rush. He’s extremely sorry, he’s so so sorry, please let them make it out of this alive. He opens the book. “One who would protect me, show me your Name!”

Wind rushes up around him as the pages of the Book flip, and then the requested page stands up straight. He pulls out the page, drops the book in Sensei’s fur, folds the page, bites it, claps his hands together, and blows. The ink lifts from the paper and flies up and then dives down into Dakiniten’s forehead just as she sits up.

And then Dakiniten is standing outside the castle, right by the central keep. She’s looking for someone. For her Prince Shisha. Prince Shisha always greets her when she arrives. If he’s not here, something must be very wrong.

And something is wrong. There’s a human girl here, where no humans should be. And the girl is angry, hurt, absolutely overflowing with suffering. Dakiniten licks her lips, thinking what a feast this heart would be, if only the girl was dying.

He’s reliving Dakiniten’s memories. When Reiko took her Name.

“Oh good,” Reiko says, with a smile. “I was hoping there was someone interesting here.”

“You’ve strayed far, human girl,” Dakiniten warns. “Go back to where you belong.”

“I’m not a girl anymore,” Reiko says, anger flashing in her eyes. “No one tells me what to do. Least of all things like you.“

“I am your god, human,” Dakiniten says, thunder in her voice. “You would do well to treat me with respect.”

“A god?” Reiko says, intrigued. “Hmm. I haven’t played a game with a god like you before. Only weaklings. Small fry. But I don’t worship gods. What did things like you ever do for me?” She gives a bitter laugh. “You’re something to pass the time. That’s all.”

Dakiniten doesn’t like this human girl. Doesn’t trust her. A human as powerful as her should be an exorcist or some other dignitary. She should show respect or at least fear. Instead she plays with the rope in her hand, and smirks, and looks at Dakiniten as if she wants to eat Dakiniten’s heart. What is she up to? Why is she here?

Prince Shisha is missing. Dakiniten’s fear grows. Inari has been so isolated here, since the human castle was destroyed, since the exorcists forced the gods apart. Inari is grieving and cut off from her humans.

Things are improving, slowly. Every visit Dakiniten can make gets a little longer. Whenever she’s here, Dakiniten does her best to help, but Inari refuses to leave. She promised to protect the castle, and it doesn’t matter to her that the castle has been a ruin for years. The humans will rebuild it, and when they do, she will continue to keep her promise.

Is this human girl going after Inari? Dakiniten must put a stop to this.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Reiko says. “Let’s have a duel. If you win, I’ll leave. If I win, I get your Name.”

Her Name? Dakiniten doesn’t care for those terms, but she hardly thinks this little slip of a girl could possibly defeat her. “Deal.”

Boldly, Reiko strides forward and stamps down her foot. “Stepped on your shadow. I win.”

“My shadow?” Dakiniten asks, baffled.

“We’re playing shadow tag,” Reiko says. “And you already lost.” She gives a mocking chuckle. “Some god you are.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a green book, an ink pot, a brush. The cover of the book has the words, The Book of Friends.

Dakiniten is too shocked to argue. How could she— That was hardly—

It was trickery, without question. Boldly done and fiendish. But Dakiniten is a demon-god. She cannot deny the power of a fiendish trick.

She writes her true Name in the Book of Friends, humiliated.

But bound or not, Dakiniten must protect Inari and her court.

“What will you do now?” Dakiniten asks.

“I don’t know,” Reiko says, thinking. “I’ve lived in this town for a while, and I’ve never seen any yokai in this place before. And there’s always yokai everywhere. You never leave me alone. So I asked myself, why wouldn’t they come here?” Reiko stares right into Dakiniten’s eyes. “Was there something bad? Something powerful?”

Dakiniten frowns.

“Powerful,” Reiko decides, and tucks the Book back into her bag. “Two of you already. I wonder how many more I can find? I wonder how many of you friends I’ll have to collect before you all finally leave me alone.”

Dakiniten feels the power of Reiko’s words. They’re not a command, but only just. If Reiko ordered her to leave, Dakiniten would have no choice but to obey. Could she ever come back again? What would happen to Inari?

Dakiniten cannot let Reiko anywhere near her Inari.

Dakiniten was a fool to sign over her Name. But it’s not too late. This human can’t command her if she doesn’t have the Book.

With all her demonic speed, Dakiniten snatches Reiko’s bag.

“Hey, give that back!” Reiko says, and tries to grab the bag back.

“You will leave this place now!” Dakiniten growls. Purifying flames burst into the air around her, and she lifts up off the ground. “NOW!”

Finally, Reiko looks at Dakiniten with the fear she is owed. Reiko runs, and Dakiniten chases her, wanting to make sure Reiko gets fully away from the castle and stays gone.

They cross back into the human realm, and Dakiniten keeps chasing Reiko, wanting to give her a scare she’ll never forget.

And then Dakiniten feels him. An exorcist. She loathes them for what they’ve done, the pain they’ve caused, and for what? Petty human politics? Dakiniten has eaten the hearts of kings!

The exorcist has already seen her and Reiko. And then he’s chanting something, and there’s something in his hands. A clay pot.

As if such a worthless pot could trap her! He can do as he likes, she will shatter it in an instant!

Reiko runs over to the exorcist, hiding behind him after all her fearless mockery. Dakiniten knew it, she can see into human hearts and she knows what this one is stuffed with. Dakiniten drops the bag, reaches out. She will shatter the pot and eat her heart!

The exorcist finishes his chanting, and Dakiniten allows herself to be pulled into the pot, just to see the fear in the eyes of these humans when it shatters. But just as she falls fully inside, she sees Reiko’s hands reaching out to help close the seal.

And then—

Takashi gasps back to himself, head full of Dakiniten. His body feels wrong and small and weak, he can’t breathe!

And then he realizes he can’t breathe because Dakiniten has her hand around his throat, and there’s nothing under his feet.

“Takashi!!”

Takashi turns his eyes and sees Kaname surrounded by the armor yokai, captured. No! Sensei, where’s Sensei? He hears the sounds of fighting, growling, but where—

“You,” Dakiniten says, furious.

Takashi struggles to free himself, but Dakiniten’s grip is strong. He does manage to get a little air. “I’m sorry,” he rasps, faintly. “I’m giving— Back the Names—“ He wheezes. “Fixing it— Please! Sorry!”

Dakiniten’s grip loosens slightly. “You gave back my Name.”

“Yes,” Takashi rasps. “Grandson. Reiko’s dead. Trying to— Help— Inari— Corruption!” He gasps in a bigger breath. “New shrine. Both of you!”

“A new shrine?” Dakiniten says, and Takashi realizes—

Dakiniten isn’t corrupted. Even though she was absolutely furious at Reiko, and furious when he let her out. In her memories— Her flame is purifying, not a sign of corruption.

She puts him down, and Takashi’s legs fold underneath him, and he collapses to the floor. He coughs and gasps, struggles to get his bearings.

After a powerful Name return like that, he has no idea how he’s still conscious. Did Dakiniten somehow force him to stay awake? Or is this the one good thing about being not-human and not-dead?

Though right now he feels like he should be dead. If he ever gets back to being human again, the fever that’s coming for him might actually finish him off.

He saw Reiko’s heart, through Dakiniten. For so long, he’s wanted to know what was underneath her smile. And now he’s felt it. Her despairing loneliness, so much like his own. And anger, so much anger at the injustice of her life, at the humans who rejected her, at the yokai who never stopped coming, curious and hungry and needing, just because she could see them, just because she had power.

She wanted to show them what power was. She wanted them to feel alone so she wouldn’t.

It never worked, but she kept trying.

Takashi groans as the memory of Reiko’s pain aggravates his corruption. He curls in on himself, sick of hurting, exhausted, sore and scared. He can feel the bond with Inari trying to reassert itself, to pull him back to her, and he can’t.

“Please,” Takashi begs, desperate. “I don’t want to be her Prince.”

Dakiniten tilts her head as she looks down at him. “You don’t?”

“She took us,” Kaname tells her, struggling against the grip of the armor yokai. “We just want to be human again so we can go home.”

Dakiniten reaches down and picks something up. The Book. She looks at it, considering. Then she looks at Takashi, and he can feel her looking into his heart.

He hopes it’s better than Reiko’s.

He wants to go home to his family, to Touko-san and Shigeru-san and Sensei. He wants to see his friends again, humans and yokai. He wants Kaname to come with him to the forest and meet the Dog’s Circle.

Please don’t eat his heart.

Dakiniten holds out the Book. Takashi stares at it.

Dakiniten sighs. She reaches down and pulls him to his feet, then puts the Book into his hands. When she lets him go, he starts to fall down again, so she pulls him back up and holds him there. Takashi clutches the Book to his chest.

“Let the boyfriend go,” Dakiniten tells the armor yokai. “And let Madara back in, the old troublemaker.”

As soon as the armor yokai release him, Kaname rushes forward and grabs Takashi, holds him close. Holds him up when Dakiniten lets go and walks away.

“Oh my love,” Dakiniten sighs, looking at Inari, who’s still lying on the floor, dazed from Sensei’s purification, like the rest of the court yokai. “You were never cruel before. It’s time to leave this place.” She turns to Takashi. “You said something about a shrine?”

“The main Inari shrine,” Kaname says. “If you can get her there, they’re ready to enshrine you together. You won’t have to be apart anymore.”

“Interesting,” Dakiniten says, her eyes sharp. “Did the humans change their minds?”

“We made them,” Kaname says. “I’m sorry for what our ancestors did.”

“Humans are always suffering, and causing the gods to suffer,” Dakiniten says, plainly. “I should never have let Inari stay here so long. She needed to rest, after all the trouble. But it’s time to go home.”

“Can you help her?” Takashi asks. “The corruption.”

It’s his fault, making her feel all that despairing loneliness.

“As I have always helped her,” Dakiniten says. And she kneels down next to Inari, and reaches into her body, and pulls out—

Takashi feels ill.

Inari’s corruption. It’s a black, writhing thing, and it screams in protest as Dakiniten yanks it free. And then she brings it to her mouth and—

Takashi gladly passes out.

Chapter Text

Kaname looks away from the grisly sight of Dakiniten eating Inari’s corruption, and eases Takashi to the ground. Takashi dropped the Book when he passed out, so Kaname picks it up.

There’s a growl as Sensei rushes back into the chamber, looking harried but intact. “Good, you’re back,” he tells Dakiniten. “I hate this place. Are we leaving?”

“Yes, we’re leaving,” Dakiniten says. She licks her fingers, wipes the smear of black from her lips with the back of her hand, and then licks that, too.

Kaname knew Dakiniten was a demon who ate the bad things from people’s hearts. Actually seeing that in person is— Visceral.

“I haven’t eaten in decades,” Dakiniten moans, pleased. Then she looks over at Takashi, clearly eager to continue her feast.

“Um,” Kaname says, moving between them.

“Do you question the Buddha’s wisdom, son of a monk?” Dakiniten challenges.

“Will it hurt him?” Kaname asks.

“No,” Dakiniten says.

“Will it— Rip out who he is?” Kaname asks, thinking of Matoba-san and exorcisms.

“Of course not,” Dakiniten says. “If he was human, I’d have to wait until his death to do this. But as he’s not—“ She gives him an expectant look.

Kaname looks over at Sensei. Sensei seems entirely unbothered by all of this. Kaname swallows and steps aside. He has to look away, but can’t block out the sounds.

Dakiniten moans in delight.

When the noises stop, Kaname dares to look again. There’s no sign of the black corruption. Takashi looks— Better, actually. Somehow healthier. He’s even starting to wake up.

“Thank you,” Kaname says, stunned.

“My pleasure,” Dakiniten says, and it’s clear that it was. She gives him a hungry look, too. “You don’t have nearly as much, but—“

She reaches for his heart. Kaname steps back, afraid, but Dakiniten crooks her finger, beckoning him to step close.

”She may be frightening, but trust in her enlightenment,” Dad said.

Kaname steps forward and braces himself.

There’s a pulling sensation in his chest, then through his body. It’s his chakras, he realizes, thinking of Shisha inspecting Takashi, when they were in the cage. Dakiniten is pulling the corruption from his whole body and out through his heart, removing whatever got into him from Inari and Takashi, and his own pain, too.

The corruption writhes as she pulls it free, and screeches as Dakiniten starts to eat it. The sounds make Kaname queasy, but once it’s over—

He feels different. Better. He already felt healthier from being around Takashi, but this is so much more. Dakiniten has stripped away all the grime, leaving him spiritually sparkling clean.

Purified.

Kaname’s mind absolutely swirls with questions. Corruption and purification and exorcism and— If the Four Noble Truths apply to gods as much as humans, if they suffer and need ways to end their suffering— And the Buddha helping a Shinto god like Inari through Dakiniten—

But Inari is awake again, and so is Takashi. Kaname can already feel their bonds pulling on him, and tries to resist, to stay himself. But they’re far too strong, especially without the corruption tainting them.

“My Lord God Inari,” Prince Natsume says, bowing deeply the moment he stands, unsteady but somehow not falling over. “We are your faithful servants and wish only to serve you. I apologize for my ancestor and the harm done to your court. But please release us and make us human again.” He looks up at her. “Please.”

“Brat! You’re my servant,” Madara-dono grumbles, annoyed. “You should be bowing like that to me.”

“My Lord God!” Prince Shisha says, rushing up to their Lord God Inari, overjoyed. The other court yokai are standing up, too, looking ruffled but unharmed. “I’m so relieved. How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” He turns to their Lord God Dakiniten. “Oh, it’s so good to have you back!”

“Thank you, Shisha-no-kimi,” their Lord God Inari says, fondly. She turns to Prince Natsume. “It’s I who must apologize to you. I have not been myself.” And then she looks to their Lord God Dakiniten. “I shouldn’t have let things get so bad.”

“I shouldn’t have left you here,” their Lord God Dakiniten says, stepping up to her. “My pride got the better of me. With Reiko, and before that. I was angry with our humans. I didn’t want you to go back to them.”

“I just wanted things to be as they were,” their Lord God Inari says, sadly. “I thought if I stayed here— They would come back. Everything would go back to how it was.” She looks around, seeming to see more than just this chamber. “But everything’s changed again.”

“And it will keep changing,” their Lord God Dakiniten says. “This castle is a memorial now, not a home. We must be with the living, to care for them and let them care for us.”

Their Lord God Inari closes her eyes, accepting. “Yes. It’s time.”

The court yokai stir with excitement.

“The humans have prepared a shrine for us,” their Lord God Dakiniten says.

Their Lord God Inari opens her eyes, surprised. “For us together?”

“Yes, my Lord Gods,” Servant Tanuma says. “They are waiting for us now.”

“Is that true?” their Lord God Inari asks, hardly able to believe it.

“Yes, my Lord Gods,” Prince Natsume says.

“Then we must go there at once!” their Lord God Inari says, and when she smiles with joy, Servant Tanuma feels her joy fill up every inch of him. Prince Natsume is smiling, too, and the whole court.

Fully in their Lord God Inari’s thrall, Servant Tanuma and Prince Natsume join their Lord Gods and their court as they parade out of the palace. The samurai armor yokai stay behind to continue to protect the castle, but the shachihoko fly down to carry the court to their new home. Servant Tanuma and Prince Natsume sit together on Madara-dono’s back as they fly into the air. And their Lord Gods—

Their Lord God Inari transforms, becoming a beautiful white fox dragon. And their Lord God Dakiniten rides upon her back, serene and flaming in the morning light.

They fly up above the city. The journey isn’t far, winding along the glittering river and towards the bay. And then there are the red torii gates, bright and pure and welcoming. Servant Tanuma can see the shrine as their Lord Gods see it, full of love and faith, sufferings small and large offered up for purification.

They land in the shrine courtyard, and immediately Servant Tanuma can feel how happy the court yokai are to be here. As soon as they hop off the shachihoko, they disperse into the shrine, making themselves at home, curious and eager to see what the humans have made for them and left as offerings and requests.

Their Lord God Inari transforms back into her human-like form, and takes their Lord God Dakiniten’s hand as they walk towards the main hall of the shrine. Their Princes follow behind her, Natsume and Shisha and three more, and Servant Tanuma close behind.

A group of humans is waiting for them, just outside the main hall. At first it’s hard to recognize them as anything but their roles: exorcists, kannushi, shrine maidens, priests, a monk.

But then something about the monk— There’s something on the monk’s shoulder, shimmering threads. Idaten?

Dad.

Kaname falls out of step with the others as he shocks back to himself. Dad, and Matoba-san and Natori-san! He can’t believe he couldn’t recognize them.

He looks over to Takashi, expecting him to be coming back to himself, too. But he’s still in Inari’s thrall, still Prince Natsume, full of divine joy.

Kaname has never, ever seen him so happy.

He knows Takashi wants to be human again, wants to go home, but Kaname just— Can’t help but hesitate.

The group of humans bows deeply in reverent greeting. They open the doors to the main hall to invite the gods and their retinue inside, to perform the enshrinement.

And then Ponta blocks their path.

Dakiniten and Inari both laugh in surprise.

“What on earth are you wearing, Madara?” Inari asks.

“Did someone trap you in that ceramic tanuki?” Dakiniten asks, casting a suspicious eye for the culprit and glaring at the exorcists. “I’ll break it for you.”

“No, don’t!” Ponta yelps, alarmed. “I think it makes me look dashing.”

“I think it’s a cat, my heart,” Inari tells Dakiniten. “It’s very cute,” she tells Ponta. “Do you like it because the humans can see it?”

“They should always gaze upon my majesty,” Ponta insists.

“You’ve always loved earthly things,” Inari sighs. “I suppose you want your servant back.”

“Trying to sneak off with him?” Ponta challenges.

“A little,” Inari admits. “Perhaps I could borrow him for a while? He makes such a lovely Prince.”

Kaname has to admit that Takashi is lovely as Prince Natsume. His striking white hair, his beautiful, flowing robes, the serene joy that glows from within him. Like the moments when Takashi gives away a Name, that brief serenity stretching out, and lit with Inari’s happiness.

But it’s Inari’s happiness, not Takashi’s. Kaname walks up and stands by Ponta’s side, blocking the way.

And then Matoba-san and Natori-san block the way, too, though they both look quietly terrified to be doing it.

“Perhaps he’ll change his mind later,” Dakiniten offers, to soothe Inari’s loss. “Human lives are so brief.”

“They are,” Inari agrees. She turns to Prince Natsume. To Takashi, his serenity falling away as he comes back to himself. “It seems like only yesterday that you were a tiny thing, hiding in my shrines.”

“He was hiding in your shrines two days ago,” Ponta grumps.

Inari laughs. “So he was. And you will always be welcome in them, Natsume Takashi, grandson of Reiko.” She looks back at Kaname and eyes the Book in his hand. “An interesting human, your grandmother.” She turns back to Takashi. “It’s good that you have dedicated yourself to repairing her harm. For that, and restoring my heart, I wish to give you a gift.”

Takashi’s eyes widen with alarm. “Uh, you don’t have to—“

“I insist,” Inari says. “But what to give you? Some kind of protection. I appreciate your frequent visits, but—“ She looks distressed.

“Perhaps make Natsume-no-kimi a divine being?” Shisha suggests. “No human or spirit would be able to harm him.”

Takashi looks even more alarmed. “No, definitely not that, please!”

“What’s wrong with it?” Kaname asks. Not that he wants Takashi to be a divine being, but—

“Divine beings can’t be touched by weaklings, either humans or spirits,” Ponta says.

“Oh,” Kaname says, alarmed too.

“Hmm. You could seal his power, so that he could live as a normal human,” Shisha suggests. “And unseal it when he’s ready to rejoin us.”

“I told you he’s mine!” Ponta growls.

“Please not that either,” Takashi says, starting to look desperate. “I don’t need anything, I’m fine, everything’s fine.”

“Obviously everything has not been fine for you,” Dakiniten says, and licks her lips, as if seeking some last taste of his corruption. Kaname feels faintly queasy but does his best to not show it.

“Maybe not,” Takashi admits, blushing, looking away from everyone. “I don’t know. I just—“

Takashi looks at Kaname, at Ponta and Natori-san and Matoba-san and Dad. And he looks at Inari and Dakiniten and Shisha. “I don’t want to lose anyone. I just— Want to be safe sometimes.”

Kaname’s heart breaks for him.

“Oh, I know!” Shisha says. “Natsume-no-kimi, you can wear an omamori.”

Takashi groans, despairing. “I tried that. It doesn’t work.”

“Oh yes, you did have one of those on when you were human,” Shisha says.

“Let’s see this omamori,” Inari says. She reaches into Takashi’s robes, and pulls out the omamori, which is suddenly back around his neck. She takes it off him and inspects it.

Inari shows it to Dakiniten. Both gods look at Natori-san and Dad.

“A kind effort,” Dakiniten says, amused. “But it simply won’t do at all. Not for your future Prince.”

Takashi makes a swallowed protest. Ponta glares at Dakiniten, but Dakiniten just smirks.

Kaname realizes they’re teasing Ponta with the Prince thing. He thinks. Probably.

“We’ll make you a new one,” Inari says to Takashi. “Spirits can be quite unruly, but they calm down once they know who’s in charge. I think we can manage that for you.”

Inari and Dakiniten both hold the omamori together. There’s a flash of light, and there’s a new omamori in their hands, made of fine fabric, red and white and trimmed with gold.

They offer it to him, but Takashi hesitates to take it. “What will it do?”

“It will let the spirits know that both of us are protecting you,” Inari says. “They won’t be afraid of you. They will simply be— Respectful.”

“Respectful?” Takashi asks, cautiously hopeful.

Ponta gives an affronted grumble. “I’m his bodyguard! Spirits already respect me!”

“Is that what you call that ridiculous display you put on the other day?” Shisha says.

“Respectful sounds good,” Takashi says. He accepts the omamori, holds it close.

“Hmph,” Ponta says, in grumpy approval.

“Thank you,” Takashi says. “If it works— Would it be okay if— Can I get some more of these? For my family and friends?”

“As many as you need. And if you have any problems, you know where to find us,” Inari tells Takashi.

“Thank you,” Takashi says again, and looks at both gods with gratitude.

“It’s time for us to enter our new home,” Dakiniten says. “And for you to go back to yours. Inari, my dear?”

“If I must,” Inari sighs. She gestures for Takashi and Kaname to stand together in front of her. As she reaches out her hands, Kaname braces for the same awful pain as before, and for Takashi’s screams.

But her touch is careful, gentle. Only a little firm, as her fingertips dip into their chests.

In a blink, their kimonos are gone. They’re wearing their normal clothes again, and their bags hang from their shoulders. Takashi’s hair is back to its normal blond, and Kaname sees the black fringes of his own.

“Kaname!” Dad gasps, finally seeing them. “Takashi!”

Kaname looks back at the gods and their retinue, and they’re washed out, blurry at the edges. But even without the glasses, he can see them in color, and their faces are clear.

Because they’re so powerful? Because he was purified?

He’ll figure it out later.

Inari plucks the Book from Kaname’s hand and gives it to Takashi. “Finish your work. Be happy. Consider my offer.”

Takashi bows to her, then tucks the Book and omamori into his bag.

“And don’t even think of giving that Book to him,” Dakiniten says, gesturing at Ponta.

Ponta hisses at her. “I do all the work around here, and this is the thanks I get?”

“Take good care of my future Prince, and I’ll give you squid,” Inari promises.

“Lots of squid,” Ponta insists.

“It’s a deal,” Inari says.

Ponta walks out of their path. “Come here, servants!”

Takashi and Kaname look at each other and smile, and then join Ponta away from the retinue.

“Don’t forget to visit!” Inari calls to them, as the gods and their retinue enter the main hall. Most of the humans follow after them to perform the enshrinement ritual, but Dad and Natori-san and Matoba-san hurry over to Kaname and Takashi.

Dad immediately pulls both Kaname and Takashi into a hug. “My boys. We were so worried! You’re all right? You’re alive? Human?”

“Yes,” Takashi says, happy. “We’re human.” Once Dad lets them go, Takashi takes Kaname’s hand and holds it, and looks even happier.

Forget about kimonos and serene joy. Kaname thinks this is the most lovely Takashi has ever been.

Chapter Text

They’re human and alive.

When they reach the shrine entrance, their friends and family are there, waiting. They don’t need Taki’s circles to see them, touch them, hug them. Not anymore.

They’re all going to go home.

Takashi feels euphoric, like he’s still flying over the city, full to the brim with Inari’s joy. He feels alive and light and clear. There’s none of the usual fatigue that swallows him up after getting too involved with the spirit world, no flush of fever creeping in to steal him from himself for days.

It’s a little— Disconcerting, to not feel bad. It makes him worry that maybe— Did Inari keep some hold of him after all? Is the bond between them fully gone? It was hard to tell inside the shrine, with the gods so close.

When they’re back in the car, driving through the streets, he closes his eyes, strains to feel the bond between himself and Inari, or the one between himself and Kaname. But both feel completely gone.

But he does feel Kaname beside him, alive and human. And he feels the omamori in his bag, a gentle feeling of safe coming from it even though he hasn’t put it on yet.

He needs to just feel like himself again first. Natsume Takashi, not Prince Natsume. He’s not in any rush to be Prince Natsume again, not for a long time, if ever.

”Finish your work,” Inari told him.

Another page is gone from the Book of Friends. It was so thick when he first got it, he never imagined he’d get anywhere close to the end before he passed the Book to Sensei. And now it’s even closer to being a pair of empty green covers.

It terrified him, the thought of it being empty. Because then what would happen to him? He’d lose his connection to Reiko, to his birth family. There was a good chance he’d lose Sensei, and if that happened—

When he first got the Book, he was eager to get through it, to stop the yokai who kept coming at him to get their Names or steal the Book. He was eager to get another glimpse of the grandmother he’d never known.

He couldn’t let himself remember his parents, back then. It hurt too much. He kept his only photo of them in his single cardboard box of possessions, tucked away, out of sight, out of mind.

He couldn’t remember his parents. But the Book forced him to remember Reiko. A gift that confuses him and fascinates him and gave him the desperate need to know her fate, because how could his be anything but the same?

He still doesn’t know her fate. He doesn’t know what happened to her after she left Kumamoto. He doesn’t know how she met his grandfather or what their life was like, if they had a life together at all.

He doesn’t know if the Names that are left in the Book will tell him any of that. Or if the Reiko in them will always be young and angry, playing childish games at the end of her childhood. Maybe after she tangled with Dakiniten, she gave it up for good. Tucked the Book away, out of sight, out of mind. Until that single box of her possessions was one day delivered to Takashi.

Matoba-san drops them off at Miura-san’s apartment. Everyone helps take out the big yokai-revealing circles and put the furniture back. Miura-san asks if she could keep the circles, to help her human co-workers meet her yokai co-workers. Taki is delighted, and Natori-san resigned.

Miura-san insists on making them breakfast before they go, since they missed it in all the rush. After they eat, Touko-san puts her hand on Takashi’s forehead, checking for fever.

“Are you feeling all right?” Touko-san asks, concerned. “You’re not tired? No fever?” She turns to Miura-san. “He usually has such awful fevers.”

“Did Reiko have fevers?” Shigeru-san asks.

“Not really,” Miura-san says, thinking. “She had the flu once, that was pretty bad.”

“She didn’t?” Takashi asks, surprised. He just assumed—

But why would she make the Book, if making it made her sick? He wracks his brain going through every memory of her taking Names, and realizes she was never sick in them, never feverish or weak. Angry, annoyed, sad, lonely, but not sick.

But he thought—

He knows being around yokai doesn’t seem to exhaust and sicken others like it does him. Natori-san doesn’t get sick after doing spells, though big ones are tiring for him. Yokai can make people sick, possess them, make all kinds of trouble. But that’s not the same thing.

Except Kaname did get sick from yokai. He got awful headaches and he felt tired all the time. Until he stopped being sick from them. And now he’s so much healthier.

Kaname and Sensei said being around Takashi made Kaname healthier, but that doesn’t make sense at all. And if Reiko was just as powerful as him but didn’t get sick—

“Why don’t I feel sick?” Takashi asks, not even sure who he’s asking, but just— Baffled.

“Um,” Kaname says, and looks uncomfortable.

Takashi looks at him, then looks at Nyanko-sensei. Nyanko-sensei stares back at him.

It’s lunch with Natori-san all over again. Them knowing things and not telling him.

“It’s not bad,” Kaname says, seeing his reaction. “Just— Weird and—“ He looks unsettled. “Dakiniten, uh— Purified us?”

“Purified?” Takashi echoes. “Like Sensei does?” Takashi gets purified a lot, with all the yokai Sensei flashes his light at. It never seems to do anything to Takashi, though, aside from getting yokai away from him, or out of him, usually.

“Not exactly,” Kaname says. “Dakiniten did it to Inari, too, to help her. And since we weren’t human—“

“Is that what happened?” Natori-san asks, curious. Everyone was so glad that they’re safe, that the gods are safe, that they haven’t really talked about the details yet. “If Dakiniten purified Inari, who purified Dakiniten?”

“She wasn’t corrupted,” Takashi explains, at least sure of that much. He remembers, from Dakiniten’s memories. “She’s a demon, or she used to be. She eats corruption. She—“

He goes very still.

“Did she—?” he asks, his hands covering his heart, belatedly protective.

Kaname’s expression says that she did.

“I tried to stop her, but— The Buddha said it was okay?” Kaname offers.

“The Buddha was there?!” Tanuma-san asks, and looks like he might faint.

“No, no,” Kaname says, a little frantic. “It was just— Dakiniten said—“

“Stop worrying,” Nyanko-sensei says, impatient. “Humans. You get so worried about everything. You should be happy that someone finally sorted you out. I’ve been trying for ages.”

“You have?” Takashi asks, alarmed.

“Someone had to,” Nyanko-sensei declares. “You think I wanted to have a weakling servant? You should be carrying me, not being carried!”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Takashi asks.

“Bah,” Nyanko-sensei grumps. “Why bother saying anything until it worked? I didn’t need you whining at me, asking me to make you feel better. At least I fixed my other servant.”

“So it was you!” Taki says, triumphant. “I knew it.”

“You said it was Takashi,” Kaname says, rounding on Nyanko-sensei.

“I didn’t want you whining at me about him either!” Nyanko-sensei huffs. “I managed to clear up some of it but it was taking forever.” He turns to Takashi. “And you kept making it worse, being sad and worrying all the time, and throwing yourself into trouble. Do you know how much work it is, being your bodyguard? I have to do everything around here. And for what? Squid?” He harrumphs and looks extremely put out.

“I’m sorry about the Book, Sensei,” Takashi says, and he truly is. Even if Takashi were to keel over right on the spot, Sensei couldn’t have it now. Dakiniten and Inari would take it. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You bet you will,” Nyanko-sensei says. “Now that both my servants have long life and happiness, you have plenty of time to devote yourselves to my greatness.”

“We do?” Takashi asks, surprised again.

“As if either of those two would be satisfied just giving you a pathetic little omamori,” Nyanko-sensei says. “What do you expect to happen when you go around helping gods?”

Takashi doesn’t really have an answer to that.

“That’s wonderful news, Nyankichi!” Touko-san says. “Thank you for taking such good care of our boys. You’re an excellent bodyguard.”

“The best,” Shigeru-san agrees. “Thank you, Nyangoro.” He pets Nyanko-sensei’s head.

“We’re very grateful, Sensei,” Tanuma-san agrees, with feeling. He reaches out and pets Nyanko-sensei’s back.

Nyanko-sensei preens. “That’s more like it.”

Everyone reaches out and starts petting Nyanko-sensei. He rolls onto his back so they can pet his belly, and purrs in delight.

“More servants! Yes!” he crows.

They say their goodbyes to Miura-san, and promise to keep in touch. Miura-san invites them to come by anytime, and says she’d love to have them visit her university again, and see one of her classes or join her on her field work.

She gives Takashi a cardboard box to take home, filled with Reiko’s watercolors and sketches and a small photo album, as well as the photo of Reiko and Miura-san from the bedroom wall. Takashi protests at taking such important things from her, but Miura-san insists.

“I see plenty of her in you,” Miura-san tells him. “And you’re much better than some old photos.”

He wears his new omamori on the walk to the train station. It feels like being in a shrine, but gentler. Sensei doesn’t have to scare any yokai away. Everyone just— Acknowledges Takashi respectfully. Some yokai stare at him, curious, and some look hungry. But they don’t lunge at him or try to eat him, even if they clearly want to. They know he’s protected.

Takashi knows that if he reaches out to any of them, to talk to them, they won’t be afraid of him. He knows if they need his help, they won’t be afraid to ask him. He feels safe, wearing the omamori, and he must feel safe to them, too.

“I’m sorry Inari and Dakiniten didn’t like your omamori,” Takashi says to Natori-san. He knows Natori-san and Tanuma-san worked very hard on it.

“I consider it an honor to have my work insulted by the gods,” Natori-san says. “My worst critics are my biggest fans.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Nyanko-sensei smirks.

“You’re one to talk,” Natori-san snipes back. “The gods had to do your job for you, too.”

Nyanko-sensei growls at Natori-san, and Natori-san glares daggers at Nyanko-sensei.

Takashi finds their squabbling reassuringly normal.

Meeting Miura-san, learning about Reiko from her, and from Dakiniten’s memories— And everything else that’s happened the past few days— It’s given Takashi all sorts of complicated feelings. Good ones and bad ones.

“Sensei,” he asks, once they’re settled into their seats on the train. “If I worry too much, will I get corrupted again?”

“Yes,” Nyanko-sensei says. “So stop worrying.”

“I don’t think I can,” Takashi admits.

“Meditation helps me,” Kaname says. “We could do it together?”

Kaname’s offered before. Takashi’s thoughts were too painful and overwhelming for him to just— Sit with them like that. But now— Maybe—

“Maybe,” Takashi says. “Does it really help?”

Kaname nods. “I still worry about things. Sometimes a lot. But I acknowledge my feelings and try to let them go. Focus on finding the path forward.”

Takashi thinks that doesn’t sound too awful. And right now a lot of things feel possible that never did before. He thinks about telling the Fujiwaras all those huge, painful things. That was definitely awful, but he did feel better, after. He told them what hurt and they helped him, just like they promised.

“Okay,” he says, bravely.

“Really?” Kaname asks, surprised.

“Yeah,” Takashi says. He wants to keep feeling the way he does right now. He wants to get healthier the way Kaname has. He wants a lot of things, but it’s so much to want anything. Even things he already has.

But he’s already been worrying too much. He doesn’t want to undo all of Dakiniten’s hard work before they even get home. He just wants to hold hands with Kaname and be happy. So he does, and they watch the scenery roll past their window.

There’s a vibration from his bag. He pulls out his cell phone and opens it. It’s a text from Shigeru-san. The picture they all took together outside the shrine, to celebrate Takashi and Kaname’s safe return.

Shigeru-san and Touko-san and Tanuma-san stand close around Takashi and Kaname, the five of them one big family. Taki and Miura-san are holding Nyanko-sensei together, and Taki has the little stuffed bear he bought her on Saturday. Natori-san is giving the camera a perfectly charismatic smile, and Nishimura and Kitamoto are raising their arms high in triumph.

Matoba-san took the picture.

There’s a second message, too. A row of heart emojis.

He thinks of Touko-san and Shigeru-san both holding him last night. Feeling safe with them, like the shrines, like the omamori. It’s amazing to feel safe.

Takashi types in a row of heart emojis of his own, and sends it back. Shigeru-san’s phone buzzes as the text arrives. Takashi peeks back through the seats and sees Shigeru-san smile, and show the text to Touko-san, and she smiles, too.

Takashi feels alive and light and clear.

He saves the photo. Looks back at the texts they’ve sent each other. All the pieces of his life he’s shared with them, and all the love they’ve shared right back.

He switches to the texts he’s shared with Kaname. And stops, surprised.

There’s a photo here, too. It was sent from his phone to Kaname on Saturday morning, when they were visiting the universities.

It’s a picture of himself with the injured suiko. When it was scared and he was calming it down with the dango.

Below it is the text: “Your idiot is feeding my dango to a stray. Come get him.” And then the address of the shop next door.

“Did Sensei take this?” Takashi asks.

“Yeah,” Kaname says, and looks at the photo like—

Like he looked at Takashi that day in the alley.

Like what he’s looking at is something wonderful. Precious. Loved.

Takashi hopes Reiko felt like this, sometimes. Full of so much love. With Miura-san, or anyone.

Takashi reaches over and prods Nyanko-sensei, waking him from his nap on Kaname’s lap. “When did you learn to take pictures? You don’t even have thumbs normally. And that wasn’t your dango, I already gave you your dango.”

“All dango are my dango,” Nyanko-sensei declares. “It’s generous of me to let anyone else have a single one.”

Takashi shakes his head, then looks at the picture again. Saves it, then puts the phone away.

“We should go back again soon,” Takashi decides. “We have to visit Inari and Dakiniten. And we can have lunch with Natori-san and Miura-san. And see Miura-san’s university again. Maybe we could help her with that watershed project. It sounds nice.”

“Yeah,” Kaname says, and takes Takashi’s hand again. “It sounds really nice.”

The following Saturday, Takashi and Kaname and Nyanko-sensei go to visit Matoba-san. Takashi breaks the seal on the pot with the trapped yokai inside. Then — after Sensei gives it a strong purification blast — Takashi apologizes to it, gives the yokai a dango, and helps it.