#natsuyuu fic

[taizi]

run, boy, run

chapter four

natsume yuujinchou pairing: one-sided kitanishi word count: 3k summary: Nishimura has a cursed mark on his arm, a crush on Natsume’s famous idol friend, and a whole lot of brand new problems that start and end with the taboo circle on his arm. full circle au

read on ao3

x

Satoru’s first clue that something is off is the black town car with dark-tinted windows parked a few blocks down from his house.

Most of his neighbors don’t have cars, and the ones who do have little boxy, fuel-efficient numbers that live under tarps in driveways until it’s time for the bi-monthly grocery haul.

The unfamiliar vehicle makes his lizard brain stir uneasily, but Satoru has been having a hard time lately distinguishing between things he should actually be worried about and things the curse is twisting all out of proportion.

Since no one else on the street is outwardly panicking, he takes that as his cue to keep walking.  

Satoru’s second clue is what gives him real pause. Fish, perched on his shoulder, is making a noise he’s never heard from her before. It’s a subvocal thing, low and rumbling, and her beady eyes are fixed without wavering on the car.

Or something near the car.

Automatically, his hand drifts toward his pocket, and the cellphone there that’s practically bursting with the names of people who made him swear to reach out to them if he was in trouble.

Kiyoshi was still home when I left, Satoru thinks. I could just turn around.

But mom was still home, too, and if he walked back through the front door at the same time he should have been walking into homeroom, she would blow a fuse.

The thought of her tirade causes his arm to twinge sharply, and he drops his hand away from his pocket. Be normal, he scolds himself. You promised Kitamoto you’d be normal. Normal people don’t worry about random cars.

Since he first discovered Taki’s circle, Satoru has seen dozens of yokai around town, big and small, mostly minding their own business. And their own business had very little to do with Satoru unless he stuck his nose in it. If there’s a spirit over there on the other end of the street, one that’s causing Fish to bait her wings and grumble, then there’s a good chance it doesn’t have anything to do with Satoru anyway.

At the very least, he’s certain that it isn’t the monster that cursed him. He and Fish have an agreed-upon signal for that, which is essentially just Fish screeching like a klaxon until help shows up.

Still, Satoru pivots on his heel and cuts down a side-street. He’ll take the long way to school today. He doesn’t want to go near that car.

“We keep meeting in alleys,” an unfortunately familiar voice says cheerfully, just before a hand lands on his shoulder.

Fish takes off in a flurry of feathers, a distant speck in the sky before anyone could even think about catching her. The first thing Satoru feels is relief that she’s gone. Right on the heels of relief comes a cool wash of dread, and a dull, steady ache in his arm. He turns, already knowing who he’ll find behind him.

As easily as if they’re old friends, Matoba Seiji smiles.

#

At school, Nishimura’s friends are lingering by the entrance, getting more and more restless with every second. When the bell rings, and they should all be in class, detention is the last thing on their minds.

Over the last week, one or more of them has always been there to walk with Nishimura before and after school, but he insisted and they agreed to let the constant guard taper off a bit.

He’s been doing a lot better since their war council with Natori, but the curse is still active and present in his mind, and they can see it when it goes to work on him. When Nishimura starts to think his friends don’t trust him to do something as simple as make it to school on his own, and his arm blooms with vivid, obscene color, the only thing they can do is assure him. Tell him of course that isn’t true, they do trust him, and if he thinks he doesn’t need an entourage, then they’ll be willing to back off a bit and give it a try. Anything that might give him a foothold to wrestle control of his mind back.

But he was supposed to be here nearly ten minutes ago, even accounting for the way he constantly gets distracted by cute dogs and weird bugs and talkative neighbors. Tsuji, who lives a few houses down from Nishimura, once famously dragged him into homeroom by the elbow and announced, “I bumped into him in the combini this morning, holding the bento he bought for lunch in his hands, and he told me he forgot about school until he saw my uniform.” It was hilarious at the time.

“Sensei left early to make sure he got here,” Natsume says tersely. “Something’s wrong.”

“I’m calling Kiyoshi-niisan,” Kitamoto says, phone already pressed to his ear.  

Taki, who has been pacing in restless circles since Nishimura didn’t show up on time, says, “He can’t see. He doesn’t have the circle anymore. What if—”

“Don’t,” Tanuma says, not unkindly, but more like he can’t bear to listen to her bolt down that frightening rabbit hole. “I’m sure he’s okay. Fish would have told us if he wasn’t.”

At about that moment, in an example of the most absurdly perfect timing any bird has ever had, an agitated magpie flutters down onto the closed gate and raises the alarm.

#

Sitting in the backseat of the town car, his arms folded tightly across his front to hide the way his hands are trembling, the unconscious Nyanko-sensei a heavy, boneless weight in his lap, Satoru says, as firmly as he can manage, “I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do,” Matoba replies easily. “Your little pet is proof of that.”

Even more glad now that Fish seized the opportunity to bolt at the first sign of trouble, Satoru insists, “She’s just a bird. There’s a ton of birds just like her around here. Natsume’s mom has crows in her garden.”

He doesn’t know how long he’ll get away with playing dumb—when Nyanko-sensei scared Matoba off that night after the visit with Natori, the lucky cat spoke in front of them both. There’s no way this guy forgot about that. But Satoru has no idea what is safe to discuss with this boogeyman Natsume was so careful to warn him about, so he defaults to bald-faced denial.  

Something darts across Matoba’s face that looks like curiosity when Satoru mentions Touko, there and gone again in a split-second.

“This conversation would go a lot smoother if you’d do me the courtesy of honesty,” is what Matoba says, as if he’s been the epitome of good manners this entire time.  

The half of Satoru’s brain that isn’t spinning in anxious circles puffs up in indignation.  

“Courtesy? You’re the one who abducted me on my way to school!”

Rather than offense, Matoba seems to take delight in his attitude. He’s weirdly likable, for all that he’s also very dangerous and powerful, if Natsume and Nyanko-sensei are to be believed. It creates a sense of conflict in Satoru’s head, because part of him wants to sit here and argue with the friendly, conversational man, while another, much larger part wants to run far, far away.

That larger part wins, because Satoru is literally in the backseat of a strange car, alone, with his phone sitting out of reach on the dashboard up front.

He wonders, for a brief, hysterical moment, if anyone is missing him yet.  

“I can see why you and Natsume are friends,” Matoba says, as if he’s a proud relative and Natsume is a charming, if ornery, little cousin. “And I can see that you know more than you are willing to share with me. Is that loyalty, I wonder? Or ignorance?” He leans in, his long hair falling over his shoulder, and says, “Are you being kept in the dark?”

Satoru presses his arms tighter against his middle, trying to think past the hurthurthurt that pulses through the curse mark. He’s glad he wore long sleeves today.

He’s beginning to see shadows again, even here in the well-lit interior of the car. It’s a fog that creeps into his head, past reason and logic and common sense. Sometimes Satoru can feel it starting to happen, his mind turning against him as dark sympathetic magic makes him doubt, but there’s nothing he can do when that happens except cling to what he knows and hope it’s enough.  

He remembers, against better judgement, being made to wash the seeing circle away. Natori’s face frowning at him from across the table, even though he got what he wanted.

Was he being kept in the dark?

No, Satoru thinks. It was for his own good. His friends were worried.

Were they? Then where are they? If they’re so worried about him, why aren’t they here?

They don’t know where I am, Satoru thinks wildly. No one knows where I am.

He doesn’t know where he is, either. They’ve been driving for what feels like a long time, and the windows are too dark to see through unless he presses his face against the glass and he won’t do that while Matoba is watching him. Nyanko-sensei, Natsume’s unofficial shiki and glorified babysitter, is sprawled across Satoru’s knees in an unnatural sleep and dead to the world.

He’s on his own.

“I’m sure you must have heard stories about me,” the man says, almost gently. He’s still smiling. “But really, I’m not so bad. I just want to have a talk, and then I’ll drop you off wherever you want.”

Rattled, Satoru dares to glance sidelong at him. Matoba’s smile widens.

“All you have to do is tell me the truth,” he goes on. “Just level with me. Are your eyes the same as mine? Do you see the same strange world that I do? Is that why you and Natsume are such good friends, hm? A common perspective? It would explain a lot.”

Something about that remark wriggles past everything else, a slippery eel darting through muddy water. It’s the first clear-headed thought Satoru manages to grasp.

“What’s that mean?” he asks. “What does it have to do with us being friends?”

“Well, historically, Natsume doesn’t have the best track record, does he?” Matoba’s voice is rich with laughter. It isn’t mean-spirited, but it rubs Satoru wrong anyway. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” Satoru blurts. The pain in his arm recedes and the shadows peel away—he’s still afraid, but it’s the normal sort of fear now. It’s not the influence of a monster, leaning on him until he can’t see or think or hear straight. And it’s eclipsed, easily, by irritation. “He’s my friend because he’s funny and sarcastic and nice to everybody and a sore loser at trivia games. I like him. Our whole class likes him. It has nothing to do with whatever you’re talking about.”

That curiosity flicks across Matoba’s expression again, like something Satoru told him is brand-new information, completely unheard of.

It doesn’t do anything to curb his knowing smile which, in Satoru’s opinion, has become less likable and more punchable with every second Matoba talks about Natsume like he actually knows anything about him.

“And even if he did see your strange world, or whatever, what does that have to do with me? And what are you accomplishing by kidnapping me?”

“I would hardly call it kidnapping—”

“There are so many other things he has to worry about without worrying about you,” Satoru goes on, warming up to the subject. “You just show up and make his life difficult and threaten him and drag him into dangerous situations like he doesn’t endanger himself enough as it is! Yeah, he told me stories about you, because you scare him.”

For the first time, Matoba seems genuinely thrown-off.

“No I don’t,” the man says. “He’s well aware that there are better things to be afraid of.”

Satoru knows that much, too. Being cursed by a yokai on the edge of the woods was equally as scary as being forced into a car by a stranger. Maybe those two situations were entirely different, but the way Satoru’s heart thundered in his chest, the way he wondered for a brutally honest split-second if he’d ever see his brother or his friends again, was exactly the same.

“That's the point,” Satoru says belligerently, aware that he’s digging his own grave, “Natsume knows a monster when he sees one.”

Matoba studies him with keen eyes. His smirk is a quiet, thoughtful thing now.

“One last question,” he says. Lifting a pale, elegant hand, he points to the other side of the partition, at the burly figure in the driver’s seat. “What do you think of that guy?”

Burying anxious fingers in Nyanko-sensei’s thick fur, Satoru darts a glance that way, trying to find the trap in Matoba’s words. The driver, for his part, doesn’t turn to look back or acknowledge Matoba in any way.

“I don’t know,” Satoru says defensively. “He hasn’t said anything this whole time.”

Matoba’s smile widens, as pleased as a cat with a canary.

“That’s fair,” he replies, and gestures with his hand. The driver catches the signal somehow and twirls the steering wheel, pulling the car around in a neat U-turn. “A deal’s a deal. Where am I taking you?”

Home, Satoru wants to say, except mom will be there, and she’ll be angry if he shows up when he’s not supposed to. Kitamoto, is his very next thought, filled with wanting, so he says, “School. Even though I’ll definitely have detention thanks to you.”

“Studious,” Matoba says with a laugh. “I admire that.”

Rubbing one of Nyanko-sensei’s velvety ears between his fingers, Satoru asks, “When will sensei wake up?”

“I’d give it another hour,” Matoba replies, his tone reassuring. “He’s a little too eager with his teeth when it’s just the two of us, so I figured it was best to be extra cautious.”

Secretly, Satoru wishes Nyanko-sensei had managed to get one good bite in. Then maybe Matoba would have slightly less to be smug about.

Something strikes the windshield, and Satoru flinches in surprise. The car continues gliding smoothly forward, but another tiny projectile joins the first, and then another after that. Satoru stares as all the windows on the car are plastered with scraps of paper until the vehicle is entirely covered.

The interior is dim now, cave-like, and Satoru clutches Nyanko-sensei closer.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Matoba says, making another gesture. The car slows and comes to a stop. He sounds unbothered, unlocking the doors with the button panel by his arm. “They’re here for you.”

When the door lock springs up, Satoru grapples for the handle and wrenches it open before Matoba can change his mind. He all but topples out of the car, Natsume’s cat clutched in the crook of one arm.

By the time he’s managed to find his feet, large hands are on his shoulders, guiding him upright. He jerks back reflexively, whipping his head around, but it’s not another stranger. It’s Natori, and the breath goes out of Satoru’s lungs in a rush of relief. He doesn’t even question how the man is standing here in front of him, the last place on earth a famous actor should be.

“Easy,” the man says, studying Satoru’s face carefully. “Are you hurt?”

Satoru shakes his head. For all that he was running his mouth a moment ago, he’s got nothing to say now. He lets himself be pushed behind Natori’s back as Natori makes himself a wall between Satoru and Matoba.

“There is such a thing,” Natori grits out, glaring murder at his shadowy counterpart, “as going too far.”

“You’re always one step ahead of me, Shuuichi-kun,” Matoba replies genially. “It seems like every remarkable child I manage to find has already been snatched up by the Natori clan.”

“This child has a family willing to press charges,” Natori bites back. “If you don’t think his aunt would take you to court and drag your name through dirt until she won, that’s only because you haven’t met her yet.”

Kitamoto’s mom, Satoru’s Auntie Mikako, is a force of nature. If she got wind of this, it’s over for Matoba already.

But he remembers Natsume’s warnings, how he talked about Matoba’s connections and his powerful family, and he doesn’t want the Kitamotos anywhere near him.

“Natori-dono,” someone behind Satoru says.  

Jerking his head, as if shaking off a collar someone tried to put around his neck, Natori says, “This is far from over. But for now, get lost.”

“It’s always such a pleasure,” Matoba laughs, and leans out the door Satoru left hanging ajar to pass Satoru’s phone to Natori. After snapping the door shut smartly, he rolls down the window, because of course he has something else to say. Satoru tenses when Matoba looks at him, and Natori makes a furious sound, but the strange man only adds in parting, “Natsume is lucky to have a friend like you. I hope he keeps you close.”

From anyone else, it might have been a threat. From Matoba, it sounds genuine. For the life of him, Satoru can’t get a bead on this guy at all.

When the car pulls away, Natori says, “Follow. Make sure he leaves,” which Satoru assumes is a command to his shiki. He’s too busy staring down at the lucky cat in his arms and keeping his breathing steady to worry overmuch about what’s going on around him now.

That is, until Natori touches his chin, a gentle instruction to lift his head. The man looks angry and exhausted and worried, his eyes sharp behind his glasses.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he demands.

“I’m sure,” Satoru replies. “All he did was talk to me. He asked me questions about Natsume and the guy driving the car and then said he’d drop me off at school. He’s really weird.”

Natori’s face does something strange. “There wasn’t a guy driving the car.”

Satoru frowns at him, pushed well past his personal threshold of stuff he’s willing to put up with. He’s over today. He’s going to have to deal with an unexplained absence from school and his mom’s temper when she finds out, but that sounds like tomorrow’s problem. All he wants right now is his bird and his best friend and a stack of comfort movies and sugary snacks, and maybe his brother, too. He doesn’t think that’s too much to ask for.

“It’s not like it was driving itself,” he mutters.

“No,” Natori says slowly. “You misunderstood me. There wasn’t a human driving the car.”

Satoru blinks at him. As he watches, a little black tattoo crawls up the side of Natori’s face, coming to rest on his forehead.

“Oh,” he says dumbly.

Belatedly, he looks over his shoulder, and finds Hiiragi lingering behind him, where she’s probably been this whole time. She’s a little hazy around the edges, like he needs to squint to see her properly, but she’s there.

“You’re not wearing the circle?” Natori asks in a quiet voice. He sounds like he already knows the answer.

Satoru shakes his head, wide-eyed.

“Guess my eyes adjusted,” he whispers.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #nishimura satoru #matoba seiji #natori shuuichi #my writing #full circle #natsuyuu fic #and it only took me 2 years :)

[coquelicoq]

hi hi i share your desire for natsume from natsumes book of friends to be loved by ppl who fully accept that hes psychotic(as far as they know) and hope u don't mind if i rec one of my favorite stories on AO3 that has that exact premise and makes me cry a little every time: Thin Air by riverdaze

i don't mind at all! it just so happens to be one of my favorites too 😊

#thanks for telling me! if i hadn't read it yet i would definitely want to <3 #natsume's book of friends #natsuyuu fic #asks #anon

[liquidsaints]

the rhythm in your heart pairing: tanunatsu word count: 2.2k happy holidays @natsuni-ghostmoon !! this is my gift for you for the @natsume-ss <3 i hope you like it!

Natsume and Tanuma help a youkai find their flute on a snowy winter night.

read on ao3

#tanunatsu #natsume yuujinchou #natsumess2022 #tanuma kaname #natsume takashi #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #mine #natsuyuu fic

[akabloom]

request for @scorpionatori

used one of the interactions i screenshotted a little while back :3c

#i have more i’d love to draw but ive been so busy!!!! #they will happen i swear 😤 #i love this fic sm ^_^ #natsuyuu #natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu au #requests #tanuma kaname #natori shuuichi

[bold-embrace]

Narrator voice: he would not be more careful

#doodles #for all the fic authors who write natsume getting bodied by youkai then going to tanuma’s house instead of home: this ones for u #natsume yuujinchou #tanunatsu #tanuma kaname #natsume takashi #natsuyuu #natsumes book of friends #tanuma you can’t just touch the touch starved friend #he’ll combust #self indulgent but i needed it #my art

[plumoh]

a prayer and a coin; chapter 1

Natsume Yuujinchou & Noragami crossover fic.

Rating: G Wordcount: 2213 Characters in this chapter: Natsume & Yato Summary: Takashi calls a god. It makes things easier. Note: AO3 link. The first few chapters will cover the setting for this crossover when Natsume is still a child, then the following ones will most likely be standalones.

Takashi thinks it's worth a shot.

He's tried everything up until now, and nothing worked. He tried telling his guardians that something was lurking in the house sometimes, he tried asking for advice at school but the teachers weren't of big help, he tried the little tricks he saw in books like putting salt in front of doors. He is running out of ideas and the monsters keep following him everywhere he goes.

So one day, he scribbles down the phone number he sees on walls and billboards on his way back from school, thinks that this Yato god must be fake but… but the phone number is tagged in large and ugly handwriting and nobody seems to notice it. People would have gossiped about vandalism if they could see it. So that means this is a real god, right? A god who is only visible to those who need help?

Takashi runs home to avoid encountering any monsters. He pushes the door open, throws his backpack on the ground and quickly surveys the apartment to make sure his guardians are still at work. Only silence greets him, which makes him sigh in relief. He retrieves the piece of paper from his pocket, ambles towards the house phone, and dials.

He feels like his hammering heart is going to crash through his ribcage. There is one ring, then another, and these are the most nerve-wracking three seconds of his life.

And finally, someone picks up.

“Hi, thank you for calling! Fast, cheap and reliable, delivery god Yato at your service!”

Takashi slowly moves the phone handset away from his ear, and blinks. He’s not sure what he expected but it is…not that.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Takashi fumbles with the handset in his haste to reply. “Y-Yes, sorry. Thanks for answering my call.”

“Oh, a kid. What’s troubling you?”

“Um. I don’t know how to explain it.”

He hears something like a sigh on the other side. “Do you need help doing your homework? Did you lose something? Are you bullied at school?”

Takashi winces a little at the last suggestion, but this is not an issue he can’t resolve by himself, so he swallows and goes for it.

“I…I see monsters sometimes. They like scaring me and nobody believes me when I say they’re here. They all think I’m lying.”

Takashi nervously glances around the room, suddenly aware that any of the little monsters could have entered the apartment when he opened the door. He doesn’t hear or see anything hiding behind the couch, or flying over his head, so he’s probably safe for now.

Yatogami is quiet and doesn’t answer right away. Takashi’s heart drops to his stomach at the thought of a god not believing him either. Red-faced, his throat is getting dry and he feels panic rising in his body.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called,” he mumbles.

“No, no, kid, that’s alright,” Yatogami says hurriedly, and he tacks on a cheerful laugh at the end of his sentence. “You were right to call! So you’re telling me you can see ayakashi? Big colorful monsters with lots of eyes looking at you like you’re a feast?”

Takashi wracks his brain to find a monster similar to that description.

“I think I’ve seen small ones around on my way to school,” he says. “Like spiders? Or worms? But the monsters I usually see look like ghosts, or sometimes like people. They often wear traditional clothes or have masks.”

Takashi easily recognizes this type of monster (ayakashi?) because there is something unsettling about them—the one-eyed mask, the crooked fingers, the sinister smile. And they always specifically address him, even in a crowd. Then they follow him home and try to eat him.

The little colorful ayakashi don’t bother him as much, but he never expects to see them so close to other people or hiding in the cracks of the pavement, so that makes him anxious in a different way. What if they climbed on people and got into their homes?

“Hm… Well, you’re sensitive to both ayakashi and youkai, which is kind of rare,” Yatogami muses. “Do you mind if I come over to explain a few things? That will be easier than over the phone.”

Takashi startles at the request. “I-I’m not sure it’s a good idea… My uncle and my aunt are going to be home soon, and I’m not supposed to have guests over.”

“Don’t worry about that! They won’t be able to see me, and I can disappear just as fast as I appeared.”

And, probably to prove his point, someone materializes next to him. Takashi drops the phone and scrambles back against the wall, stupefied, while the man in front of him grins and lowers his cellphone.

“See? Divine teleportation!”

Yatogami is…a man no older than some of the cousins he sees at family dinners. He’s wearing a tracksuit. Takashi was imagining formal wear, like a kimono or at least a grown-up’s suit, so he’s completely taken aback by the ordinary person he’s seeing.

These blue eyes, however, are the most god-like feature on Yatogami—sharp, bright and all too knowing. Takashi feels pinned by that gaze, even though the rest of the god’s face is nothing but friendly.

“So, what’s your name, kid?”

Takashi does his best to refocus on the conversation, despite the odd feeling running the entire length of his body. Maybe being near a god naturally makes people uneasy.

“I’m Natsume Takashi,” he replies slowly. “Should I… Should I call you Yato-sama? You look so normal.”

Yatogami snorts. “Well, that’d be weird if ‘god’ was written on my forehead!”

“I mean, you’re wearing normal clothes…”

“They’re comfortable and perfect for the kind of jobs I do. And if you want to call me ‘Yato-sama’, go for it, Takashi!” The grin that splits Yatogami’s face in two looks genuine enough. “I’m a god after all, call me whatever you prefer.”

Takashi nods. “Yato-sama then.” It’d be rude if he doesn’t address a god with propriety, even if the god in question looks like he’s about to go on his morning run.

“I’m going to give you some advice, since you’re having trouble with ayakashi and youkai. Some people consider them the same thing, but in my experience ayakashi are less intelligent than youkai. Ayakashi are creatures that simply feed off people’s negative energy, while there are all sorts of youkai. You’ve probably seen many of them. Do you have paper and a pencil?”

Wordlessly, Takashi goes back to the front door to bring his backpack over. He reaches into it and retrieves the requested items (Takashi is giving Yatogami his math notebook, so he hopes there will be enough pages left for him to use at school). Yatogami takes them with a thanks and starts sketching on a blank page of the notebook with inhuman speed. He shows the results to a surprised Takashi.

“I’ve seen that one,” Takashi blurts out, pointing to a one-eyed, round body. “And the kappa. And some others that look a bit like what you drew.” He meets Yatogami’s eyes. “You’re very good at drawing.”

“One of my many hidden talents.” Yatogami winks. “What I’ve drawn are youkai. Most of them are capable of speech but they have varying degrees of intelligence. You should ignore them if they start talking to you, and if they’re really persistent, run to a temple. They don’t like their sacred grounds. Ayakashi will also leave you alone if you go to a temple, but you don’t have to worry about them as long as you don’t have strong negative emotions.”

Takashi frowns. “You said that… ayakashi like negative emotions? Like anger?”

“Anger, sadness, frustration, guilt, all sorts of things that humans don’t like feeling. So you’d better keep yourself in check, especially since you can see them.” Yatogami draws more figures on the paper, and this time the drawings only depict strange shapes with many eyes on their bodies. “They look kind of gross, right?”

Takashi gives a tiny nod. He doesn’t remember seeing huge creatures resembling the drawings, but maybe he just wasn’t paying attention. The small ones probably think they’re discreet enough to pass through the cracks and get closer to humans without them noticing.

“Thank you for telling me what these monsters are,” Takashi says, bowing his head. “I can’t talk about it with anyone, so I’m really glad you don’t think I’m a liar.”

Yatogami stills his hand, and his gaze settles on Takashi. There is…a dangerous glint in these blue, blue eyes.

“Humans are so frustrating to understand,” Yatogami sighs, shaking his head. “You’re just a kid, so you’ll grow up and become someone different. Surround yourself with people who like you for you.”

It’s easier said than done. All the friends Takashi tried to make eventually left him because they found him weird and scary—but he’s not going to tell that to Yatogami, who is only trying to help.

Yatogami sets the notebook and the pencil on the dining table, and with his back to Takashi, he says, “I can’t teach you how to defend yourself from youkai and ayakashi, but you can call me whenever you’re in trouble, alright?” Then he whirls around, and his gigantic grin is back on his face. “That will only cost you 5 yen!”

Takashi blinks. “5 yen?”

“Yeah! I’m not going to steal from a kid. Give me a 5-yen coin every time you call me and that will do.”

This is the oddest payment Takashi has ever heard of. He didn't even think about payment in the first place; he saw the phone number, a promise to help for any kind of issue and the hope of living a better life. But Yatogami seems sincere and he isn't looking at Takashi like he's pulling his leg or going to withdraw his offer. There is a sort of reassuring presence that emanates from the god—the aura of someone who knows what they're doing.

Takashi, despite the weird encounter, likes Yatogami. He's only had one conversation with him but he already looks forward to their next meeting.

“I probably have some coins in my bag… I'm not sure I have 5-yen coins, so if I give you 10 yen, does it mean I'm paying you in advance?”

Yatogami shrugs. “I usually only accept 5 yen, but I can make an exception.”

Takashi digs into his school bag, in the inside pocket near the bottom. He only gets enough money from his aunt and uncle to buy a snack every week or so, which means he should be really careful about storing it to avoid losing it. He pats around the pocket and finally fishes out a few small coins. There is no 5-yen coin, but like he suspected, he has a 10-yen coin.

“Here.” He hands the coin to Yatogami, who picks it up with a smile. “I don't know when I'll call you again, but I have your phone number written on a piece of paper so I won't forget it.”

Yatogami’s mouth quirks up, like he's resisting making a joke. He shakes his head, then flips the coin to toss it in the air and catches it in a swift motion.

“Thanks for the money. Be sure to call me back one day, because you'd be losing 5 yen if you don't!”

“It's only 5 yen,” Takashi says, puzzled.

“You have to start small to become rich, kid.” Yatogami looks around, stares at the front door a little longer than necessary, then says, “Well, I have to go now. Avoid trouble when you can, call me when you want me to deal with whatever problem you have! See you, Takashi!”

“Ah, uh, goodbye, Yato-sama!”

Right as Takashi’s words leave his mouth, Yatogami vanishes in a dance of light and the front door opens.

“Oh Takashi, you're already home?”

Takashi jumps towards the table to take Yatogami's drawings and stuff them into his bag. His aunt doesn't seem interested in what he's doing and simply heads towards the kitchen. She is humming a song that often gets broadcast on the radio, and Takashi hears some rustling from plastic bags. She is probably going to start on dinner, which means he should go back to his room and do his homework.

Takashi stuffs back Yatogami’s phone number in his pocket and lugs his backpack to his room. He should put the piece of paper somewhere that will be easy to reach—maybe in the pockets of his coat, or in the front pocket of his backpack. If he’s not at home, he can use a payphone to call. He should actually write the phone number on multiple pieces of paper, in case he loses one of them. And leave one under his pillow. That way, he’ll be able to call Yatogami whenever he needs to.

Satisfied and kind of giddy, Takashi sits at the tiny coffee table in his room and starts his math homework. Yatogami’s drawings are staring at him all the while, but Takashi, for once, isn’t scared of looking at these strange and awful creatures. They exist, and there are other people who can see them. He’s not alone.

#natsuyuu #noragami #natsume takashi #yato #natsume yuujinchou #fic: a prayer and a coin #i love these two series SO MUCH 8(( #and soooo many characters are about to become friends

[lunasohma]

Shuuichi and Sadie girl :’)

[ it’s raining cats and dogs ]

#I’ll never finish lol #probably #but this was #10-01-20 #natori shuuichi #it’s raining cats and dogs #my fic art #my art #nyanko-sensei #natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #fanart #natori #backlog #firealpaca

[tsukana]

shut UP NAMI TAMAKI DID A VERSION OF BELIEVE FOR THE FIRST TAKE???????? OH MY GOD

#tsu talks #re-entering my gundam seed/destiny rewatch era for the movie coming out at the end of the month fr. #reread that BANGER as fuck timetravel fic on ao3 that anon posted the other day and have been relistening to the soundtrack #which along w/natsuyuu osts is like. the only music on my phone not-spotify #Youtube

[scorpionatori]

hee hee heeee it’s all coming together

#thank youuu akabloom for letting me do a fic based off you au ideas #I’m having so much fun with this #natsume yuujinchou #I call this au ‘natsuyuu slightly to the left’

[hyephyep]

Natsume Yuujinchou: learning how to tell people the things that feel too important to say out loud

#was complimenting a fic author and went 'wait. this just describes all of natsuyuu doesnt it' #natsuyuu

[taizi]

soft ground, claiming moon

out-monster the monster

@natsumeweek 2023 day 1; sun/moon read on ao3

(next) 

x

The worst part about all of this is that Shuuichi found out by accident.

Natsume was uncharacteristically energetic on the phone. Not so much excited as anxious, and not overly so by any normal person’s standards, but Shuuichi knew him just well enough to tell.

It wasn’t his place to pry. But Shuuichi spent a good chunk of his time worrying about that boy, small and overshadowed and terribly lonely, so maybe he was entitled to prying just a little.

“Any big plans this weekend?” he said conversationally.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know if you’d call them ‘big,’” Natsume replied, with the slightest trip in his tone that would have been a huff of laughter if Shuuichi was talking to anyone else. “All of us are staying at the temple. Tanuma’s place, I mean. Even Ogata and Shibata are going to be there.”

“So it’s a party,” Shuuichi teased, something in his heart going soft the way it always does when he’s reminded that Natsume has a big group of chaotic, good-natured friends who are happy to go out of their way to spend time with him. “I didn’t know you had it in you! Especially since you fight tooth and nail to avoid going to all the ones I invite you to.”

This time, Natsume really did breathe out a laugh. It was a big personal win for Shuuichi.

“Definitely not a party,” the kid said dryly. “At least, not by your standards.”

“Well, it’s at least partly a party if the whole gang’s getting together. What’s the occasion?”

“The full moon rises on Saturday,” Natsume explained, as if that was a very normal thing that normal people were both aware of and planned events around. 

“If you tell me Taki has finally turned you into a witch, I’ll be very disappointed,” Shuuichi said, only half-joking.

“I don’t want to be a witch or an exorcist, thanks. I have enough on my plate as it is, don’t you think?”

Considering one half of his bloodline’s very storied history, and the gift—or curse—his heritage granted him, Shuuichi has to admit that Natsume makes a compelling argument. It’s a mark of how far they’ve come that they’re able to joke about it with each other on the phone.

“Satchan’s probably going to be too tired to do much of anything,” Natsume was saying. “I think we’ll mostly wind up napping and watching movies.”

Ah, the small-town mountain life, Shuuichi thought to himself, not unkindly. He would have gone insane with boredom if he was stuck in Hitoyoshi at fourteen, but Natsume, who has lived in a dozen different places in half as many years, genuinely seems to love it. At least there’s relatively less trouble for him to find out there. 

At least he’s well-protected from people like Shuuichi out there—people who made a career out of hunting down people like Natsume.

Shaking away the grimmer thoughts, Shuuichi asked, “Do I know Satchan?” 

He was familiar with the names of Natsume’s friends, given how often Natsume talked about them, but that one wasn’t ringing a bell. 

“Oh, uh, I meant Nishimura,” Natsume said quickly. He sounded embarrassed. “That’s—Kitamoto calls him that.” 

Saving the cutesy nickname as mockery material for another day—they would definitely be revisiting that—Shuuichi said, “Ah, your friend with the excellent taste in movies! Is he not well?”

“He’s fine.” Natsume’s tone took an oddly defensive turn. “We’re taking care of him.”

Something about that pinged in Shuuichi’s brain as very weird, but a lot of conversations with Natsume did that. If he stopped and wondered about every strange thing his young friend said, he’d never get anything done.

It’s not until much, much later, when Shuuichi is juggling emails from his agent about his role in an upcoming period piece and exorcist correspondence regarding a grudge in Osaka, that it occurs to him what weirdness, exactly, the back of his mind had picked up. 

A few weeks ago, there was an animal attack out in the forest that all the children frequented. Shuuichi found out through Touko, who called him to explain why Natsume would not be making the trip to Tokyo to visit him on set after all. Satoru was in the hospital, she told him. Natsume hadn’t gone to school in days, camping in the boy’s hospital room with their friends. They could hardly be budged. 

It was so strange, Touko had said tearfully, because no one in town had a dog anywhere near big enough to do that kind of damage. And there certainly weren’t any wolves left in Japan.

He had reached out to Natsume the next day, sending him a paper man that delivered the question, Do you need my expertise? 

He was a monster hunter, and it was a simple, unacknowledged way to ask if there were monsters at large in Kyushu. Natsume’s reply came within the hour, the talisman paper turned brittle with the powerful signature of his magic. It was ozone and static electricity, the wildness of nature. The touch of it contained the barest hint of a threat. 

No, it read. We’re taking care of him. 

“Fuck,” Shuuichi says out loud, to Sasago and Hiiragi’s disdain and Urihime’s delight. He’s up and moving a second later, barking over his shoulder for the familiars to begin sealing the doors and windows, setting up the barrier, preparing the house for an extended absence. One never knew how long a job might take. 

Shuuichi yanks open a cabinet door in his workshop. A neat row of silver tools glint with promise beneath the warm lamp light.

There is at least one wolf left in Japan. 

#natsumeweek #natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #natsume takashi #natori shuuichi #my writing #natsuyuu fic #im a day behind :') #soft ground claiming moon

[coquelicoq]

*bun hops in* Hi! So, yesterday I saw your post about Nyanko-sensei being (to people no on the known) Natsume's emotional support animal, and it remind me of a fic (in a very vague, almost unrelated way, not about sensei himself but about the concept of external perception). I've been debating if it would be annoying to send you another rec fic, but in the end I'm excited seeing you enjoy Natsume stuff, so I hope it's okay I send this.

The fic is "Thin Air" by riverdaze in AO3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18421755?view_full_work=true) and it's about other people's thoughts on Natsume. I think you would enjoy the message it has.

That's all, have a lovely day! 🐰💛💛 *bun hops out*

YES OMG THAT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITE NATSUME FICS!!!! you have great taste, feel free to send me recs whenever!

this fic is genius because the author purposefully only included the POV of characters who don't know about youkai, so you can read it either set in canon universe or set in an alternate universe in which natsume has psychosis. it's important to me that people could see natsume as psychotic and then treat him the way that the fujiwaras and kitamoto and nishimura treat him: with love, trust, support, and respect; without fear, entitlement, or resentment. he's been mistreated by so many people up to this point, but these people (who have no more information than anybody who came before them!!) treat him well. because whether or not the monsters he sees are real outside of his mind, and whether or not other people believe they're real outside of his mind, he has always deserved to feel loved and supported and safe.

it is truly healing to read a whole fic written from the perspective of people who think that way. i only wish natsume could read it too.

#HOW DID YOU KNOW #YOU ARE READING MY MIND #natsume's book of friends #asks #not anon #these are a few of my favorite things #psychosis #respect #natsuyuu fic

[deus-ex-mona]

way to betray the miya to your hori, nacchan </3

#ofc natsuyuu are aizo stans… mochita the real one #akarin nooooo you’re a year too early for minami’s idol debut— #but.. ​i like to think that they initially thought that yujiro was more popular bc his poketz sold more boxes than aizo’s (thanks tae) #(and also bc strawberry flavours >>> lemon flavours yk) #only to be horriblyyyyy wrong when they had their proper debut and the only one people liked was aizo lmao #hm. this could be a fic i think.. maybe………

[abysslll]

my sense of time is so fucked up man

#it's already been eight days since i updated my natsuyuu fic???????? #i thought it was like. five

[akabloom]

doodles i did after reading @joelleity ‘s fic :)

highly recommend reading it it’s really good !

#natsuyuu #natsume yuujinchou #my art #natsume's book of friends #natori shuuichi #matoba seiji #horrible exorcists #fic rec

[star-spacer]

A Promise Made, a Person Met

I meant to make this as part of natsumeweek but life just gets in the way so I have a backlog of one of two natsuyuu and mushishi fics I'll post them slowly lol

Natsume x reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Coming back with plans to fulfill your promises, you end up meeting someone new.

[Image ID: A long horizontal screenshot of green countryside. In the distance there are green mountains and trees.]

You had never seen a person shine as brightly as he did before.

Backlight against the backdrop of the school window the sun only served to enhance the glowing power he held within his core. It took you off-guard and you stared embarrassingly long at the willowy boy before giggling and his uncomfortable shifting snapped you out of it. You quickly introduced yourself and sought your assigned seat, somewhere in front of the boy and plopping down on it and hunching down. The awkward conundrum of being a teenager hit like a truck and you wanted to cover your face in embarrassment. Trust you to make a fool out of yourself on your first day at the new school.

“All right, everyone, settle down,” the teacher called. “You have more important things to worry about. Like this week’s upcoming test.”

There was a resounding groan but every student dutifully got out their work. Amidst the rustling of papers and folders, you overheard one of the boys behind you speak up. 

“Wow,” he declared. “I never thought I’d see the day when our very own Natsume Takashi would get an admirer!”

You sunk down deeper into your seat, but one thing out of all that caught your attention.

Natsume Takashi.

You wouldn’t forget that name. After all, he shone like the sun itself.

The first time you two met outside of school, it was when you were running errands for your parents. A bright, cheerful day, sunlight falling down onto your skin to warm it as you stepped out of the house. Your parents wanted you to run to the store, to grab ingredients for treats to repay the kind couple next door. They had brought loads of food for your family the first week you settled there, and now, your parents wanted to repay the favor.

Just as you were shoving on your shoes to avoid your brother’s requests to pick up extra snacks, the sounds of chattering approached. Looking up made you squint your eyes at the golden-warm glow, realizing it was Natsume and a black-haired boy walking past the half-wall of your house. The two of you locked eyes and simultaneously froze like deer in the headlights. For a moment, the world, gleamed vibrantly, as if this boy’s arrival had made the world become better. 

Natsume’s friend didn’t realize anything until he was a good few steps away, stopping and glancing back at Natsume and then following his line of sight to you. 

“Natsume?” He asked, hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

His words broke the spell that held the both of you and heat spread across your face. 

“Hi, Natsume!” You said almost too loudly. “I didn’t expect you here.”

“Me either,” the boy returned. He jerked an awkward thumb at the one next to him. “This is Tanuma Kaname, Tanuma, this is my new classmate.”

Tanuma had an aura around him, not the glowing power like Natsume, but enough to be noticeable. This time, you didn’t get caught up in staring as you introduced yourself, still standing stiff-legged in front of your door.

“Ah,” There was something that shifted in Tanuma’s eyes, but his expression didn’t betray anything. “Nice to meet you.”

The door opened behind you as your brother stuck his head out. “Oi, I know you’re trying to dodge me brat–”

He shut his mouth with a clack as he saw the other boys out on the street, all the more awkward as his scrutiny fell on them. Before he could say anything, you threw out a hand. “You know what I’ll grab your snacks! Just gimme the money and the list.”

“Nice.” Everything was shoved into your fist in the blink of an eye, but your brother didn’t hesitate in getting in the last word by scrubbing the top of your head with a palm, messing up the hair there. He didn’t let you spit back an insult as he slammed the door shut.

You then remembered that there were also two others standing there, turning to them with wooden limbs and an awkward smile as you started to shuffle down the path of your house to them. Once you were finally past the wall of your house, you pointed behind you. “I’m gonna go to the market.”

With those words, you turned around and sped walked away. When you glanced back, you saw them entering the house right next to yours.

The market–it turned out–was actually the other way, but you couldn’t bear facing them any longer. Though you did quite regret it later when you nearly tumbled over the bridge after being startled by a Yokai resembling a rolling mass of weeds.

***

Exhausting. 

Human interaction was exhausting. 

But climbing these steps in the middle of nearly summer sun? Also exhausting.

After the debacle outside of your house, your parents almost forced you to deliver the treats to the neighbors (which, by some very unfunny irony, ended up being Natsume’s guardians! Ha! What are the chances!) but your brother took mercy on you and bailed you out of the situation. That was why you were out here, climbing the seemingly unending steps to get to the shrine you remembered being there.

Long ago, when you were younger and your abilities were just flourishing, you made a promise to a spirit. The naive child that you were, with a heart too big for the world, promised to come back and free him from his shrine where he had been imprisoned. You didn’t get the chance to work on it, as you had to move away due to one issue or another. It allowed you to come in contact with so many other spirits and Yokais, a slew of experiences and promises exchanged that matured you into the person you were today.

Still, you never forgot the first promise you ever made.

His name was Madara.

He talked to you when you were a young, crying child, often seeking shelter in the clearing around his little shrine. His presence, although imprisoned, had warded off the spirits who followed you. He was arrogant and rude but still let you stay until the worst of the spirits were gone. Through many conversations and many visits, your young mind had latched onto his tales of glory, and when you had to leave this place, you had made a promise with him.

You told him that you would come back to free him, break the wards that had been too strong at that time. It had taken life much longer to return you here, but now there you were, various Yokai-given items in your bags in the hopes that they might break the seals. But as you reached the location where you remembered his imprisonment to be, you were met with a surprise. You froze as you laid your eyes on the sight in front of you, jaw dropping in dismay.

What once was a rope barrier strung up with zig-zagging shide papers was severed into two. More importantly, the small wooden shrine that was once there was nothing more than splinters of rotting wood on the ground and bits of porcelain.

“Ohhhhh my god,” you muttered, dropping the bag and sitting down on the grass. “It broke?? He got out??”

You muttered incoherently, flopping back on your back against the springy grass. All this workout for nothing, hauling a heavy bag up steep stairs. Though a big part of you wondered just who broke the seal. It was powerful enough to keep someone like Madara within the small area, so it must have been someone truly powerful to break it.

Your mind flashed back to Natsume, warm and glowing, but quickly brushed it away as you fully laid back to simply accept your fate.

Almost like a figment of your vivid imagination coming to life, you heard the pounding of feet on stone and the sound of Natsume’s voice.

“S-Sensei, wait up!”

You screamed as a doughy mass popped into your face, assaulting your vision with blurs of orange, white, and black fur. Reflexes brought your hands up to pull the thing away from your face.

“Finally! After years! You finally showed up!” A nasally voice came from the creature as you pulled it off. In your hands was what seemed to be an immensely round feline–wait.

You glanced at the cat.

You glanced at the remnants of the shrine, fragments of porcelain there. If you looked closely, you could see faded paint on it. An eye here, a whisker there.

You glanced at Natsume, connecting the dots and startling to your feet in a move that made the boy flinch and the cat in your arms meow in displeasure.

“You freed him?!?!”

“He did not!” Madara squawked angrily in your hold, wiggling back and forth. “The foolish boy tripped and ripped through my barriers. I took care of freeing myself thank you very much!”

Natsume rapidly switched his attention between you and Madara. “D-Do you know each other??? Nyanko-sensei is this why you were so insistent on coming here???”

Nyanko-sensei? Was that the name that he was called now?

You fought to reign in your hysterical laughter as the spirit bucked himself indignantly out of your grip. Kicking you in the chest with surprising force for such a blobby form.

“I can’t believe it! Wow! You actually freed him!”

Seeing the boy slowly backing away like he was about to bolt, the cat meowed, “Natsume, this is the brat I was waiting on! The one I said made a promise to free me.”

Seeing the boy’s confused expression, you reigned in your emotions and filled in the blanks. “When I was younger, I sought out this place as shelter. His aura and the seals were strong enough to ward off the Yokais that followed me. As thanks, I told him that I would free him when I got stronger. But I didn’t think you’d come to free him before me!”

The flighty look on his face was replaced by a tentative hoe, so achingly raw on his open face. “So it’s you… You can see them too, then…”

You nodded, taking a seat on the grass and indicating for him to do the same. Nyanko-sensei didn’t hesitate in jumping into your lap. Your stomach rumbled, and you dragged your backpack closer to rummage through it for the food you packed. “Among other things. My sight has always been abe to detect… more. I can see spirits and any distinct auras in humans that indicate their powers.”

He seemed fascinated by your words, barely noticing the sandwich that you decided to discreetly shove into his hands. “What do you mean?”

“You have an incredible amount of power, Natsume,” Nyanko replied for you. “This one was probably drooling over you the first time you two met.”

His crass words made you flail, dislodging the cat. “N-No it’s not like that! I’ve just–It’s just that you shine so brightly that I couldn’t help noticing you!”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, leaning back to prop up on his arms. He was still holding the sandwich. “Was that why you froze in front of the class?”

Being reminded of the incident made you groan, unwrapping your food to take a big bite out of it. “Don’t remind me about it… That was so embarrassing.”

He smiled at you, a soft, gentle thing. “No. It makes sense now…” His pondering turned into confusion when he finally registered the item in his hand. “Huh..?”

You looked away, pointedly taking another bite of yours. “I brought it along just in case. I always pack extra food for anybody who might want it. It’s… about time for lunch anyways.”

“Yeah! Yeah!” Madara yapped, beginning to root for the paper-wrapped food. “Natsume if you don’t want it, I’ll take it!”

The boy leaned away, sticking his sandwich up into the air out of the Yokai’s reach. “No way, Sensei! You ate almost half of my breakfast this morning I’m not giving you this.”

“Madara can have half you mine,” you said, splitting your sandwich into two. You paused, upon their silence, glancing between them. “Yokais aren’t allergic to anything right?”

“Uh-Uh, no… I didn’t expect you to call him Madara. I call him Nyanko-Sensei”

“Hmph, it’s because this one has marginally more respect for truly power beings,” Madara harrumphed as he waddled closer to you. He settled down on the grass in front of you, expectantly waiting for the food so you put it down in front of him, on top of a piece of paper.

The feline wasted no time tearing into it, so for the next few minutes, the warm air was filled with the sounds of you three eating and the noise of distant wildlife. 

“I’m… glad. To see another person who can see them,” Natsume murmured quietly, tossing a bit of his sandwich to Madara despite his rejection earlier. 

“Yeah…I’ve never met another person who had abilities like mine. I’m glad you’re the first.”

So in that little clearing, you allowed yourself to bask in the warmth of both the sun above you and its incarnate in the boy next to you. From the way you saw him interact with Madara, he has nothing but kind intentions. He talked and dealt with the spirit with an ease that you had. It allowed you to relax, eyes drooping in a haze of sleepiness. Though this was the first promise you didn’t fulfill for a Yokai, you didn’t mind. Based on Madara’s content purring, ti didn’t seem like he did either.

Natsume Takashi was so incredibly warm. Radiant and glowing and suffusing the air environment with an air that was so distinctly him. Even with the short time you’ve known him, you couldn’t ask for a better person to have freed Madara. You hoped he wouldn’t mind you becoming a part of his life.

You let out a content sigh.

It was a beautiful sunny day.

#masterlist #natsuyuu posting #natsume week #natsume yuujinchou x reader #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #gender neutral reader #fanfiction #natsume yuujinchou oneshot #natsume's book of friends oneshot #natsume's book of friends x reader #reader is an awkward gangly teen LMAO