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Takashi opens his eyes and looks up at a blank ceiling. It’s morning.
He did not wake during the night. There were no uninvited guests. No banging on the window, no tapping on the walls, not even an otherworldly breath in his ear: ‘Natsume-dono.’
He’s not sure whether he should be relieved or afraid.
He gets up. His room is perfectly empty – to his eyes. So much space around his futon. Like exaggerated margins on a piece of paper. Are there things in those margins he can’t see?
He steps forward on the tatami mat, but his foot does not touch an errant tail. He holds out a hand, expecting to feel fur, or scales, or fabric, but nothing greets his outstretched fingers. He wonders if he’s finally alone.
There’s no way to know for certain. He could run circuits of this room and encounter nothing. Youkai are like that.
He walks around the futon catching corners, folding in, stacking neatly. He expects to run into soft fur at any moment, but never does. Not even a whisker.
He picks up the futon in the closet. Then he gets dressed.
The school uniform comes on snuggly. It’s getting a little short in the sleeves. Maybe he should tell someone?
Touko calls him from below, and he starts. Her voice is the first he’s heard this morning.
He opens the shoji door and catches the smell of breakfast.
Is Sensei smelling breakfast, too?
Down the stairs, he’s listening for footsteps or paw pads. No steps beside his own echo in his strained ears. Is that okay? Or did he… want to hear something?
Touko greets him with a smile. He can see her perfectly, and he smiles too.
There’s a bowl on the floor for Sensei. It remains full the whole time he’s having breakfast.
Touko laughs in that soft way of hers and says that Nyanko-chan is probably out prowling around. She’ll put it in the fridge and save it for him.
Takashi agrees.
-
The walk to school is unbearably quiet.
He strains his ears for any sound besides the wind. The countryside stretches out with absolute stillness and the sun illuminates so much empty expanse. Not a soul stirs in those grasses, not a shape dangles from the trees. All is empty.
His instinct tells him that something lurks close by. He doesn’t dare run. But even so, it is not a hostile presence. He slows down.
Just before he reaches the bridge connecting to the main roadway, he thinks he hears voices behind him. He turns and looks back over the dusty road. Not a mote stirs. The only whisper is the wind.
He keeps walking.
-
Takashi is relieved when the sounds of humans enter his senses. It means he’s out of the woods, so to speak. Youkai don’t usually mingle in places filled with humans. Not unless he draws them.
He keeps the Yuujinchou close at hand in his schoolbag.
He’s relieved to see Taki. She’s relieved to see him, too. His shoulders relax as they talk on their way to class. She’s glowing with happiness. Freedom really suits her. He wishes he could enjoy it that much too.
“Do you have your sight back?” She asks in a whisper.
He shakes his head, subtle, because they’re at his classroom now and his friends – human friends – are inside.
She touches him on the shoulder and gives him a warm smile. She understands. That’s a funny feeling – being understood. It sits warmly in his chest the whole time during class.
-
The world seems so empty with only humans around.
And then he’s home.
-
That night, after a warm, delicious supper and an even warmer bath, he takes down his futon and lays it out on the tatami. He snuggles under the coverlet and misses the weight of a very fat cat. He hasn’t seen Sensei all day. He’s worried, but he won’t say so to thin air.
He closes his eyes. The wind howls outside.
-
It’s 3am when he wakes.
It’s his window. It’s rattling. It must be the wind.
It stops rattling. Silence falls but sleep does not.
Bang. The sound jolts him wide awake.
Bang. Bang.
He barely dares to breathe. What is it this time? A spirit from the country wanting their name? A youkai prowling for a meal?
He shrinks down, but he knows from experience that the coverlet won’t save him. Maybe he should go check on Touko and– No, that might lead it to them.
Bang.
And suddenly, it stops as instantly as it began.
He holds his breath in the darkness and listens. His heart is hammering still.
A warm breath flutters across his hair.
“Don’t worry.” A familiar, deep voice fills the space around him, the small room barely able to contain it. “It was a small fry. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Takashi clenches the blankets, still surprised, his heart pounding in exhilaration, in relief, in joy.
He can feel Sensei now – all around him.
How long has it been like that, and he just didn’t know where to look?
“Sensei.” He just wants to say his name. The name is enveloped in the darkness, but not alone.
“Natsume.” The voice comes from just above him.
Takashi reaches up both hands, and his fingers brush against the stiff whiskers of a chin. He reaches a little higher, and he can feel the short, soft fur around Sensei’s nose.
Takashi smiles in the darkness.
“Natsume.” Sensei warns. “That tickles.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He reluctantly removes his hands. Instead, he stretches his arms to either side to feel paws, fine-boned toes, exposed claws. And it feels wonderfully familiar.
“Don’t do that either.” A paw retracts from his touch. “Just sleep.”
“Okay.”
“I’m watching the house.”
“I know.” And he does.