Chapter Text
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Drip…
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Natsume hears a sound. An image fills his mind without his consent, and as always, Natsume is unable to look away. At some point, he thinks, the presence of something else filling his mind had become normal, like how he always brushes his teeth before he goes to change or calm his unruly hair, or like how Sensei always, without fail, comes home wobbling and slurring, all while holding a sake bottle, drunk before the day hits noon.
The image fills Natsume’s head. Or rather, a heavy emotion invades his body. The person…or yokai, huh…they were crying—crying with an emotion so overrun that it shook their entire being. The bright world that Natsume could perceive blurred, and all he could see was a flurry of red and white. Alas, as much as he wanted to know the cause of the weeping yokai, he couldn’t make out anything meaningful.
What are you sad about? Natsume’s thoughts bled through briefly before the world darkened inevitably.
As Natsume’s eyes shot open, liquid pooled out from his pupils. Sitting up and quickly wiping his face, he looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. He laid out on a soft couch, with a fluffy blanket covering him. It smelled like dango—the sweet red bean paste flavored ones that Sensei loved. It wasn’t a forest that surrounded him, nor were there any yokais or monsters. He didn’t see Nyanko-sensei, either. Instead, he was in a living room of sorts, complete with an air conditioning system and plants next to the couch. An unusual man with white hair and a black blindfold, wearing a matching black uniform and an eerie smile peered down at him.
“Ah—that’s great! You’re awake!” The man said, laughing a little to himself. Natsume felt uneasy. Who is this man? Exorcist? Likely. After all, exorcists tend to have…weird…hobbies. After all, the last exorcist to cover even one of their eyes was none other than Matoba-san.
“Don’t look so suspicious~” The man spoke again. If his eyes weren’t covered, Natsume was sure that it would be gleaming with mischief. His body stiffened. “Are you the one that let that thing out? Ah~ It’s causing a lottt of problems for me, you see.”
That thing? Natsume’s thoughts rushed. What happened before he passed out? His head throbbed in pain, but he couldn’t seem to remember. He became increasingly panicked.
“What are you talking about? Who are you? Are you an exorcist?” Natsume’s voice trembled. He felt the thumping of his heart in his ear.
Even if he didn’t know who this man was, instinctively, he could tell. This man was dangerous.
“Exorcist…?” The man tilted over with thumb and index under his chin, peering curiously like a child. “Well, I’m a jujutsu sorcerer, so it’s kind of similar, I guess?”
Jujutsu sorcerer? Natsume has never heard anything like that before.
“Gojo Satoru,” He continued. “I’m in charge of the first years at Jujutsu High.”
He smiled, but Natsume knew it didn’t reach his eyes. His entire existence, Natsume realized, shook Natsume down to his core with terror.
“So,” The man—Gojo—continued. “Who are you?”
“Natsume Takashi,” Natsume replied curtly, looking away. He felt that the man would only see through him if he were to lie.
“I see, Takashi-kun! So,” Gojo leaned close. Although his eyes were blindfolded, Natsume couldn’t help but stare at where his eyes would have been. Alarm bells went off in his head, telling him that if he said even one word out of line, he would die. “Did you let that thing out?”
Even if the alarm bells in his head told him to shut up, the rush of memories that suddenly entered his mind urged him to do otherwise. Before he was here, he was trying to return a name to another yokai in the forest right outside his town. However, right after giving back the yokai’s name—Mina—it said it was, Natsume was attacked by a different entity.
“Gojo-san, have you seen a book?” Natsume hurriedly asked. If the Book of Friends were to get in the hands of that yokai…
“Book?” Gojo pondered. As if he realized something grand, he pulled something out seemingly out of thin air. “This?”
And there it was—The Book of Friends, in all its glory, sitting in the hands of Gojo. Natsume breathed a sigh of relief. He reached for it, but Gojo smirked, raising his hand out of reach.
“It’s precious to me, so please give it back.” Natsume said firmly.
“A cursed object like this?”
“Cursed object?” Natsume repeated. Did this man find out that it’s a forbidden technique? Has he figured out its origins? Natsume hopes not—Exorcists must never know what the Book of Friends is or what it’s capable of. “What is that? That book is the only thing my grandmother left me after she passed.”
It wasn’t a lie. Natsume didn’t know what a cursed object was. Even if the Book of Friends was as dangerous as the yokai knows it to be, it was still the only physical tie that Natsume had to Reiko.
As if he was disappointed, Gojo tossed the book back to Natsume. Natsume caught it and quickly examined it for damage.
“Don’t worry, even if I wanted to, I can’t harm a cursed object at that level.” Gojo seemed to sense Natsume’s confusion. “Looks like that cat was telling the truth. You don’t know anything at all.”
“Cat? Nyanko-sensei…” Natsume panicked. “Where’s Nyanko-sensei? Give him back!”
“You really can’t hide anything on your face, huh?” Gojo laughed.
“Don’t worry~”
Gojo grinned again.
“I haven’t exorcised it yet.”
--
Gojo Satoru
A silly thought entered Natsume’s head, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the blindfolded man that was walking with him.
“What is it,” Gojo asked him. Natsume hadn’t realized that he had let out a light chuckle.
“Ah—no, it’s nothing. I just thought that one of my important friends is also named Satoru.”
Nishimura Satoru. What a thought to go through his mind. He was in an unfamiliar place, far, far away from the place that he had called home, and yet he was still stuck there, forever bounded by those who were important to them.
“Is that so?”
As they continued down the hallway, Natsume noticed the sun peeking through the windows, climbing up from the tree leaves and gently bathing the buildings in a soft embrace. Natsume wondered if Touko-san would be mad at him for staying out so late. He had already called them as soon as he got his phone back, but Natsume felt a wave of guilt wash over him anyways.
As they approached a different room, Natsume saw a group of kids continuing opposite the same hallway. They were laughing and poking at each other.
“I’m NEE-VER seeing a movie with you again! Absolutely! Never!” The girl with a short brown bob said, whipping her head around. “That was worse than disgusting! How was that worse than the curse we exorcised last week that turned inside out?”
The black-haired boy nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
“But the plot!” The pink haired boy (pink hair?) protested. “The doctor is a prime example of dehumanization and the lengths that—”
“Those are the first years that I’m in charge of.” Gojo explained. “A lively bunch, aren’t they?”
Natsume could only nod before Gojo trotted over.
“Yo, how are my precious students?” Gojo exclaimed, greeting the students. Natsume followed in suit, not really understanding what else to do.
“Ah! Gojo-sensei, listen!” The pink haired boy turned. “Have you watched—”
“No one wants to watch that damn movie!” The brown-haired girl continued to exclaim, interrupting the two. “It’s creepy.”
Natsume looked at them, curiously, fondly. Even if they had just met, Natsume could tell that they all got along well. A smile creeps up his face despite the situation he’s in.
“So,” The black-haired boy said, making Natsume jump. He had forgotten that he was there. “Who is this?”
“Ah, right, right. This is Natsume Takashi. He’ll be temporarily joining you as one of the first-year students.” Gojo said easily.
“Huh?” The trio, plus Natsume, exclaimed.
“You never said that to me earlier,” Natsume quickly backed away. “I don’t even know where I am. I need to go home.”
“Ah, I didn’t tell you?” Gojo was laughing. Natsume narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t tell if Gojo was messing with him or not. In any case, he needed to look for Nyanko-sensei.
“I’m going home.” Natsume insisted. “Where’s Nyanko-sensei?”
“I’m right here, you idiot.” Natsume hadn’t noticed the sun’s rays being blocked off in the moment.
Natsume’s head whipped toward the window next to them, and there he was. Natsume had expected the great beast to be in its cat form, but alas, he was wrong. The cat form that he had expected was gone, and in its place, was the giant, fluffy, wolf-like being that he had come to know. The window shattered in the next second, the beast’s head breaking through and closing in on Natsume. Just as he was about to say something, the beast beat him to it.
“We’re leaving.” Nyanko-sensei’s greatness radiated from him. “This place is no place for a great being like me. Getting caught up in every problem in existence. Tch.”
Natsume reached for Nyanko’s fur, but he was stopped. Gojo stood between them (when did he get there?) with his hands in his pockets. His three students were now in defense mode, hands up for any potential attack, but Natsume could practically see the terror in their eyes.
So they can see him.
“Sorcerer.” There’s that phrase again. “I’ll eat you.”
“Sensei,” Natsume said, scolding before anyone had the chance to respond. “You can’t.”
Nyanko’s eyes stopped on the weakling that got him caught up in this mess. He couldn’t believe that he had let a child like him have dared to command him. Begrudgingly, Nyanko turned back into a cat with a huff, jumping onto Natsume’s head.
“Tch. Getting into this mess,” He grumbled, pulling at Natsume’s hair. “If I don’t get to eat Touko’s dinner tonight, I’ll never help you again!”
“You escaped,” Gojo said, impressed, but still relaxed.
“Of course I did.” Nyanko growled back. “Even this kid can make a seal better than that.”
“What…What are you?” The black-haired boy said, still in defense mode.
“I’m—” Natsume started apologetically.
“You can call me Nyanko-sensei. Bow down to me this instant.” Nyanko glowered at the rest of the group, including Gojo, all the while licking his paws.
“Don’t mind him,” Natsume dragged Nyanko-sensei from his head. “We just want to go home.”
“Unfortunately, you can’t go home right now. You see,” Gojo explained, kicking at the glass on the floor. “You kind of appeared out of that.”
Gojo pointed at a floating black sphere in the middle of the courtyard outside from where Nyanko had appeared. It was smooth, unnatural, as if it was a dot of paint that an artist had accidentally splashed onto their canvas.
“What?” Both Nyanko and Natsume responded, staring.