Natsume Yuujinchou Fan Fiction ❯ His Wedding Night ❯ Chapter 6
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: The Fox Witch 
Anime/Manga: Natsume Yuujinchou Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Occult / Drama / Psychological | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.03.2011 | Updated On: 10.21.2011 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 2.8K | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Natsume Yuujinchou Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Occult / Drama / Psychological | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.03.2011 | Updated On: 10.21.2011 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 2.8K | Status: Work In Progress
A/N: Small amount of graphic M/M ahead.
~Part 6~
The bedroom was spacious and furnished in a Western style. Landscape paintings adorned the walls, softly lit by the dimmed lights. There was a table with two chairs in the center, and a door led to a personal bathroom on the far wall. On the opposite end, a mahogany writing desk was placed near the large bed pushed in one corner. The comforter was red and gold, matching the drapes. It was luxurious, if he ignored the bars on the windows.
Natsume had been taken to what he assumed was the Matoba main house. He allowed himself to be led into the room with no resistance. His bag was confiscated almost immediately, Matoba promising sweetly that it would be returned soon. Natsume felt the taller man move behind him, and stiffened. Warm breath brushed across the skin on the back of his neck. He subconsciously moved his hand over his stomach, where the Book of Friends was hidden. Suddenly he wasn't sure if it would be safe, even under his clothes.
"Rest well, Natsume-kun. We'll discuss our arrangements in the morning," Matoba's voice purred. The door whispered shut as he left him, a lock clicking shortly after.
Natsume fell to his knees. He stayed that way for several minutes, breathing unsteadily. Don't cry. It won't help anything, he scolded himself. He wiped the moisture from his eyes and forced himself to his feet. He approached the window and touched the glass. His face reflected against the cool surface, striped by the steel bars outside. There was nothing but dark forest stretching out from the mansion.
Natsume removed the Book of Friends from its hiding place. If I could summon Misuzu… He thought. He didn't know the youkai very well, but he was large and seemed powerful. Perhaps even comparable to Madara. At the thought of the youkai's name and face, the book flipped open on its own accord to the correct page. Natsume stared at the name blankly. Oh. I need to do something else…A circle and a ritual? Natsume thought back to the time he summoned Misuzu before with Madara's instruction. Try as he might, however, he simply couldn't recall the complicated circle he was supposed to draw. He shut the book in frustration. Even with Book of Friends, he was powerless without his teacher.
A brightly colored robe lay folded on the bed. It was done in a masculine style, but the floral pattern reminded Natsume too much of a certain dress and he pushed it aside in disgust. He slipped the Book of Friends under the mattress and crawled into the covers, still in his clothes.
The silky sheets and down pillow conformed around Natsume's body. The clean, unfamiliar smell gave him the sense of sleeping in a hotel room. He recalled suddenly the hot-spring inn he stayed at with Natori, and a different inn with Nishimura and Kitamoto.
There were countless times that Natsume slept by himself. But that night, in a strange place without even his Nyanko-sensei at his side, Natsume had never felt so alone.
~*~
Is it here?
He thought that every time he passed that particular shrine on his way to school. Is it here? It always was, though. That youkai. It knelt at the shrine every hour of every day, its palms cast out pleadingly. "I'm so hungry…" It would cry pitifully to each passerby. They ignored it, of course, as did he.
As he should. As his father and mother instructed him to. There was nothing to be gained from such an ayakashi. It was weak, dangerous, useless, all of these things at once. So he listened to it cry the same thing every morning and afternoon.
It cried and cried. Keening from the bottom of its heart without rest until the flowering trees became red and golden in autumn. Snow kissed the ground when he first looked at it. Flowers returned to the branches when he first offered it bread.
~*~
Natsume caught a whiff of sakura when he awoke. His body creaked as he rolled over, unused to the plush bedding. He wasn't surprised at all to see Matoba sitting at the desk next to him, reading a book. It wasn't until he sat up that the dark-haired man's attention shifted to him.
Matoba's eye looked him over. "There was no need to sleep in your clothes," he said, bemused. "You should make yourself comfortable."
"It's fine. I'm not staying long," Natsume retorted mildly.
"You're angry."
"Are you surprised? I've told you already that I'm not joining your clan."
"Indeed, I must apologize for my extreme actions," Matoba sat the book down and stood. Natsume's hackles rose, but the man walked to the table instead of the bed. "But I believe the circumstances were extreme enough to warrant them. You're much too fascinating to allow the youkai to steal away. Since you refuse to give me the time of day, I've brought you here only to offer you another perspective. Free of your 'sensei's', frankly, poisonous influence." He motioned to the seat across from him.
Natsume exhaled, unconvinced. He forced himself out of the bed and to the opposite chair. He noticed his bag sitting on the table.
Matoba continued, "Before I do that, I would like to learn a bit more about you and your relationship with ayakashi. It could give me some insight on how to help you."
I don't need help. There's nothing wrong with me, Natsume repeated the thought in his head, but held his tongue. There's not. Matoba removed Natsume's belongings from his bag slowly. Matoba's hand movements were oddly graceful, laying out his spare clothes and schoolwork. They brushed away strands of black hair from over his eye-patch, tricking Natsume into looking up to meet his eye. Before, Natsume saw Matoba's mannerisms as creepy. But now everything the man did seemed vaguely sexual.
After Natsume's uninteresting possessions, Matoba pulled out a slip of paper from one of the bag's pockets. Natsume stared at it quizzically, before realizing it was a paper doll like the ones Natori used.
"It's been deactivated, of course," said Matoba. "But it's not yours, is it? I wonder how it got there."
Natsume wondered the same thing, and then wondered if all exorcists were so nosy.
Next, he removed the silver ring. "This one is interesting," Matoba commented. "It has an ominous aura, don't you think?" Natsume stayed silent, and the raven-haired man set it aside with the doll.
"And then there's this little item…" Matoba pulled out the Book of Friends.
Natsume froze. The blood drained from his face and he couldn't hide his discomfort from the older man. How did he find it? Natsume cursed over and over.
Matoba leafed through the pages. The dark ink splashed across each page represented an ayakashi. Natsume flinched each time Matoba traced one of the characters with a slender finger. "The Book of Friends. An interesting title. On first look, it's nothing but meaningless scribbles. Knowing you, however, it must be ayakashi writing." He watched Natsume's expression carefully before continuing. "Perhaps it’s a novel, or a journal. But if I had to venture a guess…I would say these are names."
He knows. "It's just some useless book," said Natsume, keeping his voice level. "I get a lot of weird gifts from doing favors for ayakashi. It's the same as that ring. I don't know what it says, either."
"Is that so? That's disappointing," Matoba replied in a bored tone. "You won't mind if I take it, then? Though I don't have much use for a book that can't be read. It could be full of dangerous curses, anyway. It might be better to destroy it." He pinched one of the pages between two fingers and made a tiny tear near the corner.
"Stop!" Natsume jumped to his feet and reached for the book.
Quick as a viper, Matoba snatched the boy's wrist and yanked him forward. Natsume barely caught himself and stood on his tip-toes to avoid falling over the table. "Please do not lie to me, Natsume-kun," Matoba rumbled near his ear. "You are far too easy to predict." He raised a hand to Natsume's jawline and brushed across the fading mark on his neck.
Natsume pulled away. "Don't touch me!" He snapped. With nowhere to run to, he retreated to his chair, pressing against the back to put as much distance between them as possible.
Matoba raised an eyebrow, not quite accomplishing the intended expression due to only one of them being visible. "Come now, was it so bad?" He chided, "Are you angry because I took something precious from you?"
"You didn't," Natsume countered irritably.
"Oh?" Matoba remarked in interest, "I didn't mean to insult you, but I assumed you were a virgin."
"It was the first time it was…like that," Natsume didn't want to say "good", "But when I was being passed around by my relatives…. " He didn't want to talk about this. "Are you going to do it again?" He asked bluntly.
Matoba Seiji's expression was unreadable. He stood and slowly walked behind Natsume. Natsume steeled himself. As nervous as he was, as long as Matoba's attention was on him, the Book of Friends would be out of harm's way. Matoba's hands came into view over Natsume's shoulders and wrapped his arms across the boy's chest. Ink-black hair tickled over Natsume's cheek. He was drawn into what was suspiciously similar to a hug. "I'm not the villain you make me out to be," Matoba murmured. "I truly believe you're something special, Natsume-kun. You have a power that can help many people. I want you to join me so we can make that happen."
It was frightening. How his voice could turn on a dime so smoothly. From cutting into him like an icy knife, to layering him in honey warmth. He didn't fight when Matoba kissed his neck.
"You have a place here. You needn't be alone anymore…" Matoba continued. Natsume's heart ached. He wanted so badly to believe that. The hands embracing him flicked open the buttons to his wrinkled shirt and dipped inside. The fingers caressed his smooth chest, tracing around his pectoral to hardness. Warmth spread across his body almost immediately. Matoba stepped around the chair to lean in front on him, dipping down to take his lips.
Natsume thought he might hate Matoba, but he liked the feeling of the man's hands on his body. He liked how heat traveled downward when Matoba's tongue explored his mouth. And he hated that he didn't want it to stop. What's wrong with me? He asked himself. Matoba released Natsume's lips to allow him air before undoing the boy's pants and taking hold of his manhood. Natsume moved against the hand as the man stroked him to hardness. Matoba kissed along his abdomen, down to the point of his hip. I shouldn't, I need to stop him, but it feels so… He inhaled sharply when his cock was suddenly enveloped by damp heat.
Matoba took him into his mouth. Pure ecstasy shot through Natsume when the man's tongue passed over the entire length, finishing with a swirl over the sensitive tip. He bit his sleeve to stifle the needy moan that escaped him when the action was repeated over and over. His breath came in a series of ahhs, his hips twitching in time with the man's licking and sucking. He was dizzy with sensation and a whispered "Please," somehow broke through his pants. Matoba held his hips to draw him closer, nearly swallowing him whole.
Natsume gave a small whine and arched his back. His orgasm was almost painful; pleasure wracked his small form with only Matoba's hands on his waist keeping him steady.
Matoba took all of his release, giving no indication of discomfort. He pulled away, his breath warm against Natsume's hyper-sensitive member. The dark-haired man's eye trailed up and down the boy's flushed skin. "Beautiful," he muttered into Natsume's stomach, tasting the smooth expanse with a gentle lap. "I could drink in every ounce of you."
Natsume was too thoroughly rolled to be embarrassed by the words. He startled as if waking when Matoba stood and began to re-button his shirt. "I really am impatient," Matoba confessed. "To do this first thing in the morning. You haven't even eaten yet."
Natsume batted his hand away and fixed his clothes himself, saying nothing. Now that his mind was clear, he was very relieved that Matoba chose to stop at that. I can't think clearly like this. I need to get out of here soon, he thought.
"There are some matters of business I must attend to today, but I will return soon for a proper discussion. Please relax here for now. I will send for a servant to bring you anything you require."
"You don't need to…"
"My resources are yours to enjoy, Natsume-kun," Matoba insisted. "Please consider yourself family rather than a guest."
That's not happening, Natsume shot back in his mind, but he was tired of arguing. When Matoba left, taking the Book of Friends with him, Natsume headed to the bathroom. He showered quickly, somewhat annoyed by the collection of scented soap and shampoo he had to choose from. Then very annoyed when he stepped out and discovered his clothes were gone and replaced with the red kimono from the night before. He considered going naked in protest, realized that it would counter-productive, and reluctantly slipped on the clothes.
There was a gentle rap on the door to the room. "Come in," Natsume called.
The door opened, and a female ayakashi entered the room with a sliver tray of food. She was decked in pale blue robes, with a plain, white mask for a face similar to those of Matoba's shiki. She set the tray down on the table. The spread was pretty if not basic, with a selection of egg, fish, pickled vegetables, and rice arranged neatly in matching china. Natsume's stomach rumbled when he remembered he skipped dinner the previous night. He sat at the table and took a few tentative bites.
The youkai stood by the table as Natsume ate, making him pause uncomfortably. "Um. Thank you," he tried.
"My pleasure, Natsume-sama," Natsume was surprised when she answered in a wispy voice. He had assumed she was as voiceless as the shiki.
"What's your name?" He asked curiously.
"Miyuki."
"Miyuki…can I ask…why do you serve the Matoba clan?"
"I cannot answer."
"Are you happy here?"
"I cannot answer."
"Why can't you talk to me? I won't tell anyone."
"I have been specifically forbidden to offer such a service."
Of course, Natsume frowned. Matoba did not want him to befriend the youkai. He wanted him to see her as a servant. "I don't need anything," he said. "Please leave me alone."
"As you wish, Natsume-sama," the youkai bowed low to the ground before fading from the room.
Natsume felt a little guilty. It wasn't her fault what the exorcists ordered her to do. He finished his meal in silence. About an hour after that, Natsume really wished he included the boring manga in his bag. On the table, Natsume noticed that while Matoba took the Book of Friends, he left everything else. He fiddled with the paper doll, but it stayed dead in his palm. It must be Natori's, but what was it doing in my bag? He wondered suspiciously. He finished his homework next, then checked the book that Matoba left on the desk. It was old and written in small print with old fashioned Kanji. Natsume gave up on it quickly and took to exploring the rest of the room.
There were more robes in the dresser, and more old books in the desk. That was the extent of it. Matoba clearly expected him to utilize the servant to bring him entertainment, but he couldn't bring himself to call on her. When she returned with lunch, however, Natsume gave in and asked for something to do. She brought him some more books, comics, and a radio. It wasn't perfect, but it at least kept him from pulling out his hair in boredom.
It was midafternoon when Natsume felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He ran to the window. A moment later, he could see a white streak darting through the sky. "Nyanko-sensei," Natsume flung open the window and shouted more forcefully through the bars, "Nyanko-sensei!"
The white form changed direction and charged for the window. Natsume jumped back just as Madara struck the wall, shaking the room. The youkai seized the steel bars in his jaws. His neck tensed in effort, but he eventually tore them free from the foundation with a loud crack. He tossed it aside and forced his way in through the window.
"Nyanko-sensei!" Natsume could only repeat the youkai's name in relief, and threw his arms around the great, white beast.
The youkai shook him off dismissively. "Sorry, Natsume. I'm not holding back this time," Madara growled.
"You can't! Sen-" Natsume cut-off as Madara shoved past him. He fell backwards to the floor as the powerful ayakashi forced his way through the locked door and into the hall. "Sensei!" He scrambled to his feet and gave chase. A startled scream came from just ahead, and when Natsume turned the corner, Madara held a man in his mouth by the arm. The man cried out in pain when Madara began to shake him. "No!" Natsume reached for him, but stopped when he saw something standing in the doorway.
Matoba stepped into the room, wielding his longbow. The moment Madara set eyes on the dark-haired man, he dropped the other human and lunged. Matoba whispered something under his breath, and white ropes seized Madara around his neck and middle. They jerked him back like chains.
"I see the trap on the window was well laid," Matoba quipped, and released an arrow directly into Madara's chest.
The youkai howled in pain. His body writhed, but he tore at the bindings with his teeth valiantly, somehow unable to bite through the strange consistency. Another arrow hit his ribs, and this time Madara stopped in his tracks.
"STOP!" Natsume screamed, throwing himself between the two. Madara thrashed behind him, pupils constricted to livid slits, gone mad with fury. Hot stripes of crimson flowed down his snowy fur from the wounds on his chest. Natsume thought he would be sick.
"Natsume-kun, I can't allow a youkai to harm humans. You understand that, don't you?" Matoba's voice was strangely stiff. His own posture was rigid while his blank expression was carefully controlled.
Natsume felt the situation slipping from his grasp. "I won't forgive you if you kill him!" He threatened. The man drew another arrow. "Please, stop!" This time he begged, "I'll do anything, so please!" He ran forward into Matoba's chest, interrupting the man's stance. He grasped his clothes in tightly clenched fists and buried his tear-soaked face into them. "I'll do anything…don't kill Nyanko-sensei…" He dropped to his knees.
"Enough, Natsume! I'm not going to be killed by this child," Madara roared and strained against the bindings. They stretched thin, beginning to tear.
"Matoba-sama!" Cried one of the gathered men.
Matoba hesitated for a fraction of a second longer before lowering his bow and taking on a hand gesture. "Prepare a seal. Quickly," he ordered.
Hearing this, Madara redoubled his efforts, but the binding was tenacious and roped over his legs. The exorcists rushed to obey Matoba, forming a circle around the furious youkai and taking on the same hand gesture. Someone carried in a large, clay jar and set it down as close he dared. They chanted. Natsume's hair stood on end when strange energy rolled off Matoba and through him to reach Madara. The youkai convulsed and howled, his body melting to white mist and flying to the jar. One of the exorcists plugged it and set a paper seal over the lid, silencing it.
Natsume jumped to go to the jar, but Matoba grabbed his arm. "Reinforce the seal and take it to storage," the taller man directed breathlessly. "That one might be troublesome if it were at full strength."
"What are you going to do with him?" Natsume demanded.
"That remains to be seen, Natsume-kun," Matoba replied shortly. "You did beg so generously for its life."
~TBC~
Converting /tmp/phpzarcMr to /dev/stdout
~Part 6~
The bedroom was spacious and furnished in a Western style. Landscape paintings adorned the walls, softly lit by the dimmed lights. There was a table with two chairs in the center, and a door led to a personal bathroom on the far wall. On the opposite end, a mahogany writing desk was placed near the large bed pushed in one corner. The comforter was red and gold, matching the drapes. It was luxurious, if he ignored the bars on the windows.
Natsume had been taken to what he assumed was the Matoba main house. He allowed himself to be led into the room with no resistance. His bag was confiscated almost immediately, Matoba promising sweetly that it would be returned soon. Natsume felt the taller man move behind him, and stiffened. Warm breath brushed across the skin on the back of his neck. He subconsciously moved his hand over his stomach, where the Book of Friends was hidden. Suddenly he wasn't sure if it would be safe, even under his clothes.
"Rest well, Natsume-kun. We'll discuss our arrangements in the morning," Matoba's voice purred. The door whispered shut as he left him, a lock clicking shortly after.
Natsume fell to his knees. He stayed that way for several minutes, breathing unsteadily. Don't cry. It won't help anything, he scolded himself. He wiped the moisture from his eyes and forced himself to his feet. He approached the window and touched the glass. His face reflected against the cool surface, striped by the steel bars outside. There was nothing but dark forest stretching out from the mansion.
Natsume removed the Book of Friends from its hiding place. If I could summon Misuzu… He thought. He didn't know the youkai very well, but he was large and seemed powerful. Perhaps even comparable to Madara. At the thought of the youkai's name and face, the book flipped open on its own accord to the correct page. Natsume stared at the name blankly. Oh. I need to do something else…A circle and a ritual? Natsume thought back to the time he summoned Misuzu before with Madara's instruction. Try as he might, however, he simply couldn't recall the complicated circle he was supposed to draw. He shut the book in frustration. Even with Book of Friends, he was powerless without his teacher.
A brightly colored robe lay folded on the bed. It was done in a masculine style, but the floral pattern reminded Natsume too much of a certain dress and he pushed it aside in disgust. He slipped the Book of Friends under the mattress and crawled into the covers, still in his clothes.
The silky sheets and down pillow conformed around Natsume's body. The clean, unfamiliar smell gave him the sense of sleeping in a hotel room. He recalled suddenly the hot-spring inn he stayed at with Natori, and a different inn with Nishimura and Kitamoto.
There were countless times that Natsume slept by himself. But that night, in a strange place without even his Nyanko-sensei at his side, Natsume had never felt so alone.
~*~
Is it here?
He thought that every time he passed that particular shrine on his way to school. Is it here? It always was, though. That youkai. It knelt at the shrine every hour of every day, its palms cast out pleadingly. "I'm so hungry…" It would cry pitifully to each passerby. They ignored it, of course, as did he.
As he should. As his father and mother instructed him to. There was nothing to be gained from such an ayakashi. It was weak, dangerous, useless, all of these things at once. So he listened to it cry the same thing every morning and afternoon.
It cried and cried. Keening from the bottom of its heart without rest until the flowering trees became red and golden in autumn. Snow kissed the ground when he first looked at it. Flowers returned to the branches when he first offered it bread.
~*~
Natsume caught a whiff of sakura when he awoke. His body creaked as he rolled over, unused to the plush bedding. He wasn't surprised at all to see Matoba sitting at the desk next to him, reading a book. It wasn't until he sat up that the dark-haired man's attention shifted to him.
Matoba's eye looked him over. "There was no need to sleep in your clothes," he said, bemused. "You should make yourself comfortable."
"It's fine. I'm not staying long," Natsume retorted mildly.
"You're angry."
"Are you surprised? I've told you already that I'm not joining your clan."
"Indeed, I must apologize for my extreme actions," Matoba sat the book down and stood. Natsume's hackles rose, but the man walked to the table instead of the bed. "But I believe the circumstances were extreme enough to warrant them. You're much too fascinating to allow the youkai to steal away. Since you refuse to give me the time of day, I've brought you here only to offer you another perspective. Free of your 'sensei's', frankly, poisonous influence." He motioned to the seat across from him.
Natsume exhaled, unconvinced. He forced himself out of the bed and to the opposite chair. He noticed his bag sitting on the table.
Matoba continued, "Before I do that, I would like to learn a bit more about you and your relationship with ayakashi. It could give me some insight on how to help you."
I don't need help. There's nothing wrong with me, Natsume repeated the thought in his head, but held his tongue. There's not. Matoba removed Natsume's belongings from his bag slowly. Matoba's hand movements were oddly graceful, laying out his spare clothes and schoolwork. They brushed away strands of black hair from over his eye-patch, tricking Natsume into looking up to meet his eye. Before, Natsume saw Matoba's mannerisms as creepy. But now everything the man did seemed vaguely sexual.
After Natsume's uninteresting possessions, Matoba pulled out a slip of paper from one of the bag's pockets. Natsume stared at it quizzically, before realizing it was a paper doll like the ones Natori used.
"It's been deactivated, of course," said Matoba. "But it's not yours, is it? I wonder how it got there."
Natsume wondered the same thing, and then wondered if all exorcists were so nosy.
Next, he removed the silver ring. "This one is interesting," Matoba commented. "It has an ominous aura, don't you think?" Natsume stayed silent, and the raven-haired man set it aside with the doll.
"And then there's this little item…" Matoba pulled out the Book of Friends.
Natsume froze. The blood drained from his face and he couldn't hide his discomfort from the older man. How did he find it? Natsume cursed over and over.
Matoba leafed through the pages. The dark ink splashed across each page represented an ayakashi. Natsume flinched each time Matoba traced one of the characters with a slender finger. "The Book of Friends. An interesting title. On first look, it's nothing but meaningless scribbles. Knowing you, however, it must be ayakashi writing." He watched Natsume's expression carefully before continuing. "Perhaps it’s a novel, or a journal. But if I had to venture a guess…I would say these are names."
He knows. "It's just some useless book," said Natsume, keeping his voice level. "I get a lot of weird gifts from doing favors for ayakashi. It's the same as that ring. I don't know what it says, either."
"Is that so? That's disappointing," Matoba replied in a bored tone. "You won't mind if I take it, then? Though I don't have much use for a book that can't be read. It could be full of dangerous curses, anyway. It might be better to destroy it." He pinched one of the pages between two fingers and made a tiny tear near the corner.
"Stop!" Natsume jumped to his feet and reached for the book.
Quick as a viper, Matoba snatched the boy's wrist and yanked him forward. Natsume barely caught himself and stood on his tip-toes to avoid falling over the table. "Please do not lie to me, Natsume-kun," Matoba rumbled near his ear. "You are far too easy to predict." He raised a hand to Natsume's jawline and brushed across the fading mark on his neck.
Natsume pulled away. "Don't touch me!" He snapped. With nowhere to run to, he retreated to his chair, pressing against the back to put as much distance between them as possible.
Matoba raised an eyebrow, not quite accomplishing the intended expression due to only one of them being visible. "Come now, was it so bad?" He chided, "Are you angry because I took something precious from you?"
"You didn't," Natsume countered irritably.
"Oh?" Matoba remarked in interest, "I didn't mean to insult you, but I assumed you were a virgin."
"It was the first time it was…like that," Natsume didn't want to say "good", "But when I was being passed around by my relatives…. " He didn't want to talk about this. "Are you going to do it again?" He asked bluntly.
Matoba Seiji's expression was unreadable. He stood and slowly walked behind Natsume. Natsume steeled himself. As nervous as he was, as long as Matoba's attention was on him, the Book of Friends would be out of harm's way. Matoba's hands came into view over Natsume's shoulders and wrapped his arms across the boy's chest. Ink-black hair tickled over Natsume's cheek. He was drawn into what was suspiciously similar to a hug. "I'm not the villain you make me out to be," Matoba murmured. "I truly believe you're something special, Natsume-kun. You have a power that can help many people. I want you to join me so we can make that happen."
It was frightening. How his voice could turn on a dime so smoothly. From cutting into him like an icy knife, to layering him in honey warmth. He didn't fight when Matoba kissed his neck.
"You have a place here. You needn't be alone anymore…" Matoba continued. Natsume's heart ached. He wanted so badly to believe that. The hands embracing him flicked open the buttons to his wrinkled shirt and dipped inside. The fingers caressed his smooth chest, tracing around his pectoral to hardness. Warmth spread across his body almost immediately. Matoba stepped around the chair to lean in front on him, dipping down to take his lips.
Natsume thought he might hate Matoba, but he liked the feeling of the man's hands on his body. He liked how heat traveled downward when Matoba's tongue explored his mouth. And he hated that he didn't want it to stop. What's wrong with me? He asked himself. Matoba released Natsume's lips to allow him air before undoing the boy's pants and taking hold of his manhood. Natsume moved against the hand as the man stroked him to hardness. Matoba kissed along his abdomen, down to the point of his hip. I shouldn't, I need to stop him, but it feels so… He inhaled sharply when his cock was suddenly enveloped by damp heat.
Matoba took him into his mouth. Pure ecstasy shot through Natsume when the man's tongue passed over the entire length, finishing with a swirl over the sensitive tip. He bit his sleeve to stifle the needy moan that escaped him when the action was repeated over and over. His breath came in a series of ahhs, his hips twitching in time with the man's licking and sucking. He was dizzy with sensation and a whispered "Please," somehow broke through his pants. Matoba held his hips to draw him closer, nearly swallowing him whole.
Natsume gave a small whine and arched his back. His orgasm was almost painful; pleasure wracked his small form with only Matoba's hands on his waist keeping him steady.
Matoba took all of his release, giving no indication of discomfort. He pulled away, his breath warm against Natsume's hyper-sensitive member. The dark-haired man's eye trailed up and down the boy's flushed skin. "Beautiful," he muttered into Natsume's stomach, tasting the smooth expanse with a gentle lap. "I could drink in every ounce of you."
Natsume was too thoroughly rolled to be embarrassed by the words. He startled as if waking when Matoba stood and began to re-button his shirt. "I really am impatient," Matoba confessed. "To do this first thing in the morning. You haven't even eaten yet."
Natsume batted his hand away and fixed his clothes himself, saying nothing. Now that his mind was clear, he was very relieved that Matoba chose to stop at that. I can't think clearly like this. I need to get out of here soon, he thought.
"There are some matters of business I must attend to today, but I will return soon for a proper discussion. Please relax here for now. I will send for a servant to bring you anything you require."
"You don't need to…"
"My resources are yours to enjoy, Natsume-kun," Matoba insisted. "Please consider yourself family rather than a guest."
That's not happening, Natsume shot back in his mind, but he was tired of arguing. When Matoba left, taking the Book of Friends with him, Natsume headed to the bathroom. He showered quickly, somewhat annoyed by the collection of scented soap and shampoo he had to choose from. Then very annoyed when he stepped out and discovered his clothes were gone and replaced with the red kimono from the night before. He considered going naked in protest, realized that it would counter-productive, and reluctantly slipped on the clothes.
There was a gentle rap on the door to the room. "Come in," Natsume called.
The door opened, and a female ayakashi entered the room with a sliver tray of food. She was decked in pale blue robes, with a plain, white mask for a face similar to those of Matoba's shiki. She set the tray down on the table. The spread was pretty if not basic, with a selection of egg, fish, pickled vegetables, and rice arranged neatly in matching china. Natsume's stomach rumbled when he remembered he skipped dinner the previous night. He sat at the table and took a few tentative bites.
The youkai stood by the table as Natsume ate, making him pause uncomfortably. "Um. Thank you," he tried.
"My pleasure, Natsume-sama," Natsume was surprised when she answered in a wispy voice. He had assumed she was as voiceless as the shiki.
"What's your name?" He asked curiously.
"Miyuki."
"Miyuki…can I ask…why do you serve the Matoba clan?"
"I cannot answer."
"Are you happy here?"
"I cannot answer."
"Why can't you talk to me? I won't tell anyone."
"I have been specifically forbidden to offer such a service."
Of course, Natsume frowned. Matoba did not want him to befriend the youkai. He wanted him to see her as a servant. "I don't need anything," he said. "Please leave me alone."
"As you wish, Natsume-sama," the youkai bowed low to the ground before fading from the room.
Natsume felt a little guilty. It wasn't her fault what the exorcists ordered her to do. He finished his meal in silence. About an hour after that, Natsume really wished he included the boring manga in his bag. On the table, Natsume noticed that while Matoba took the Book of Friends, he left everything else. He fiddled with the paper doll, but it stayed dead in his palm. It must be Natori's, but what was it doing in my bag? He wondered suspiciously. He finished his homework next, then checked the book that Matoba left on the desk. It was old and written in small print with old fashioned Kanji. Natsume gave up on it quickly and took to exploring the rest of the room.
There were more robes in the dresser, and more old books in the desk. That was the extent of it. Matoba clearly expected him to utilize the servant to bring him entertainment, but he couldn't bring himself to call on her. When she returned with lunch, however, Natsume gave in and asked for something to do. She brought him some more books, comics, and a radio. It wasn't perfect, but it at least kept him from pulling out his hair in boredom.
It was midafternoon when Natsume felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He ran to the window. A moment later, he could see a white streak darting through the sky. "Nyanko-sensei," Natsume flung open the window and shouted more forcefully through the bars, "Nyanko-sensei!"
The white form changed direction and charged for the window. Natsume jumped back just as Madara struck the wall, shaking the room. The youkai seized the steel bars in his jaws. His neck tensed in effort, but he eventually tore them free from the foundation with a loud crack. He tossed it aside and forced his way in through the window.
"Nyanko-sensei!" Natsume could only repeat the youkai's name in relief, and threw his arms around the great, white beast.
The youkai shook him off dismissively. "Sorry, Natsume. I'm not holding back this time," Madara growled.
"You can't! Sen-" Natsume cut-off as Madara shoved past him. He fell backwards to the floor as the powerful ayakashi forced his way through the locked door and into the hall. "Sensei!" He scrambled to his feet and gave chase. A startled scream came from just ahead, and when Natsume turned the corner, Madara held a man in his mouth by the arm. The man cried out in pain when Madara began to shake him. "No!" Natsume reached for him, but stopped when he saw something standing in the doorway.
Matoba stepped into the room, wielding his longbow. The moment Madara set eyes on the dark-haired man, he dropped the other human and lunged. Matoba whispered something under his breath, and white ropes seized Madara around his neck and middle. They jerked him back like chains.
"I see the trap on the window was well laid," Matoba quipped, and released an arrow directly into Madara's chest.
The youkai howled in pain. His body writhed, but he tore at the bindings with his teeth valiantly, somehow unable to bite through the strange consistency. Another arrow hit his ribs, and this time Madara stopped in his tracks.
"STOP!" Natsume screamed, throwing himself between the two. Madara thrashed behind him, pupils constricted to livid slits, gone mad with fury. Hot stripes of crimson flowed down his snowy fur from the wounds on his chest. Natsume thought he would be sick.
"Natsume-kun, I can't allow a youkai to harm humans. You understand that, don't you?" Matoba's voice was strangely stiff. His own posture was rigid while his blank expression was carefully controlled.
Natsume felt the situation slipping from his grasp. "I won't forgive you if you kill him!" He threatened. The man drew another arrow. "Please, stop!" This time he begged, "I'll do anything, so please!" He ran forward into Matoba's chest, interrupting the man's stance. He grasped his clothes in tightly clenched fists and buried his tear-soaked face into them. "I'll do anything…don't kill Nyanko-sensei…" He dropped to his knees.
"Enough, Natsume! I'm not going to be killed by this child," Madara roared and strained against the bindings. They stretched thin, beginning to tear.
"Matoba-sama!" Cried one of the gathered men.
Matoba hesitated for a fraction of a second longer before lowering his bow and taking on a hand gesture. "Prepare a seal. Quickly," he ordered.
Hearing this, Madara redoubled his efforts, but the binding was tenacious and roped over his legs. The exorcists rushed to obey Matoba, forming a circle around the furious youkai and taking on the same hand gesture. Someone carried in a large, clay jar and set it down as close he dared. They chanted. Natsume's hair stood on end when strange energy rolled off Matoba and through him to reach Madara. The youkai convulsed and howled, his body melting to white mist and flying to the jar. One of the exorcists plugged it and set a paper seal over the lid, silencing it.
Natsume jumped to go to the jar, but Matoba grabbed his arm. "Reinforce the seal and take it to storage," the taller man directed breathlessly. "That one might be troublesome if it were at full strength."
"What are you going to do with him?" Natsume demanded.
"That remains to be seen, Natsume-kun," Matoba replied shortly. "You did beg so generously for its life."
~TBC~
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