Natsume Yuujinchou Fan Fiction ❯ His Wedding Night ❯ Chapter 3
[ 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: 2 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 2.5K | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Natsume Yuujinchou Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Occult / Drama / Psychological | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.03.2011 | Updated On: 10.21.2011 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 2.5K | Status: Completed
~Part 3~
They walked for a long time before reaching a road, and an even longer car ride took them to a large house in the middle of nowhere. With the veil over his face, Natsume couldn't see much of the outside world. But even if he could, he had no idea where they were. He looked upwards in hopes of seeing Madara's white form zipping along close by, but the sky remained empty of everything but stars. The shiki pushed him along as they entered the building.
It was an old mansion. A thick smell of dust tickled Natsume's nose, and the floorboard creaked as the group walked over them. A number of candles lit the halls as they led him up a flight of stairs and into a small, Japanese-style room with tatami flooring.
Almost immediately on entering, the shiki forced Natsume to his knees. It yanked on the back of his head to lift his chin. Though he couldn't see him clearly, Natsume recognized the figure standing in the center of the room as the head of the Matoba clan.
"Sir, we have captured the youkai you requested," said one of the men.
Matoba Seiji was young for his position. He was handsome, with a strong jaw and long, raven hair tied back. His eye was steely, with the other hidden by an eye patch. Because his ancestor promised it to a youkai and betrayed it, he had told Natsume, and now the demons sought it for themselves.
Natsume's heart raced despite himself. It was easy to be brave when nothing was happening. But under the Matoba head's appraising gaze, a sense of apprehension tingled down his spine. It dried his mouth and stuttered his thoughts, and when Matoba finally approached him, Natsume flinched away from his hand.
It was far past the point of avoiding it. Matoba wordlessly pulled off the veil, revealing the dim room to Natsume's eyes and the boy's face to its occupants.
Genuine surprise flitted across Matoba's face, and for a moment, Natsume thought he looked younger than he first guessed. But just as quickly, the taller man's face relaxed back into a calculating smirk. "You are all excused," Matoba said coolly. No explanation, no word of acknowledgement, just an order. The men and shiki obeyed him immediately and absolutely, leaving Natsume alone with the Matoba clan head.
For a while, they didn't say anything. Natsume sat on the floor with his legs tucked under him and his bound wrists resting in his lap. The wedding robes spilled around him evenly to form a white circle that absorbed the flickering candlelight rather than reflected it, glowing like a ghost. He did his best to look the other in the eye, returning the even stare with an uneven one of his own.
"I'm surprised," Matoba's voice rumbled half to himself. "I was certain we'd meet again soon, but I wasn't expecting this at all."
Natsume averted his eyes at last. "Nyanko-sensei will be coming soon," he said. Maybe.
"I want to help you, Natsume-kun. This is quite serious," Matoba knelt in front of him, a centimeter too close for comfort. "Are you so taken by the youkai that you wish to marry one?"
Natsume choked. "It's not like that!" He shouted, a little higher pitched than he meant. This time he couldn't hide the reddening of his face. "I-I was trying to protect the real princess! From you!"
"You spend a lot of time protecting youkai, it seems."
"Because they're important to me."
Matoba touched Natsume's cheek suddenly. Natsume flinched again, cursing inwardly at losing his composure so easily.
"Is the touch of another human so detestable?" Matoba asked, tracing his finger over the smaller boy's jaw and over his lightly painted lips. Natsume looked away again, but Matoba seized his chin firmly and forced his head back to look at his face. Natsume withered under the other's unrelenting gaze. He was close enough that Natsume could see his dark lashes. He had a sweet, wooden scent like incense. Natsume shuddered. He didn't notice until Matoba broke eye contact to look down that the man's hand had trailed down Natsume's throat and then rested on his collar-bone.
Natsume mouthed a query, but couldn't quite find the breath to speak. Matoba spoke in his place. "You interest me, Natsume-kun," he said. "But you're young, and you've been alone for so long. You cling to the ayakashi that acknowledge you, but you do not understand them as I do." The hand slipped under the hem of Natsume's dress, cool against the heated skin of his chest. Natsume raised his bound wrists to block him, but the man was suddenly very close. Looming over him with their knees touching, though Natsume didn't know when he moved. Matoba's other hand feathered over the nape of his neck and he was trapped. "And I understand you, too, Natsume-kun. I can show you so many things." His voice was like honey, his touch was like velvet. "That's all you wanted, isn't it? To be understood." His fingers brushed over Natsume's nipple, sending a thrill of heat down to his groin.
Natsume snapped back to reality when he recognized the feeling, and new fear rose in his throat. "Don't-" He gasped, touching Matoba's chest, but not quite pushing him away. His limbs suddenly felt weak.
"You don't like it?" Matoba's lips moved lightly over Natsume's as he asked. His fingers pinched the dark nub on the boy's chest ever so slightly. Natsume knew he should stop this. He knew, but he couldn't find the right words. His mind was too foggy, Matoba's cool voice and electric touches too distracting. He wasn't naïve to this feeling, he was a young man by now. But touching himself never made his body feel so hot.
"Interesting," Matoba hummed. "Those bindings are meant to make a youkai more docile, but they seem to be having the same effect on you."
Natsume didn't have time to register Matoba's words. The man overwhelmed him further, combining their lips, at the same time rolling the sensitive nipple more firmly. Natsume squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the front of the other man's kimono, pressing but still not pushing. Matoba deepened the kiss with a hand on the back of Natsume's head. His tongue slipped in, strong and oppressive, exploring every inch of his mouth. He pushed the wedding robes further open, revealing more of Natsume's pale skin to his touches.
Natsume made a sound in the back of his throat. He could feel Matoba smile over his lips.
Matoba broke the kiss at last, leaving Natsume dizzy and breathless. His mouth landed on the boy's neck next, kissing and licking and biting at his pulse. His hand left Natsume's chest and found the lower parting of the dress, sliding inside to rub his thigh. Natsume trembled in anticipation. He was already half hard when Matoba touched him.
Natsume gasped. Matoba continued to worry the mark on his throat and pulled him closer, meanwhile working Natsume's arousal at an excruciating pace. Then Natsume was suddenly on his back, with the head of the Matoba clan smirking over him.
What am I doing? "Let me go…" Natsume pleaded. Hot shame flooded his face. This was not only a man, but Matoba, and Natsume had never been so turned on in his life.
Said man took Natsume's bound wrists and placed them above his head. "This is your wedding night, is it not?" He dipped down to kiss Natsume's chest.
"Don't make fun of me."
"I didn't laugh."
Natsume tugged on his wrists, and was very surprised when Matoba released them almost immediately. Matoba hovered over him, moving up so that their noses almost touched. "Do you think I'm going to force you, Natsume-kun?" He asked. Before Natsume could reply, the now free hand dipped below his abdomen and took his manhood once more.
Natsume choked on his words as pleasure crept up his body. Matoba's sharp eye continued to stare at Natsume's face from his position – he's like a snake – expertly squeezing and stroking. Would he force him? Natsume was almost afraid to struggle and find out, but he DID want to fight, didn't he? Each time he readied a denial, he bit his tongue when Matoba's thumb rubbed that one spot on the tip. It wasn't fair.
The haze returned to Natsume's mind. His head fell to the side, and Matoba took to marking the freshly exposed skin on his neck. Matoba stopped his stroking briefly to pull Natsume's boxers off. He pushed the dress further up, revealing long, slim legs to the cool air. Natsume's cock was poised erect over his stomach. Matoba didn't ignore it for too long, but his grip was looser this time, teasing. Natsume squirmed, so focused on the lack of contact that he jumped when a slick finger entered him.
"Wait, that's-," Natsume flushed. Even aroused, it felt strange. Matoba's thin finger moved inside him, searching, and then pressing. Natsume's legs trembled when a different pleasure shot through his groin. "Ah…" he moaned wantonly, no longer able to care that it was Matoba's fingers coaxing the sound from him. Soon, another was added, and by the third finger, Matoba wasn't even touching Natsume's cock. It was tight and uncomfortable, but Natsume threw his head back in desperation. A heavy tingling from his lower body slowly reached upwards, and he knew he was about to come.
Matoba stopped, and for a moment, Natsume thought he would come anyway. But without stimulation, the pressure receded. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes to see Matoba opening his kimono. He was hard as well – was it just from watching him? Using an oily substance from a bottle Natsume didn't notice before, he slicked the thick member. He then grasped Natsume's hips and pushed one of his legs up to position himself. Natsume covered his eyes with his wrists.
Matoba grabbed his wrists and replaced them above his head once more. He watched Natsume's expression as he penetrated him. Natsume tensed, not helping the situation, and cried out in pain. He jerked on his arms, but Matoba kept them pinned this time while he filled him completely. Natsume's legs trembled and he felt pinpricks of tears burning in the back of his eyes. "S-Stop," he managed to breathe when Matoba began to move. "It hurts. I can't…" He cut off with a whimper when Matoba's teeth closed over the same spot on his neck.
After a few short movements that had Natsume fighting back tears, Matoba found the correct angle and took on a steady rhythm. Each motion reignited the electric pleasure that pulsed through Natsume's body, magnified by the strange sensation of Matoba inside him. The older man took Natsume's half-hard erection and pumped it back to life in time with his thrusts. The pain moved to the background, only sharpening his arousal when Matoba picked up the pace.
Natsume's breath came in desperate pants, only breaking when Matoba pulled him upwards to sit in his lap. In this new position, Matoba sank in deeper, a sigh the only sound he made next to Natsume's ear. Not knowing what to do with his arms, Natsume let them fall over the other's shoulders, his hands burying in the silky ponytail.
Matoba took him with greater fervor, fingers grasping his hips roughly to bring him down harder. Natsume couldn't control his voice as his hips bucked against the other man. A fire crawled up his body, choking him, the pleasure exploding like stars behind his eyes. Natsume came with a loud cry, Matoba pushing into the same spot and squeezing him roughly to draw it out as long as possible. Natsume was still reeling when the other tensed under him and gave a final thrust, a throaty moan signaling his own orgasm.
Natsume rested his head against Matoba's shoulder, shaking and gasping for air. His heart thudded in his ears, and he thought briefly of the last time he met Matoba before the memory flitted away. He closed his eyes and allowed his breath to even out, at the same time slowly remembering where he was. His eyes shot open and looked to see Matoba watching him contentedly. Natsume pulled away, but his wrists were still caught behind the other's head and instead he ended up on his back with Matoba still poised over him.
Matoba cupped Natsume's face and landed a strangely gentle kiss on his forehead. "I won't allow the ayakashi to have you," he said in a low voice. "I will take you back with me, so you can be trained properly."
Natsume froze. Take him away? Away from his friends? And what would become of the Fujiwara couple if he just disappeared? "You can't!" He cried, some of his strength slowly returning.
"You still resist it?" Matoba sighed in exasperation, "You're already mine, Natsume Takashi-kun." He kissed the boy deeply and stroked a hand up the length of his body.
There was an urgent knocking at the door. Matoba stopped what he was doing immediately and raised his head. "Yes?" He called, only a sliver of his irritability audible.
"Sir, there is a powerful ayakashi approaching! Our seals around the boundary do not seem to affect it!"
Matoba Seiji sighed deeply. "How unfortunate," he said. "My apologies, Natsume-kun. My obligations to the clan must take priority over pleasure." He gave the boy another light kiss before he rose to his feet and adjusted his robes. Once decent, he exited the room without another word.
Natsume stayed where he was on the floor for a few minutes after. Slowly, he forced himself onto his stomach and to his knees. With only the quiet of the room surrounding him, there was nothing to obscure his thoughts. He supposed he should be upset, or angry. But really he only felt sore and lethargic. And messy. Every inch of his skin tingled from the feeling of being touched.
If anything, it was similar to the feeling of being beaten up by a youkai.
The window on the far wall shattered, the sudden noise barely registering to Natsume. Madara tumbled into the room, ignoring the destroyed wall and shards of glass littering the floor. "Natsume, those little idiots tricked us! The second they got a chance, they cast a spell and ran away from me!" He yowled in anger. "They didn't care about us, they were going to throw you to the wolves! I had to chase one down and make him tell me-" His nostrils flared suddenly. His large head looked down on Natsume sitting on the floor. Natsume hadn't had the time to fix the dress falling over his shoulders, or hide the dark bruises that bloomed on his chest and neck.
Madara's expression turned stony. "Where is he?" He asked icily.
"Nyanko-sensei-"
"Tell me where!" Madara's lips curled into a snarl and his eyes were wild. He raked his claws down the door, tearing a way open to the hall. Natsume leapt to his feet and grabbed on to the youkai's long fur.
"Sensei, please!" Natsume's voice broke. His throat was very tight suddenly. "Let's just go home. Please." He buried his face into Madara's shoulder, not quite trusting his voice anymore. Madara stiffened. He stayed still, but his breath came in heavy growls. It was a long and tense time before Madara turned his head and bit into the binding on Natsume's wrists, tearing it off with relative ease. He lowered himself so Natsume could crawl onto his back.
The doorway to the hall suddenly filled with shiki, but at that point, Madara kicked off from the window and launched into the sky. The shiki stumbled after them, wavering at the ledge in confusion. The wind whipped around Natsume's body, the dress offering no protection from the cool air. He pressed himself closer into Madara's warm coat and stole a glance backwards. In the gathered people outside the house, he thought he could recognize a single dark figure that stood among them, grinning up at him.
~~The End…Probably ~~
A/N: This is all I have so far, and it was meant to be the end. However, I may write more someday if we learn more about Matoba or I have another idea. Right now, I don't really know much about him beyond that he's sexy and kind of a jerk. So comment/review/criticize, let me know if you WANT more fics from me, or if I should die in a fire.
Converting /tmp/phppKUc94 to /dev/stdout
They walked for a long time before reaching a road, and an even longer car ride took them to a large house in the middle of nowhere. With the veil over his face, Natsume couldn't see much of the outside world. But even if he could, he had no idea where they were. He looked upwards in hopes of seeing Madara's white form zipping along close by, but the sky remained empty of everything but stars. The shiki pushed him along as they entered the building.
It was an old mansion. A thick smell of dust tickled Natsume's nose, and the floorboard creaked as the group walked over them. A number of candles lit the halls as they led him up a flight of stairs and into a small, Japanese-style room with tatami flooring.
Almost immediately on entering, the shiki forced Natsume to his knees. It yanked on the back of his head to lift his chin. Though he couldn't see him clearly, Natsume recognized the figure standing in the center of the room as the head of the Matoba clan.
"Sir, we have captured the youkai you requested," said one of the men.
Matoba Seiji was young for his position. He was handsome, with a strong jaw and long, raven hair tied back. His eye was steely, with the other hidden by an eye patch. Because his ancestor promised it to a youkai and betrayed it, he had told Natsume, and now the demons sought it for themselves.
Natsume's heart raced despite himself. It was easy to be brave when nothing was happening. But under the Matoba head's appraising gaze, a sense of apprehension tingled down his spine. It dried his mouth and stuttered his thoughts, and when Matoba finally approached him, Natsume flinched away from his hand.
It was far past the point of avoiding it. Matoba wordlessly pulled off the veil, revealing the dim room to Natsume's eyes and the boy's face to its occupants.
Genuine surprise flitted across Matoba's face, and for a moment, Natsume thought he looked younger than he first guessed. But just as quickly, the taller man's face relaxed back into a calculating smirk. "You are all excused," Matoba said coolly. No explanation, no word of acknowledgement, just an order. The men and shiki obeyed him immediately and absolutely, leaving Natsume alone with the Matoba clan head.
For a while, they didn't say anything. Natsume sat on the floor with his legs tucked under him and his bound wrists resting in his lap. The wedding robes spilled around him evenly to form a white circle that absorbed the flickering candlelight rather than reflected it, glowing like a ghost. He did his best to look the other in the eye, returning the even stare with an uneven one of his own.
"I'm surprised," Matoba's voice rumbled half to himself. "I was certain we'd meet again soon, but I wasn't expecting this at all."
Natsume averted his eyes at last. "Nyanko-sensei will be coming soon," he said. Maybe.
"I want to help you, Natsume-kun. This is quite serious," Matoba knelt in front of him, a centimeter too close for comfort. "Are you so taken by the youkai that you wish to marry one?"
Natsume choked. "It's not like that!" He shouted, a little higher pitched than he meant. This time he couldn't hide the reddening of his face. "I-I was trying to protect the real princess! From you!"
"You spend a lot of time protecting youkai, it seems."
"Because they're important to me."
Matoba touched Natsume's cheek suddenly. Natsume flinched again, cursing inwardly at losing his composure so easily.
"Is the touch of another human so detestable?" Matoba asked, tracing his finger over the smaller boy's jaw and over his lightly painted lips. Natsume looked away again, but Matoba seized his chin firmly and forced his head back to look at his face. Natsume withered under the other's unrelenting gaze. He was close enough that Natsume could see his dark lashes. He had a sweet, wooden scent like incense. Natsume shuddered. He didn't notice until Matoba broke eye contact to look down that the man's hand had trailed down Natsume's throat and then rested on his collar-bone.
Natsume mouthed a query, but couldn't quite find the breath to speak. Matoba spoke in his place. "You interest me, Natsume-kun," he said. "But you're young, and you've been alone for so long. You cling to the ayakashi that acknowledge you, but you do not understand them as I do." The hand slipped under the hem of Natsume's dress, cool against the heated skin of his chest. Natsume raised his bound wrists to block him, but the man was suddenly very close. Looming over him with their knees touching, though Natsume didn't know when he moved. Matoba's other hand feathered over the nape of his neck and he was trapped. "And I understand you, too, Natsume-kun. I can show you so many things." His voice was like honey, his touch was like velvet. "That's all you wanted, isn't it? To be understood." His fingers brushed over Natsume's nipple, sending a thrill of heat down to his groin.
Natsume snapped back to reality when he recognized the feeling, and new fear rose in his throat. "Don't-" He gasped, touching Matoba's chest, but not quite pushing him away. His limbs suddenly felt weak.
"You don't like it?" Matoba's lips moved lightly over Natsume's as he asked. His fingers pinched the dark nub on the boy's chest ever so slightly. Natsume knew he should stop this. He knew, but he couldn't find the right words. His mind was too foggy, Matoba's cool voice and electric touches too distracting. He wasn't naïve to this feeling, he was a young man by now. But touching himself never made his body feel so hot.
"Interesting," Matoba hummed. "Those bindings are meant to make a youkai more docile, but they seem to be having the same effect on you."
Natsume didn't have time to register Matoba's words. The man overwhelmed him further, combining their lips, at the same time rolling the sensitive nipple more firmly. Natsume squeezed his eyes shut and clutched the front of the other man's kimono, pressing but still not pushing. Matoba deepened the kiss with a hand on the back of Natsume's head. His tongue slipped in, strong and oppressive, exploring every inch of his mouth. He pushed the wedding robes further open, revealing more of Natsume's pale skin to his touches.
Natsume made a sound in the back of his throat. He could feel Matoba smile over his lips.
Matoba broke the kiss at last, leaving Natsume dizzy and breathless. His mouth landed on the boy's neck next, kissing and licking and biting at his pulse. His hand left Natsume's chest and found the lower parting of the dress, sliding inside to rub his thigh. Natsume trembled in anticipation. He was already half hard when Matoba touched him.
Natsume gasped. Matoba continued to worry the mark on his throat and pulled him closer, meanwhile working Natsume's arousal at an excruciating pace. Then Natsume was suddenly on his back, with the head of the Matoba clan smirking over him.
What am I doing? "Let me go…" Natsume pleaded. Hot shame flooded his face. This was not only a man, but Matoba, and Natsume had never been so turned on in his life.
Said man took Natsume's bound wrists and placed them above his head. "This is your wedding night, is it not?" He dipped down to kiss Natsume's chest.
"Don't make fun of me."
"I didn't laugh."
Natsume tugged on his wrists, and was very surprised when Matoba released them almost immediately. Matoba hovered over him, moving up so that their noses almost touched. "Do you think I'm going to force you, Natsume-kun?" He asked. Before Natsume could reply, the now free hand dipped below his abdomen and took his manhood once more.
Natsume choked on his words as pleasure crept up his body. Matoba's sharp eye continued to stare at Natsume's face from his position – he's like a snake – expertly squeezing and stroking. Would he force him? Natsume was almost afraid to struggle and find out, but he DID want to fight, didn't he? Each time he readied a denial, he bit his tongue when Matoba's thumb rubbed that one spot on the tip. It wasn't fair.
The haze returned to Natsume's mind. His head fell to the side, and Matoba took to marking the freshly exposed skin on his neck. Matoba stopped his stroking briefly to pull Natsume's boxers off. He pushed the dress further up, revealing long, slim legs to the cool air. Natsume's cock was poised erect over his stomach. Matoba didn't ignore it for too long, but his grip was looser this time, teasing. Natsume squirmed, so focused on the lack of contact that he jumped when a slick finger entered him.
"Wait, that's-," Natsume flushed. Even aroused, it felt strange. Matoba's thin finger moved inside him, searching, and then pressing. Natsume's legs trembled when a different pleasure shot through his groin. "Ah…" he moaned wantonly, no longer able to care that it was Matoba's fingers coaxing the sound from him. Soon, another was added, and by the third finger, Matoba wasn't even touching Natsume's cock. It was tight and uncomfortable, but Natsume threw his head back in desperation. A heavy tingling from his lower body slowly reached upwards, and he knew he was about to come.
Matoba stopped, and for a moment, Natsume thought he would come anyway. But without stimulation, the pressure receded. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes to see Matoba opening his kimono. He was hard as well – was it just from watching him? Using an oily substance from a bottle Natsume didn't notice before, he slicked the thick member. He then grasped Natsume's hips and pushed one of his legs up to position himself. Natsume covered his eyes with his wrists.
Matoba grabbed his wrists and replaced them above his head once more. He watched Natsume's expression as he penetrated him. Natsume tensed, not helping the situation, and cried out in pain. He jerked on his arms, but Matoba kept them pinned this time while he filled him completely. Natsume's legs trembled and he felt pinpricks of tears burning in the back of his eyes. "S-Stop," he managed to breathe when Matoba began to move. "It hurts. I can't…" He cut off with a whimper when Matoba's teeth closed over the same spot on his neck.
After a few short movements that had Natsume fighting back tears, Matoba found the correct angle and took on a steady rhythm. Each motion reignited the electric pleasure that pulsed through Natsume's body, magnified by the strange sensation of Matoba inside him. The older man took Natsume's half-hard erection and pumped it back to life in time with his thrusts. The pain moved to the background, only sharpening his arousal when Matoba picked up the pace.
Natsume's breath came in desperate pants, only breaking when Matoba pulled him upwards to sit in his lap. In this new position, Matoba sank in deeper, a sigh the only sound he made next to Natsume's ear. Not knowing what to do with his arms, Natsume let them fall over the other's shoulders, his hands burying in the silky ponytail.
Matoba took him with greater fervor, fingers grasping his hips roughly to bring him down harder. Natsume couldn't control his voice as his hips bucked against the other man. A fire crawled up his body, choking him, the pleasure exploding like stars behind his eyes. Natsume came with a loud cry, Matoba pushing into the same spot and squeezing him roughly to draw it out as long as possible. Natsume was still reeling when the other tensed under him and gave a final thrust, a throaty moan signaling his own orgasm.
Natsume rested his head against Matoba's shoulder, shaking and gasping for air. His heart thudded in his ears, and he thought briefly of the last time he met Matoba before the memory flitted away. He closed his eyes and allowed his breath to even out, at the same time slowly remembering where he was. His eyes shot open and looked to see Matoba watching him contentedly. Natsume pulled away, but his wrists were still caught behind the other's head and instead he ended up on his back with Matoba still poised over him.
Matoba cupped Natsume's face and landed a strangely gentle kiss on his forehead. "I won't allow the ayakashi to have you," he said in a low voice. "I will take you back with me, so you can be trained properly."
Natsume froze. Take him away? Away from his friends? And what would become of the Fujiwara couple if he just disappeared? "You can't!" He cried, some of his strength slowly returning.
"You still resist it?" Matoba sighed in exasperation, "You're already mine, Natsume Takashi-kun." He kissed the boy deeply and stroked a hand up the length of his body.
There was an urgent knocking at the door. Matoba stopped what he was doing immediately and raised his head. "Yes?" He called, only a sliver of his irritability audible.
"Sir, there is a powerful ayakashi approaching! Our seals around the boundary do not seem to affect it!"
Matoba Seiji sighed deeply. "How unfortunate," he said. "My apologies, Natsume-kun. My obligations to the clan must take priority over pleasure." He gave the boy another light kiss before he rose to his feet and adjusted his robes. Once decent, he exited the room without another word.
Natsume stayed where he was on the floor for a few minutes after. Slowly, he forced himself onto his stomach and to his knees. With only the quiet of the room surrounding him, there was nothing to obscure his thoughts. He supposed he should be upset, or angry. But really he only felt sore and lethargic. And messy. Every inch of his skin tingled from the feeling of being touched.
If anything, it was similar to the feeling of being beaten up by a youkai.
The window on the far wall shattered, the sudden noise barely registering to Natsume. Madara tumbled into the room, ignoring the destroyed wall and shards of glass littering the floor. "Natsume, those little idiots tricked us! The second they got a chance, they cast a spell and ran away from me!" He yowled in anger. "They didn't care about us, they were going to throw you to the wolves! I had to chase one down and make him tell me-" His nostrils flared suddenly. His large head looked down on Natsume sitting on the floor. Natsume hadn't had the time to fix the dress falling over his shoulders, or hide the dark bruises that bloomed on his chest and neck.
Madara's expression turned stony. "Where is he?" He asked icily.
"Nyanko-sensei-"
"Tell me where!" Madara's lips curled into a snarl and his eyes were wild. He raked his claws down the door, tearing a way open to the hall. Natsume leapt to his feet and grabbed on to the youkai's long fur.
"Sensei, please!" Natsume's voice broke. His throat was very tight suddenly. "Let's just go home. Please." He buried his face into Madara's shoulder, not quite trusting his voice anymore. Madara stiffened. He stayed still, but his breath came in heavy growls. It was a long and tense time before Madara turned his head and bit into the binding on Natsume's wrists, tearing it off with relative ease. He lowered himself so Natsume could crawl onto his back.
The doorway to the hall suddenly filled with shiki, but at that point, Madara kicked off from the window and launched into the sky. The shiki stumbled after them, wavering at the ledge in confusion. The wind whipped around Natsume's body, the dress offering no protection from the cool air. He pressed himself closer into Madara's warm coat and stole a glance backwards. In the gathered people outside the house, he thought he could recognize a single dark figure that stood among them, grinning up at him.
~~The End…Probably ~~
A/N: This is all I have so far, and it was meant to be the end. However, I may write more someday if we learn more about Matoba or I have another idea. Right now, I don't really know much about him beyond that he's sexy and kind of a jerk. So comment/review/criticize, let me know if you WANT more fics from me, or if I should die in a fire.
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