Warnings: References to events in Volume 12. Otherwise nothing in particular.

I thought it fitting to give Tanuma a gift on his birthday. Happy birthday, Tanuma!

Disclaimer: Natsume Yuujincho still doesn't belong to me.

# # # Glasses # # #

Clutching his bag to keep the fresh fruit stored inside from bouncing around, Tanuma Kaname dashed towards the train station as though a youkai was after him. One of the large, scary ones, which even his weak sight could tell contained far more teeth than any self-respecting creature should.

There wasn't, thankfully. So instead of fearing for his life, he merely sighed in disappointment as he skidded to a stop at the entrance to Sakaki Station just in time to see the northbound train pull away from the platform, slowly gaining speed. Great. And the next train's not for … what, thirty minutes? He walked over to the schedule, breath slowly calming, and sighed again. An hour. I really shouldn't have let my aunt talk me into a second serving.

As he paid for his ticket, he smiled reluctantly. His lunch sat with greater than usual weight in his stomach, after such a frantic dash. I'd forgotten how good a cook my aunt is. … I suppose it was worth it, even if it made me late. Father won't start worrying unless I don't make it home by evening.

He nodded to the station attendant, who nodded back politely, fed his ticket through the machine, and exited onto the platform. He saw about what he expected: a couple of vending machines in one corner of the platform, the stairs that led over the tracks and across to the other platform at the other end, and not another person in sight. This is going to be a long hour. I really should have brought a book.

Maybe that historical fantasy he'd caught Natsume reading once or twice. When he'd asked about it, Natsume had looked off to the side and admitted he enjoyed it with an expression more suited to admitting a crime. He'd added under his breath, in a tone that Kaname didn't think he was supposed to have heard, that it was nice to read stories in which the magic made sense. On a whim, Kaname had asked to borrow it once Natsume finished. It had sat in a lonely corner of his desk for nearly a month now, waiting for him to remember he had it at a time when he actually had time to sit down and read.

He'd apologized several times to Natsume for not having returned it yet. Natsume swore he didn't mind, but as always Kaname didn't know whether that meant that he honestly didn't, or that he simply feared that admitting he did would drive Kaname away somehow.

Dealing with Natsume could be frustrating like that, sometimes.

A southbound train pulled in, dislodged a handful of passengers, and started up again. The breeze from its passage rushed through his bangs and forced him into a temporary squint as it pulled away. He stood far enough from the exit that none of the former passengers took any notice of him at all, and after a moment he returned the favor, turning his gaze back towards the far side of the platform and the small, overgrown field that stood between it and the next row of houses.

Something dark flashed across the lower corner of the field, so quickly that Kaname found himself questioning whether it had in fact happened at all. At a distance, he always had trouble figuring out what was truly the shadow that was usually all he could see of ayakashi, and what was simply his eyes playing tricks on him or his tendency towards wishful thinking. He took a couple of steps to the side, trying to get another look. Nothing, just the gently rustling grass. Another couple of steps, and he abruptly bumped into something surprisingly soft.

He staggered away, looking up at the man he'd run into, an apology already on his lips. "Excuse me, sir, I wasn't looking where I was going. I – Natori-san, is that you?"

He almost hadn't recognized the man, in hat and sunglasses and long coat, a large duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Still, it was a face that was hard to forget. Particularly when after his first encounter with the man, it seemed that every time he turned around, the television had been running a commercial for one of his dramas. It had given him cause to be glad that they did not often watch television at home; the more opportunities he had to avoid the subject, the better he could ignore the twisting in his gut that felt an awful lot like jealousy whenever he saw the man's face.

The actor tilted his hat back and peered down at him for a long moment. Of course he wouldn't remember. Kaname thought. Not with Natsume there too.

To his surprise, though, the man's face brightened into the sort of charming smile that made Kaname instinctively expect to see glowing backgrounds or roses. "You're Natsume's friend, aren't you? … Takada, was it?"

"Tanuma." He corrected. He found it surprisingly difficult to be irritated when Natori had gotten the important part right.

"Tanuma, right. I apologize, I'm terrible with names." He peered at Kaname again. "You have recovered from that mess, I hope? No ill effects?"

Kaname shook his head. That had been one of his worst episodes in a long time, but once away from the dense youki surrounding Omibashira's mansion, he hadn't had any further problems. "I'm fine." Suddenly realizing he hadn't had a chance to properly say so before, he added, "Thank you for your help, before. I don't think we would have made it without you." He paused, then reluctantly added, "I'm sorry I didn't heed your initial warning."

Natori raised an eyebrow. "No you're not."

That startled a laugh out of Kaname, and he was surprised to find himself grinning, like he was sharing a secret with this man he wasn't even sure he liked. "No." He agreed. "I'm not."

A brief silence fell. Natori's eyes shifted to the side for a moment, and his face changed minutely. Kaname didn't think he'd even have noticed if he hadn't become so attuned to the ways in which Natsume acted when he was trying to hide that he could see something no one else could. He found himself abruptly reminded of the blonde with a horned mask who had been the first person he'd seen when he'd woken up, but had disappeared after a short exchange with Natsume. "Would you thank … Hiiragi for me, too?" He asked, hoping he was remembering the name right.

Surprise passed across Natori's face briefly, then yet another bright smile burned it away. "You really are perceptive, aren't you? She says that you are quite welcome."

Just because I can't see doesn't mean I'm blind. Kaname wanted to say, but he didn't think he'd ever be that brave. It was hardly anything new, after all.

Casting around for another topic, he diffidently asked, "Are you headed out to do another job, now?" The hat and glasses and coat screamed disguise to him. Rather blatantly, in fact, but it somehow didn't surprise him with this particular man.

Natori nodded. "Indeed I am." And smiled that excessively charming smile again. Kaname was beginning to understand Natsume's reaction to that particular expression. "There's no need to worry – this particular job is south of here, so it's very unlikely to end up involving Natsume again."

On the one hand, Kaname appreciated knowing that, and appreciated that Natori thought enough of his worry for Natsume that he would say as much. On the other … "Do you two … do that sort of thing often?" He wasn't even sure how he felt about that. Frustrated and jealous might make a good start, though as always he hated his own pettiness. I should be glad Natsume has a friend he can share his world with.

Natori blinked, again looking almost surprised, and perhaps a bit chagrined. "Does he not …? No, I suppose he wouldn't." His expression softened into something a lot more human, and he said gently, "We have worked together on occasion. But not often, no. The two of us … don't always see eye to eye."

How can you not, when you both see the same scenery? But again, Kaname stayed silent.

Maybe Natori read something in his face, because he added, "Natsume is lucky to have a friend like you."

"But – I can't do anything. I just get in the way and make him worry." There was so much more he could have said, a thousand petty fears, but he suddenly remembered that for all they shared a tenuous connection through Natsume, he didn't really know Natori at all. What was he doing, telling the exorcist things he could barely consider telling even Natsume?

"Ahaha." Kaname stiffened, but the laughter didn't seem malicious. "It is precisely because he worries. I sometimes wonder..." Natori trailed off, then shook his head. Kaname couldn't tell, this time, whether it was in response to something he couldn't see, or simply a casual gesture.

"I don't understand." He said quietly.

Natori shoved his hands in his pockets, still looking down at him with that uncommonly serious face. "He worries about keeping you safe because he cares. And he worries about keeping himself safe because he knows you care for him."

"Not enough." Kaname muttered.

Before he had too much time to regret his ill-considered statement, Natori laughed again. "True. But think how much worse he would be otherwise." A brief pause, and he rolled his eyes. "Oh hush."

It's so frustrating only hearing one side of the conversation. Kaname did feel a bit better when Natori started, then looked chagrined. "I apologize. As I was saying, those bonds are important, especially to Natsume. He somehow hasn't managed to lose his faith in the goodness of people yet. How he can still …" Another shake of his head, and for a moment Kaname thought he saw something dark and sad in Natori's expression, something that reminded him of that look he'd caught on Natsume's face once or twice, when he got too caught up in thinking about certain parts of his childhood.

And he wondered, a little bit, if Natsume had really maintained as much faith as Natori seemed to believe.

In certain people, perhaps. The Fujiwaras. Taki, maybe. He liked to think himself. Though I'm not sure you can really call it faith when he spends so much time hiding parts of himself away.

He carefully unclenched his fists, wondering when they'd become so tight, and looked at the floor, knowing that his bangs would shade his expression. How can I get close when he keeps pushing me away?

… How can I stop wondering if maybe he'd be happier if I just left him alone?

"It's hard for him, too." Natori said.

Kaname's head shot up. "You think I don't know that?"

Natori raised a challenging eyebrow. "So will you just give up? Disappear, because it's too hard to stay?"

At some point, his fists must have clenched again, because right now it was all he could do to keep himself from punching Natori in the face. Even if he knew he'd lose that fight in a heartbeat. Even so. "Never."

And like flipping a light switch, the intensity disappeared from Natori's face, replaced by another of his sparkling smiles. It sufficiently disconcerted Kaname that it didn't even occur to him to try and brush Natori's hand away as it landed softly on his head. "You're a good kid." He said quietly. "Like I said. Natsume is lucky to have a friend like you."

Kaname looked down again. "I wish there was more I could do to help." I'm not as good a person as you seem to think I am.

The hand withdrew. "I think you'll find that just being yourself is enough."

When Kaname looked back up, a shadow crossed Natori's face.

An actual shadow.

He blinked, but whatever it had been, it was gone. That almost looked like – but it couldn't be, because surely if it had been, Natori-san would have noticed …?

The man raised a questioning eyebrow. "Um. Did one of them just … pass by? About here?" He held his hand up at the level of his nose.

Natori looked puzzled. "No, nothing." Paused, clearly listening, eyebrows raising. "Oh. I see." He pulled up both sleeves of his coat and, after a quick once-over, held out his left arm, palm up. "Something like this?"

The same shadow, or one very like it, spiraled its way about halfway down Natori's arm, then stopped, a little blob of darkness about half again as long as it was wide, looking completely out of place against the other man's pale skin. "Yes, that exactly. So it's – is it actually –?"

Why would an exorcist let a youkai live on him?

Either his face was more expressive than he thought, or Natori far better at reading people than him; as if in answer to his thoughts the older man said, "Believe me, it wasn't my idea." He peered at Kaname for a moment, then with what looked like a shrug, reached up with his other hand and took off his glasses, holding them out. "Here, try these on."

Kaname blinked. "But – I don't need glasses. And I'm sure our prescriptions wouldn't –"

"They're just glass, no prescription." Natori said. "A … tool of the trade, shall we say. Just give them a try."

Exorcists wear glasses? But they're just … Reluctantly, Kaname accepted them, awkwardly putting them on, then almost immediately had to push them up when they slid most of the way down his nose. He blinked experimentally once or twice, almost surprised to see that the surrounding area hadn't changed. They really are just glass.

He looked back down at Natori's arm, and jumped. What had been a vague, shadow blob, was now still vague, still shadowy, but amazingly recognizably, "A gecko?"

He looked up and jumped again. Blurred and faded, like a ghost from a horror movie seen in a lightly-fogged mirror, Hiiragi hovered to Natori's right. Noticing his stare, she inclined her head in greeting. Kaname fought the urge to incline his head back.

"Indeed it is." Natori nodded, and Kaname dragged his attention back. He could still see Hiiragi, which was … more disconcerting than he would have expected. "Useful, aren't they?"

Kaname touched the frames in wonder. "And these are just … normal glasses? But – why, if you can see …?"

"I can see more clearly than most, but you never know when that extra little bit might make the difference. Besides," he shrugged again, and offered a smile that somehow managed to be the sparkliest so far, "what would a proper disguise be without glasses?"

That dragged another reluctant laugh out of Kaname, and he found himself replying in a tone almost as light-hearted, "I think for a proper disguise they're supposed to be sunglasses."

"Hmm, you make a good point, young man." Natori said solemnly, the impression so well done that Kaname had to struggle against the urge to laugh again. Off to the side, Hiiragi shook her head. Kaname suspected she had said something, as well, with the way that Natori hesitated for the barest moment, then rolled his eyes.

With a near-physical reluctance, Kaname removed the glasses. If he didn't give them back soon, he feared he wouldn't be able to make himself give them back at all. For a moment, the world almost seemed to dim, in some indefinable way, even though he knew that nothing – aside from the now-shapeless blob skittering up Natori's arm and into his sleeve and the sudden absence at the man's side – had actually changed.

Overhead, a professionally friendly voice announced the imminent arrival of the next southbound train. Natori hitched the bag he carried higher on his shoulder and nodded to Kaname. "I fear that is my cue. It was a pleasure to meet you again, Tanuma-kun."

"Likewise." I think. He held out the glasses. "Here. Thank you for showing them to me."

Natori waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, no need. You can keep them." A side zipper on his bag slid open, and another pair of glasses floated out and into his outstretched hand. Kaname looked around, but the platform remained as deserted as before. Hiiragi probably checked before she did that. They don't seem like the sort to make that kind of mistake.

As the zipper closed, Natori put them on and winked. "It never hurts to carry a spare."

Kaname's grip on the glasses tightened. He made no further attempt to demur, although he knew he really should. "… Thank you."

Another gleaming smile. He seemed to never run low on them. "It's the least I can do for Natsume's friend. I hope they serve you well." And with a jaunty wave that looked a great deal more like a 'see you later' than a 'goodbye', Natori turned and walked away, reaching the platform just as the southbound train came to a stop.

Kaname stared after him for several minutes after the train left the station, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He really is … somewhat overwhelming.

He looked down at the glasses in his hand. Out across the once again nearly deserted platform, as though afraid someone would come after him and demand that he return them after all.

It's the least I can do for Natsume's friend.

He took another deep breath, slid the glasses on quickly, and blew it out in a gust that was almost a laugh. What am I doing, getting nervous? They're just glasses. Maybe it was his imagination, but it felt like they fit better this time.

He bit his lip. There was so very little he could do to help Natsume.

... But you never know when that extra little bit might make the difference.

17 September 2013