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It started with a dog, a mask, and a handful of medicine. Like all things in his life it was accidental and born from something soft hearted and warm, something he refused to apologize for. Like all things in his life it had grown bigger and bigger.
Ultimately, it was something he chose not to regret
~
He twins the stems together one by one like that in and of itself is an act of worship, the mask less necessary than it was before sitting abandoned at the side of the shrine. Still no one sees him, because human's don't see Gods unless they're the same kind of people that Natsume used to be. It doesn't feel as different as it should, he reasons, but it feels different enough to be noticeably there. Something simmering, a change too far down to reach out and actually grab. A little thing that has yet to hatch, not quite fully coming into itself yet, but is waiting patiently because it knows that patience is among all things the greatest virtue. It's warm and just barely there, but it makes its presence known in the silent possessive moments like these. Stem after stem after stem.
"Zenken-kami," a voice greets as a creature settles at his side. That's the part he still hasn't gotten used to. The part that causes him to pause and nearly jolt back. He's treating a very thing line right now. Perched between the world of man and the world that's just ever so slightly beyond. He's used to being called Natsume. Used to the resentment or praise that twirled in the voices of those seeking either the book of names or their own names back. He was used to being mistaken for Reiko. He isn't just her descendant anymore though. Where as his grandmother was a bully for many yokai and rightly feared, he isn't in her shadow anymore. Not in the same way he was when he first moved her. Zenken-kami, it's a name that belongs entirely to him and him alone. It's a name that's steeped with reverence and respect among other things, but never once does it make refence to his grandmother and her legacy. This is his and only his, and the same possessive flair with which he hold the flowers tenderly also curls around the name like a great draconic beast seeking to guard its hoard. These flowers and that name are more valuable to him than any sum of silver or gold though.
He pulls the mask from the ground where he'd allowed it to rest and carefully presses it back to his face. More for appearances than anything else. He reeks of fledgling god, enough so to scare off most lower ranked and even a good amount of mid ranked yokai. Of course it's still not enough to scare off more powerful yokai like Nyanko-sensei or Misuzu. The Dog's Circle doesn't pay as much mind as others of their rank either, partially because they're his. He's a kind hearted thing, they know this through and through, it's part of why they began to exist in the first place. They have no reason to fear him, but that doesn't mean they lack respect either. To them he's still Natsume, so this being who settles next to him is a stranger.
While his body might still be human it's started to stray farther and farther from remaining that way. It's a guise and eventually whatever warms the center of his chest will hatch. Not for a while yet. Not until he's old and ready and had the time to enjoy the friends he'd made that he could have never had as a child. Still, he's drawn farther and farther from the familiar side of what's Human as his feet start to walk the border.
There exists two worlds in this life time. One that's human and one that's yokai. Natsume was born on one, but he could see either. Usually these worlds are kept separate, and for good reason, but this one boy had been so cursed with eyes that could see never realizing he'd instead been blessed and he also had fists that were wreathed with enough spiritually energy to defend himself. Natsume, Takashi the most recent of the line, was born on the side of that's which mortal. He could see though, and there were some creatures on the other side of that dividing line who decided to reach over.
Nyanko-sensei growls from his position. When he was first unsealed he rarely left his cat like form for his true beast like self. Partly because it was easier to follow Natsume and partly because he lacked the energy to consistently maintain that form after sleeping for so long. That isn't an issue at the- at Natsume's shrine. They're wreathed and energy here, sharp and clean from the staggering amount of belief he's already amassed in such a short bout of time. Most importantly, Nyanko-sensei is his, so that energy clings close and his first friend is able to stay in his true form, head rested in Natsume's lap while the other continues on with his flower crowns, unbothered by the world.
In an hour he'll have to go back. He'll have to gently lower himself off this line but he'll never be able to get as far across the human side of this divide as he could when he first started. He's strayed and wandered, but he's not entirely upset with that.
With the mask firmly in its place he turns to his visitor. "Is there something you need?" He asks. She looks human but she smells of yokai. Something about her is familiar but he can't place where that familiarity comes from.
"There is," she says, voice gentle despite the way it's slightly sad. A hollowness clinging to its depths. "I want you to tell me. A long time ago I knew a boy. A sad little boy, he was such a miserable thing. I want to know that he's happy."
This isn't a request he's sure if Zenken-kami can even grant. He's done his fair share of final requests for various yokai. From helping the little bird who wanted to thank the man that saved her from starving to the dog that only wishes to find its master. He did everything in his power to help them, but tracking down one person out of thousands was already hard, let alone millions or billions. It wasn't in his nature to deny though. "Tell me more about him."
The yokai's smile turned a little sadder as she dipped her head. Her shoulders seemed heavy for a moment, but she continued none the less. "I knew him when he was such a small thing, thrown around from house to house. He was so sad. He could see us too. I knew what it was like to be alone like that. So I made a mistake. I changed my form and approached him on the playground. I kept him company until his newest caretakers got sick of him again. Then someone saw the two of us, but, in reality they only saw him. I don't blame him for having been upset, realizing what I really was. That I wasn't the human companion he so desperately needed and painfully wanted. After he left I searched and searched, I left my home and desperately tried to find him, but in the end I couldn't. Tell me if you can, Zenken-kami, you who's a god of this brand new age. Did he ever get to be happy?"
Natsume froze, fingers gripping the flower stems a little tighter. His chest felt simultaneously frozen and like it was on fire. He cleared his throat none the less, inclining his head in her direction. "Yes. That boy ended up happier than he ever could have believed. He found friend, he found parents, he found where he belonged in the world. He found trusted allies and most importantly of all he found himself. The him that got buried somewhere along the way. He wished he could have apologized for yelling at you, for telling you to go away. He might have been human then, but eventually, he realized that maybe he belonged with a foot in the yokai world. So in that regard, he thanks you, for being the first to help put those pieces together, for being the first to make him question the feelings of those yokai too. You can go ahead and rest now, all your work is done."
The yokai sighed, her breath coming out in a relieved puff. "Thank you," she whispered, before her body dissolved into brilliant shimmery lights.
Silence reigned for a couple moment before Nyanko-sensei raised his head from Natsume's lap. "What was that? It's not usually like you to lie."
"I didn't," Natsume said.
With his lap free he removed his mask and finally stood up, letting him fall back into himself. All that he was and all that he could be. Moments later there was a cat at his thigh, guarding the way as the two walked. He'd changed. He didn't belong to just the humans. He didn't belong to just the yokai. He was more than his grandmother and kinder than her too. Perhaps that was part of why he'd gotten kindness in return. "Lets go home," he said. He'd gotten a couple prayers that he'd do his best to complete come morning. Medicine for a sick relatively, the return of a missing cat, just a little bit of luck. Small things, but things that'd inevitably bring joy. He'd gotten requests from yokai too. He'd grant them all the same.
There was no difference to him after all. A boy who wasn't fully human walked alongside a cat that was a little too empathetic to be completely yokai. Brushing and leaning their marks on one another, permanent and temporary alike. Regardless of their changes, they'd discovered where they belonged.