[2/?] If I Need You I'll Call

[selenias]

Title: If I Need You I'll Call
Fandom: Natsume Yuujinchou
Characters/pairing: Tanuma + Natori, Natsume later
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 2,220

Summary: It’s an ordinary day. Except. Natsume Takashi has vanished over night. After a phone call from Tanuma, Natori begins searching for his missing friend.

Chapters: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five?

Notes: Wanted to write a story where Natsume's past is explored through the context of those who know him. Tanuma and Natori first meet in Omibashira and their screen time together didn't seem to show that they liked each other very much! I thought it would be interesting to contextualize their relationship a little further.

Rough draft, because the whole thing is a WIP still.

- - -
- - -

CHAPTER ONE

 

Natori’s phone goes off at 7:30, which he rolls over and ignores a handful of times. This late in the year the sun isn’t up until past eight, and he rises with it, no sooner -- of which he’s told his director in many, many offhand comments. Maybe he needed to be more direct. The possibility of it being a telemarketer doesn’t escape him, and a small part of his brain, the one reserved for the heavier thoughts that always seems to be spinning grim possibilities, says but what if it’s Natsume --

 

“It’s an unknown number.”

 

Hiiragi’s voice was calm and cool, delicately measured. Natori cracked open his eyes to blink at the wall. The light of his phone lit up the ceiling and was just visible from the corner of his eye. He didn’t place it far enough away to ignore it for much longer. “Digits?” He yawned.

 

“Local. You should answer it.”

 

Natsume doesn’t have a phone aside from the landline in the Fujiwara’s, he knows. But his number can’t be called by just anyone. It’s a private line.

 

It’s ridiculous that he feels compelled to answer it, but there’s a lot more to be said for what it means that he’s concerned when nothing has even happened.

 

It’s 7:35 when the phone rings for the third time, and Natori flings back his quilt so he can stomp over to where it’s despondently ringing it’s shrill little tone.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Oh,” a voice mutters, and Natori notes the surprise behind the line, as if they thought no one would answer.

 

“Can I help you?” Natori mutters back, letting a little irritation sink into his voice. Surely the caller knows the time. Or this is a prank call, and he needs to change his number again. Fans can be resilient sometimes.

 

“Natori-san, I apologize for the early call. This is Tanuma Kaname, Natsume-kun’s friend. We met at the Omibashira mansion, if you remember.”

 

“Natsume-kun’s friend,” he says blankly. He blanches. The friend who could see the shadow’s of youkai, but who was otherwise entirely unremarkable. Except for his dedication to his friendship with the one they had in common. “Why do you have this number?” He knows the answer.

 

“Natsume gave it to me. For emergencies.”

 

Natori rubbed the crust from his eyes and processed what that meant. That Natsume had anticipated that there may or would be a moment in his life where he would be unable to help someone he cared about, who would be the best person to replace him in that instant? And to be unable to go to someone’s aid -- he was a kid that would have those dark thoughts.

 

Natori sat down at the edge of his bed and held still. “Not a friendly call, then. Are you alright?”

 

“Y-yes. Er, no. I wasn’t calling for me. It’s about Natsume. He’s... missing.”

 

“Missing?”

 

“The Fujiwaras called the police this morning. He didn’t make it home from class yesterday.”

 

Police. Missing. Since yesterday.

 

Natori’s hand curled on his leg. The lizard crawled across his knuckle. He didn’t bother to stop the erratic bounce to it, the muscle spasmping from the sudden tension that sprung up like a pulled cord. How many times he’d had this vision of Natsume quietly vanishing into the underbelly of the world and how quick it was to confirm it. “You boys are awfully friendly. You didn’t walk him home?”

 

“He doesn’t like it when I do that.”

 

Of course.

 

“How many people know of his absence?”

 

Tanuma’s voice is quiet. It’s always quiet. “I don’t know. Not many, yet, I don’t think. This just happened.”

 

“Be honest with me, Tanuma-kun. Has anything happened of late that would take Natsume by surprise?”

 

“Nothing out of the ordinary that I’ve seen.”

 

And you don’t see much.

 

“Alright. Thank you for the call.”

 

“W-wait, please. What happens now?” Natori knows what he wants.

 

“It wouldn’t do to involve Natsume’s most important friend. I’ll be looking for him, of course.”

 

Natori hears the phone shift, and then Tanuma’s voice, sharp and clear cut. “I want to help. I’m going to help.”

 

Natori contemplates it, but not for very long. Tanuma’s vision was not so good as to make him useful. His courage was admirable, for sure --  but maybe, in another way...

 

“Tanuma-kun. I sincerely appreciate you looking out for Natsume. I won’t disappoint either of you. Please trust me that I will find some information. In the meanwhile, keep your head down, and if you hear anything...” Natori wiped an eyelash from the corner of his eye, some crust from sleep.

 

“I understand. Please, don’t block me out.”

 

 

 

 

At 8:30, Natori’s had coffee, showered, shaved, and dressed in a nice plum colored suit. It’s too cold for just that, though, so while it dampens his impression of great importance, he slips on his coat and a hat before leaving his apartment behind. He doesn’t look like an actor right now, but he intends to play the part all day.

 

It would be good to ask the important questions before someone less knowledgeable asked all the wrong one. The police mean well -- it’s just they don’t know. And the families Natsume had visited like some sort of ghostly spirit and quietly departed again -- those are the kind of people that will give the wrong answers, and Natsume’s disappearance will be another file in the back of a drawer in a dark room that stays closed.

 

It’s a morning like any other. Except, Natsume’s absence has been noticed -- by several ordinary people.

 

And that’s not entirely unusual. Not calling his family is unusual however for the boy that would willingly meet Matoba in a lone setting if it meant the Fujiwara’s didn’t have to see his bad company. And for Tanuma-kun to call so out of the blue -- there’s a perverse fear hanging over his head that if Natsume didn’t call, it’s because it was already too late.

 

He’s dead, maybe. He could be. It would be unfortunate.

 

But it wouldn’t do for an extraordinary boy to die in such an ordinary way.

 

Tanuma called him because he believed Natsume’s disappearance to be a youkai one.

 

But what if it’s not? Then what?

 

“Shuuichi-san. Get on the train.”

 

Hiiragi’s hand pressed into the back of his tense shoulders.

 

He sighed and got on the train.

 

 

 
 

 

The Fujiwara’s were absent when Natori arrived.

 

Notably, the police were not.

 

Schooling his features, Natori straightened his shoulders. “Hello,” he called. “Are the Fujiwara’s here, by chance?”

 

A disheveled man looked up from his search of the front yard -- which, while not as charming and clean in the late autumn as it was in the summer, appeared to yield nothing of consequence. His face said he wasn’t impressed or taking this particularly seriously. And if it had been any normal child, Natori might understand. But this was Natsume.

 

“Are you a friend of the family?”

 

“Yes, I’m a second cousin.” The officer looked at his hair, and seemingly satisfied that they at least shared the same shade of blonde to Natsume’s, noded his head in recognition.

 

“The Fujiwara’s are at the station. Don’t venture down there, though. We’re certain Natsume-kun will show up.”

 

Natori frowned. “Does Natsume disappear regularly? This seems like unusual behavior to me.”

 

“He’s had a little bit of history with law enforcement. He was a runaway for a week, once. He’s given a lot of his caretakers a bad time. Which I’m sure you know all about.”

 

No, only the pieces Natsume would give him. That he’d been treated with unkindness until someone wanted him. And Natsume made it a point to separate his past from his present, and Natori knew better than to press on a bruise.

 

“It doesn’t strike you as odd that he wouldn’t come home here?”

 

“It’s common for children who have a history of disappearing to have simply gone away without informing anyone. Probably with someone.”

 

“I’m sure the Fujiwara’s told you then, that Natsume-kun is not the kind of child that disappears without a note.”

 

The officer considered Natori with a more alert gaze. He wondered if maybe he’d pushed him and had been too blunt, and then all these questions would be deflected the same way.

 

“I understand your concern. Please know though that we’re looking for him. I know the foster care system and the difficulties a child like Natsume-kun would have endured, and that the Fujiwara’s have never had a problem with him. However, I can’t not take his history into account.”

 

“That’s fair,” Natori muttered. His mouth tasted like ash. “I apologize for taking up your time.”

 

“It’s Detective Takahiro-san.” He considered him once more. “Here, take my card. If you learn anything, please call.”

 

“Of course.” They nodded at each other, and the officer departed the grounds of the Fujiwara house.

 

Natori watched him go above the rim of his glasses, then called Hiiragi’s name, low and soft.

 

“Can you unlock the door?”

 

“I can. Is that what you’re wanting?”

 

“Perhaps,” Natori muttered. He approached the front door and considered it.

 

In the bag that Natsume always wore around his waist was the book of friends.

 

He didn’t want it, but... it wouldn’t do for a youkai to take it in Natsume’s absence.

 

This was a good thing that he came here first.

 

“Hiiragi, search Natsume’s room. I’m going to walk around the house.”

 

“Yes,” she said. And curtly disappeared.

 

- - -

 

At two o’clock in the afternoon the Fujiwara’s returned home. Shigeru-san helped his wife from the car and they both walked to the front door together, quiet and still. Touko-san made tea and they both sat down beside each other at the table.

 

They waited for a call.

 

- - -

 

Natori wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the taste of failure, but he was feeling the resentment at himself, his inability to make sense out of nothing when the answer should have been obvious.

 

He ventured into Yotsuhara.

 

The trees didn’t part for him and it was darkening quickly as dusk came at four now, but Natori held out. This was the place that called to Natsume again and again, more than any part of the town, it was the quiet of the brook and the solitude of the trees that lured him. He was a boy who didn’t want to be lonely, but was very much alone.

 

Natori traced his ghost in the air with the tips of his fingers, considering.

 

“It’s quiet,” he said then. “A little too much, hmm Sasago? Uruhime?”

 

His youkai nodded.

 

“I can fetch Misuzu-sama,” Hiiragi said.

 

Natori watched the shadows get darker. “I don’t think there will be any need for that.”

 

“Exorcist. Why have you come to our forest?”

 

It was quiet, he realized, because they had known he’d been there since morning.

 

Natori looked skyward, spotted the great head of a horse with wild eyes, a hoof and a human hand, and the fifty, no -- one-hundred youkai swinging from the trees, the ends of his hair, all so chaotic in their motions and talking that he had to steel himself.

 

“I’ve come looking for Natsume. Have you seen him?”

 

The youkai quieted, and then a smaller youkai burst forth from behind Misuzu’s hair. “You’re an exorcist! You probabily have ill-intentions toward our master!”

 

Natori considered, then pulled his glasses of his face so he could drag his hand down it, sighing. The small youkai was round and bird-like, and it was fitting for the way it squawked in such poor fashion. “So you haven’t see him,” he continued.

 

“Exorcist, why do you look for the human child?”

 

“Because he’s missing,” he snapped. “Natsume did not make it home last night and the family he lives with reported it to human authorities. But when Natsume goes missing, it’s because of a youkai. Are you sincerely telling me that you have not seen Natsume between then and now?”

 

The youkai were muttering amongst themselves, but the air was charged with energy. The great beast, Misuzu, swooped low to Natori’s level. Both eyes considered him, almost cajolingly. “Is Natsume-dono really absent from his place of residence?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I see. Then we will help look. Humans truly have short lives.”

 

 

 

 

When Natori left the forest, he emerged precariously close to the Fujiwara house. Natori expected to see lights, but only one room was carefully lit up: the one on the second floor.

 

Natori stared hard at it. “His guardians left the light on for him.”

 

“Yes, to help guide him,” Hiiragi said. She too was still.

 

Natori rubbed his neck. “Well, I guess today was a failure.”

 

“No. We eliminated many possibilities and gained some allies. Misuzu-same rules over the forest. He will spread the word that Natsume is missing. It’s good that we came.”

 

“I see.” Natori gave one last cursory sweep over of the Fujiwara residence before winding his way down the sidewalk.

 

It hadn’t been a minute before something lurched out from the shadows to his right and Natori leaped sideways.

 

“Oh, forgive me, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

 

Natori stared hard at the lady with the flashlight before him. It wasn’t quite dark enough for one, but... oh.

 

“Fujiwara-san,” he said, shocked. And immediately choked.

 

She was searching for her foster son in the dark.