the house is (not) dust
Dec. 27th, 2018 01:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seleniasTitle: the house is (not) dust
Prompt: 7. My body is a house, but yours is a home.
Fandom: Natsume Yuujinchou
Characters/pairing: Natori +/ Matoba
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 384
Seiji noted with some surprise that the slippers were too large for his feet. Natori glanced up the hall and then back the other way before tugging on the sleeve of his uniform -- Seiji cleared the first step and followed after. No noise pursued them, but tension made him walk quickly; Shuuichi’s legs ate up the floor like a track runner.
“You should have sent a charm or something. You would have been in trouble if I wasn’t here.”
In what way, he wondered. “I’ll be sure to remember,” he replied.
“Please do.”
Natori’s look was distant. He slapped a pair of cushions on the ground beside a small folding table and Seiji kneeled in the space. Paper scraps littered a desk and books with bookmarks hanging out the side covered a small portion. He spied the junior year chemistry book, but it’s pages were clean and lined up with no spaces between. A bed in the corner was neatly drawn up with a blue duvet and several jackets were draped over the back of a tall, brown desk chair.
“Do you want tea?”
Seiji shifted his gaze back again. Natori’s eyes were focused entirely on him. “If it’s no trouble.”
“Why would it be trouble,” Natori grumbled again. He disappeared out of the room, door sliding shut behind him and Seiji was suddenly left with the quiet.
He didn’t really want to be sitting.
When Natori returned, he had slid open the door to the porch and was looking south toward the heavy sunlight tangling in the garden. Roses budded along a fence line and tall grasses settled in the spots where other plants had yet to catch up. Summertime would be well underway in the next several weeks.
He craned his neck, feeling, “...You fixed the wards,” he said. Surprised.
Natori poured tea and then sat back on his heels, expression unreadable. He drew the sheaf of papers on the table close, the business he’d been privy to suddenly new and interesting again. 10000 yen reward for capture of-- “They must be solid for you to say that. Don’t strain yourself with dishonesty.”
“Not at all.” Knowing the preening that would ensue, he offered, not unkindly, “They’re cleanly crafted.”
Natori looked at him, squinted into the harsh afternoon light and said no more.
Prompt: 7. My body is a house, but yours is a home.
Fandom: Natsume Yuujinchou
Characters/pairing: Natori +/ Matoba
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 384
Seiji noted with some surprise that the slippers were too large for his feet. Natori glanced up the hall and then back the other way before tugging on the sleeve of his uniform -- Seiji cleared the first step and followed after. No noise pursued them, but tension made him walk quickly; Shuuichi’s legs ate up the floor like a track runner.
“You should have sent a charm or something. You would have been in trouble if I wasn’t here.”
In what way, he wondered. “I’ll be sure to remember,” he replied.
“Please do.”
Natori’s look was distant. He slapped a pair of cushions on the ground beside a small folding table and Seiji kneeled in the space. Paper scraps littered a desk and books with bookmarks hanging out the side covered a small portion. He spied the junior year chemistry book, but it’s pages were clean and lined up with no spaces between. A bed in the corner was neatly drawn up with a blue duvet and several jackets were draped over the back of a tall, brown desk chair.
“Do you want tea?”
Seiji shifted his gaze back again. Natori’s eyes were focused entirely on him. “If it’s no trouble.”
“Why would it be trouble,” Natori grumbled again. He disappeared out of the room, door sliding shut behind him and Seiji was suddenly left with the quiet.
He didn’t really want to be sitting.
When Natori returned, he had slid open the door to the porch and was looking south toward the heavy sunlight tangling in the garden. Roses budded along a fence line and tall grasses settled in the spots where other plants had yet to catch up. Summertime would be well underway in the next several weeks.
He craned his neck, feeling, “...You fixed the wards,” he said. Surprised.
Natori poured tea and then sat back on his heels, expression unreadable. He drew the sheaf of papers on the table close, the business he’d been privy to suddenly new and interesting again. 10000 yen reward for capture of-- “They must be solid for you to say that. Don’t strain yourself with dishonesty.”
“Not at all.” Knowing the preening that would ensue, he offered, not unkindly, “They’re cleanly crafted.”
Natori looked at him, squinted into the harsh afternoon light and said no more.
