FF100 - 033.
Hey peeps, I'M BACK. 8D One more drabble for the count, and I have more coming--but in the past couple of weeks, I've realized one hundred is...er, well A LOT of fics. And while I have ideas floating around and couple more drabbles/ficlets actually typed out (just waiting for me to get tired of editing them), I could use some help with inspiration. So...I'm officially asking for any requests from you guys, whether it be a pairing or a cameo of a character you really love; help me out here, guys! I love a challenge, and sometimes it's just what I need to get my creative juices churning. YES. Okay.
Title: Too Much
Fandom: Natsume Yuujinchou
Characters: Natsume, Nyanko, Natori
Prompt: 033. Too much
Word Count: 703
Rating: PG
Summary: Too much has consequences.
Author's Note: A little longer one for the count. :3 And I hope I got Natori's name-calling habits right, I couldn't remember if he uses a suffix with Natsume's name or not. But I don't think it's that big of a deal, so whatever.
033. Too Much
Blood splatters on green grass shining in the moonlight. Natsume yelps loudly when he hits the tree with a resounding thud, grimacing tightly and gripping his right shoulder and arm with white knuckles. He slides down the trunk and groans.
“Natsume!”
There’s a loud, vicious snarl, and then some more shouting. Natsume rouses himself from the ground just in time to see a massive hide of white, musky fur block his view, and then a bright, blinding flash throws the night into proxy daylight. Natsume shoots upright when he realizes what is happening.
“NO!” he screams, attempting to climb weakly over Madara’s back. But it’s already too late. His cry echoes against the forest as the light fades gently back into night’s darkness. Natsume sees spots, and blinks furiously to try and see past them. He ignores the tears beginning to sting the edges of his eyes, knowing already there’s nothing to see anyway. “No…”
All is silent. The meadow is completely empty now. A night breeze whispers against the leaves and blades of grass.
Madara rumbles gently and twists his neck to see the boy leaning heavily on him.
“…Natsume?” he growls softly.
Natsume ignores him, just continues staring at the empty meadow.
Empty.
“Natsume!”
Twigs snap and grass rustles as Natori stumbles over to Natsume’s side, youkai cronies not far behind. His face is pinched and worried. The salamander scrambles across his forehead and then his cheek, almost frantically darting as opposed to its usual creeping, sudden crawls. “Natsume! Natsume!”
He’s about to reach for Natsume’s motionless form, when his hands are suddenly slapped away. Natsume’s eyes finally tear away from the empty meadow, and focus angrily on Natori. He almost takes a step back at the cold fury in that gaze. Almost.
“Why?!” Natsume snaps, lowly and angrier than Natori has ever heard him. Natsume pushes himself away from Madara, who eyes Natsume’s shaking body carefully. “Why did you do that?! How could you-?!”
Now Natori’s eyes are steely. “Natsume. Look. At. Your. Arm.”
Natsume refuses to, although he can feel the warm wetness sliding down his arm in a frighteningly continuous flow, and that metallic scent in the air is making him sick-and he can’t feel the tips of his fingers. His left hand clenches tighter around what it can cover of his wound. He sways on his feet slightly. He tries to stay angry, but-but-
“I know, but…”
He sways more violently this time. There’s a sharp pain in his back, and then an ache. The world feels like it’s spinning slightly…
“Natsume!”
--
When Natsume comes to, it’s only been a couple minutes. He’s been sat up against the same tree he was slammed into earlier, and Natori is working on bandaging Natsume’s wound. He somehow managed to get a hold of a first aid kit of sorts, according to the antiseptic smell in the air. Madara sits near, his yellow eyes focused sharply on Natsume, unreadable.
“…She was listening to me,” Natsume suddenly croaks out. His throat is dry, and the night air causes goosebumps to rise on his bared flesh. “I could feel her fighting against it, she-she was-”
“Natsume.” Natori’s tone is brisk and firm, somewhere halfway between a reprimand and a simple interruption. “The curse had finally overwhelmed her the minute she injured you. I know that. You know that.”
Silence.
“And it was her wish; to let it end. She told us herself. Told you herself.”
Natsume finally looks at Natori. Natori looks at Natsume. Sees so much there, so much he’d rather not face, questions he doesn’t have the answers to. Too much. Too much regret.
Too much compassion.
“…Don’t talk anymore. You’ve lost a good amount of blood.”
Natsume frowns, but doesn’t say anything. There are rings under his eyes. His face is frighteningly pale.
Madara heavily rises, and disappears in a sea of smoke. Nyanko wanders out, jumping up and settling on Natsume’s good shoulder. “Natsume. You need rest.”
And with that, everyone rises to make the short trek out of the forest. Natori helps Natsume stand, muttering something. “What?” Natsume mumbles blearily in response.
“…Touko-san is going to kill me.”
--
My LDT.
Title: Too Much
Fandom: Natsume Yuujinchou
Characters: Natsume, Nyanko, Natori
Prompt: 033. Too much
Word Count: 703
Rating: PG
Summary: Too much has consequences.
Author's Note: A little longer one for the count. :3 And I hope I got Natori's name-calling habits right, I couldn't remember if he uses a suffix with Natsume's name or not. But I don't think it's that big of a deal, so whatever.
033. Too Much
Blood splatters on green grass shining in the moonlight. Natsume yelps loudly when he hits the tree with a resounding thud, grimacing tightly and gripping his right shoulder and arm with white knuckles. He slides down the trunk and groans.
“Natsume!”
There’s a loud, vicious snarl, and then some more shouting. Natsume rouses himself from the ground just in time to see a massive hide of white, musky fur block his view, and then a bright, blinding flash throws the night into proxy daylight. Natsume shoots upright when he realizes what is happening.
“NO!” he screams, attempting to climb weakly over Madara’s back. But it’s already too late. His cry echoes against the forest as the light fades gently back into night’s darkness. Natsume sees spots, and blinks furiously to try and see past them. He ignores the tears beginning to sting the edges of his eyes, knowing already there’s nothing to see anyway. “No…”
All is silent. The meadow is completely empty now. A night breeze whispers against the leaves and blades of grass.
Madara rumbles gently and twists his neck to see the boy leaning heavily on him.
“…Natsume?” he growls softly.
Natsume ignores him, just continues staring at the empty meadow.
Empty.
“Natsume!”
Twigs snap and grass rustles as Natori stumbles over to Natsume’s side, youkai cronies not far behind. His face is pinched and worried. The salamander scrambles across his forehead and then his cheek, almost frantically darting as opposed to its usual creeping, sudden crawls. “Natsume! Natsume!”
He’s about to reach for Natsume’s motionless form, when his hands are suddenly slapped away. Natsume’s eyes finally tear away from the empty meadow, and focus angrily on Natori. He almost takes a step back at the cold fury in that gaze. Almost.
“Why?!” Natsume snaps, lowly and angrier than Natori has ever heard him. Natsume pushes himself away from Madara, who eyes Natsume’s shaking body carefully. “Why did you do that?! How could you-?!”
Now Natori’s eyes are steely. “Natsume. Look. At. Your. Arm.”
Natsume refuses to, although he can feel the warm wetness sliding down his arm in a frighteningly continuous flow, and that metallic scent in the air is making him sick-and he can’t feel the tips of his fingers. His left hand clenches tighter around what it can cover of his wound. He sways on his feet slightly. He tries to stay angry, but-but-
“I know, but…”
He sways more violently this time. There’s a sharp pain in his back, and then an ache. The world feels like it’s spinning slightly…
“Natsume!”
--
When Natsume comes to, it’s only been a couple minutes. He’s been sat up against the same tree he was slammed into earlier, and Natori is working on bandaging Natsume’s wound. He somehow managed to get a hold of a first aid kit of sorts, according to the antiseptic smell in the air. Madara sits near, his yellow eyes focused sharply on Natsume, unreadable.
“…She was listening to me,” Natsume suddenly croaks out. His throat is dry, and the night air causes goosebumps to rise on his bared flesh. “I could feel her fighting against it, she-she was-”
“Natsume.” Natori’s tone is brisk and firm, somewhere halfway between a reprimand and a simple interruption. “The curse had finally overwhelmed her the minute she injured you. I know that. You know that.”
Silence.
“And it was her wish; to let it end. She told us herself. Told you herself.”
Natsume finally looks at Natori. Natori looks at Natsume. Sees so much there, so much he’d rather not face, questions he doesn’t have the answers to. Too much. Too much regret.
Too much compassion.
“…Don’t talk anymore. You’ve lost a good amount of blood.”
Natsume frowns, but doesn’t say anything. There are rings under his eyes. His face is frighteningly pale.
Madara heavily rises, and disappears in a sea of smoke. Nyanko wanders out, jumping up and settling on Natsume’s good shoulder. “Natsume. You need rest.”
And with that, everyone rises to make the short trek out of the forest. Natori helps Natsume stand, muttering something. “What?” Natsume mumbles blearily in response.
“…Touko-san is going to kill me.”
--
My LDT.