A/N: A story inspired by symgen's headcanon from tumblr and incorporated it into some of the ideas proposed in the series. Though in the end, maybe it's not really what the original headcanon had in mind ^^;; Also borrowed a quote from another series (Cross Game-one of my favorite slice of life/romance anime and for those who have seen it, I think you will know which line I'm talking about :D)

Thanks for reading^^ Comments and reviews are much appreciated, thanks!

"Sensei! Sensei!"

Nyanko-sensei's ears twitched.

"Wake up, Sensei!"

"Shutup…" Nyanko-sensei mumbled incomprehensibly. His ears hurt. His head hurt. He had stayed up so late last night and drunk countless bottles of sake that he had just stumbled back into Natsume's room just as the sun hit the horizon.

"Sensei!"

A poke to his stomach that sent his irritation ricocheting.

"Shut up, Natsu—!"

Bright glaring light blinded his eyes as Madara opened his eyes and was ready to bite anyone who was poking and poking and poking his stomach. The shock at the sudden light caused him to shut his eyes again and it wasn't Natsume but the middle-class youkai who were screaming as they fled and it was Hinoe's voice calling his name incessantly.

"Madara! Finally!" The blue-haired youkai drew a deep sigh of relief. "Took you long enough."

Madara's eyes squinted against the light and he remembered where he was: a clearing in the middle of the mountain with a chill in the air and dead autumn leaves scattered throughout the forest floor. Him in his youkai form—a majestic white beast.

Natsume's warm tatami mat room, the kid's annoying voice…

A dream?

"Hellooo! Madara?" Hinoe called again, waving her hands high above her head to catch his attention. "Are you with us?"

Madara huffed irritably. "You just ruined a perfectly good nap," he growled, his deep voice rumbling from deep within his throat. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to remind you of the festival at the mountaintop lake. Are you coming?"

The festival…

Madara huffed. "I'll pass," he said as he lay his head down again, eyes half-closing for another nap.

"But, Madara-sama!" the one-eyed middle-class youkai piped in, poking his head from behind a tree. "It's a once-in-a-hundred-year festival. You can't miss it!"

Hinoe nodded her head. "The moon will be nearest to the earth tonight." A slight smirk gracing her lips, she added, "And the entire lake will turn into sake for the whole night."

Madara's ears twitched again.

The smirk had turned to a full-on grin. "Are you sure you want to miss it?"

~ O ~

Madara ended up coming. Curse that Hinoe for mentioning sake.

By the time he reached the lake at the top of the mountain, the clearing was already filled with youkai. Lesser youkai. Powerful youkai. A mingle of scents and merry voices you'd only hear in a festival such as this.

It didn't take long for him to spot Hinoe, with the middle-class youkai. And there were Misuzu, and Benio, and Chobi-hige, and a lot more of the lesser youkai gathering in a circle. A familiar banner stopped him on his tracks. The Dog Club.

The middle-class spotted him among the revelry and waved him over.

"What took you so long, Madara?" Hinoe said, though she didn't sound the least bit irritable. There was a cup on her hand, half-full, and more bottles scattered throughout the circle.

"Here, Madara-sama," one of the lesser youkai piped in, closer to the ground. It pushed a large bowl to his feet, filled with no doubt the sake from the bottles.

"I thought we are all here to drink the once-in-a-hundred-year sake lake," Madara commented.

"The moon has not yet reached its peak, Madara," Misuzu said, lapping the alcohol from his own bowl. "The festival has not yet begun."

He knew that of course. He just needed to say something. Because no one said anything about the Dog Club gathering.

The Dog Club.

As Madara crouched down and lapped up the sake into his mouth, his mind brought him back to years ago. A similar situation. A similar scenery. The same faces and the same voices. Chatters and laughter and shouts as everyone tried to have the best time of their life, making sure that Natsume felt at ease with them around.

Humans' lives were a fleeting thing. Beautiful like a flower blooming in spring yet so transient it was gone just as you were starting to enjoy its presence. Ephemeral in a youkai's immortal life.

None of them would admit it. He wouldn't admit it. That ever since Natsume passed away, that light that had been their source of joy and entertainment left a gaping void in their wake.

~ O ~

The moon reached its peak and all the youkai gathered there rushed to the edge of the lake. Madara only took several leaps to reach the lakeshore and as he watched the moonlight hit the water, it sparkled. One lap down his throat sent his entire body shuddering with delight at the best-tasting sake he ever had.

~ O ~

They had their fill and filled the now-empty sake bottles with sake from the lake. Merriment ensued. Dancing and singing and riddles. The sake from the lake was getting to him and Madara couldn't help but join in the merriment.

It was toxic—their euphoria—and it was only a matter of time before Madara forgot his troubles. Well, it wasn't so much of a trouble and more of an uncomfortable feeling you get when something felt amiss yet you can't put your paw in it. And it had been bugging him for days and weeks.

The middle-class youkai pair slumped on the ground, heaving deep sighs after ten rounds of dancing and singing in the middle of their group. Silence fell. Half-lidded eyes and content smiles all around. The moon had moved way past its zenith by now and the all-around revelry was beginning to fade away. But their group stayed, quiet, lost in their own thoughts.

"How long has it been?" It was Hinoe who first broke the eternal silence.

"It'll be ten years tomorrow." Misuzu—deep voice from that horse-like face, but despite having laughed the loudest, his voice carried a melancholy tone as he responded Hinoe's question.

"Ten years," Hinoe mused. A distant look in her eyes as she smiled wistfully. "It feels longer than that."

"It feels like it was just yesterday we were playing with him," the middle-class youkai added. "Remember that time the two of us—" he nudged his companion, "—took him to see those flowers and he came down with a cold the next day?"

His companion's eager nod was incoherent in his drunken state.

Hinoe barked a laughter. "Madara was so mad at both of you because of that!"

"I think we were more of a trouble for him than we realized," Chobi-hige added with a chuckle.

"But Natsume-sama still helped us a lot," Kappa piped in.

Heads nodded.

"Natsume-dono was a good human," Misuzu said.

"A toast for Natsume-sama," the middle-class youkai said, jumping to his feet, raising his cup.

"May he rest in peace wherever he resides," Hinoe added, bringing her own glass to the sky.

The others followed. A solemn silence washed over them. They all faced the setting moon and it struck him then. They had laughed and joked around so much, it was as if every one of them had been pouring their hearts out to the moon, the stars, the sky, the earth itself. Wherever Natsume was now.

"Madara-sama!" the middle-class youkai suddenly broke the serenity. "Won't you transform back to your lucky cat form?"

Madara blinked in surprise. "Do you want me to eat you, middle-class?" Madara growled.

"Oh, come now! I think we all miss your midget tanuki form," Hinoe added, stifling a laugh.

"And that belly dance he does every time he got drunk," chimed Misuzu.

They laughed and it was as though their reminiscence hadn't happened. They chanted his name and all he wanted was to squash everyone.

Maybe he should.

He rose from his crouch, brought his form towering over everyone but Misuzu, and everyone cheered—

—until the glare he gave them sent them trembling in cold sweat.

"You have a death wish, I see." He smirked down at them and landed his massive paw down.

~ O ~

"Are you going to see him tomorrow?" Hinoe asked him when everyone had parted ways.

Madara huffed but didn't offer an answer.

"You haven't gone to see him yet, have you?"

"Have you?" Madara asked back.

"I have." Hinoe smiled.

Madara scoffed. "Attachment is a foolish thing, more so are attachments to things that are no more."

"Things are not truly dead if you don't forget about them," Hinoe said gently. Hinoe stopped on her tracks, a wistful smile caressing her lips. "If I knew where Reiko is buried, I would go see her everyday."

That made Madara pause. He looked back at her and it was a rare sight to see sorrow etching the lines of Hinoe's face. "Go see him," she said to him with a smile. "His spirit still lingers."

~ O ~

Madara tried to convince himself that it wasn't because Hinoe had coaxed him into going that he was now finding himself flying over mountains and forests to a hill near the old neighborhood where Natsume used to live. And it wasn't anticipation and longing that he felt cursing through his body. He tried to convince himself that he was only taking a stroll to help him recover from his hungover from the night before.

But then he saw the flower field, and the hill beyond. A massive tree sat on the hilltop, paper and ropes strewn about to create a magical seal. Natsume had been sought after by so many youkai some people had decided to lay him to rest in a place with strong spiritual power surrounded by a strong seal. Not everyone could enter. Not many youkai could approach.

He spotted two figure down by the graveyard. An old man and woman.

The Fujiwaras?

No. These people weren't the Fujiwaras.

The old woman bent down and laid down a bouquet of white flowers. Then they spoke and it was then that Madara recognized who they were.

He landed just at the edge of the magical seal right as the pair stepped through the gate. A slight shift of air that not many would notice but the old man immediately stopped. He turned his face toward Madara and squinted his eyes.

Even in his fifty-some years, Tanuma hadn't changed. Nor did Taki, the woman beside him.

"Kaname-kun?" Taki turned to her companion. "Something wrong?"

"I felt something," Tanuma murmured.

Madara stayed still.

"Ponta?"

"What?!"

Madara's eyes widened slightly, then his lips stretched in a smirk. So the boy was still able to sense his kind. And Taki, the obnoxious girl that couldn't get her hands off him. Even with her greying hair and wrinkling face, she still acted like she was sixteen. Whipping her head left and right trying to see him.

"I'm not sure though," Tanuma went on. "Taki, do you remember that circle you used to draw?"

"Ah!" Taki exclaimed, fists pumping.

Wait! Madara's eyes grew wider in panic.

"Let's look for a stick."

Idiot! He wanted to scream as both Tanuma and Taki spread out. Madara sighed. Why were things still the same?

Taki found a stick not long after and Tanuma found a space of dirt a bit far from the magic seal. She drew the circle wide and Madara waited, eyeing them skeptically, half waiting if something else might show up, just to let them have their lesson again.

Taki finished the circle, and both she and Tanuma stood, waiting, looking this way and that. But of course nothing showed up. He was the only youkai there.

"Maybe I was wrong," Tanuma mused.

"No! Let's wait for a while longer, okay?"

Taki was being insistent and there was nothing Tanuma could say to discourage her. But still Madara didn't move.

They waited long. Longer than Madara would have thought. And maybe because he pitied them, but Madara rose from his haunches and took one step at a time. Tanuma was saying they should get back before it got dark and Taki was trying to shush him when Madara's paw entered the circle.

Both of them gasped.

Madara entered his entire body into the circle. Half of him appreciated Taki for creating such a large circle. He stood, towering over them they had to crane their necks just to look at his face.

"Nyanko-sensei?"

It was Taki. Breathless. And the name sent a pang through him. He hadn't heard it since the day Natsume passed.

"Is it really you?" Taki again.

It occurred to him again that they hadn't seen him in his true form.

He looked down on them. What could he say? He was never particularly close with them.

"Foolish girl!" His mouth moved on its own. "Haven't you learned your lesson? Drawing the circle on a whim. What if another dangerous youkai had appeared instead of me?"

"But you would have saved us, wouldn't you, Po—sensei?" Tanuma said. He was smiling and… those were tears in his eyes. "Sorry, I guess calling you Ponta wouldn't suit you now."

"Hmph! It never suited me."

"Sensei!"

"Oof!"

Taki had gone and entered the circle, arms spread wide, hugging his body. Madara stiffered. The hug—it was…different than her usual hug. Maybe he wasn't so small now that she could strangle him to death. But the strength in her arms was still a force to be reckoned with as she buried her face in his fur.

"We missed you, sensei."

And she was crying. And Tanuma was crying. And in half of his mind, it wasn't Taki but Natsume who was holding onto him as he had been the only human whom Madara had allowed to touch him in his true form.

He sighed. "Didn't befriending Natsume ever teach you not to play with our world?"

But they didn't stop, because they missed him, and they missed Natsume.

Madara waited patiently until Taki let him go herself and went back outside the circle.

"Do you ever go back to being a cat, sensei?" Taki asked him.

An innocent question, but one that brought his mind back. Years and years ago when they were still students and he was riding on Natsume's shoulder or being carried around in Tanuma's arms or surviving Taki's death grip.

"No," was all he said, and the quiet in his voice said it all.

They bid him goodbye. He stepped out of the circle and it was a moment later before they erased it. He watched them as they turned and followed the path down the hill back to the town.

The sun had gone way past its zenith now and everything was awash in an orange light.

That was when he heard it, a voice so soft one could miss it, but he caught it riding with the wind.

Sensei…

A familiar voice he knew so well. One he had heard every single day for years until death took him away.

And Madara turned.

And there he was, standing just over his gravestone. His appearance, the warm smile on his face—he was just like that day they parted ten years ago.

And Madara was bounding over the grass before he knew it, up the hill, and in a burst of cloud and smoke, the great majestic white beast was gone and in its place was a fat calico cat.

"Natsume!"

In his cat form, he could easily go past all the strong magic seals, and in one movement, he leaped into Natsume's open arms.

~ O ~

"Hinoe said your spirit lingers. I only wanted to see if she was right."

Natsume chuckled.

Nyanko-sensei frowned. "Fool! Why are you still here? This is no place for your kind."

"I wanted to see you, sensei. At least one more time," Natsume replied. "That's why I stayed."

Nyanko-sensei's scowl deepened, and he looked away. "I—Idiot," he muttered.

Natsume laughed. "Oh, and I wanted to give you the Book."

"What?"

That brought Nyanko-sensei's attention back and he watched as Natsume fished the book from somewhere behind him. The Book of Friends. It was said the Book was lost ten years ago. No one could find it. And all this time…

"As promised."

Promise. That long-ago promise they'd made.

"Will you protect it?"

He had always said he would use the book however he wanted, but somewhere along the way, his priorities had shifted and all he cared about was protecting Natsume and hence protecting the Book.

"I will."

"You'll make sure it won't fall into the wrong hands?"

Nyanko-sensei nodded. Another promise.

Natsume smiled. "Thank you."

He patted Sensei's head, gently, and Nyanko-sensei hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. Something stirred inside him, pulling, squeezing.

Natsume once asked him if Nyanko-sensei would ever get attached to him. He never answered him. Never even let his mind go near it. Because attachment was a human thing and in the wake of their immortality, it was foolish to cling onto something that would, sooner or later, disappear.

"Thank you for always being there for me, Sensei," Natsume said.

And Nyanko-sensei could hear the unsaid words, the things neither of them ever admitted. That he was a friend, always had been, always would be. And there was an unbreakable bond between them that no one could define.

The air moved and the wind blew. Nyanko-sensei watched as the edges of Natsume's body transformed into light and petals, pure and white. The last of his touch was a gentle caress and his smile lingered a second longer before the wind took him away.

Nyanko-sensei sat on the graveyard alone with only the Book as his companion.

Hinoe had said things wouldn't die as long as they didn't forget about them.

Thank you…

A whisper of a voice reached his ears, even though the wind had died and the petals were nowhere to be seen.

And Nyanko-sensei believed that Natsume would never die as long as he lived in his memories.

Attachment was a foolish thing.

But maybe, it wasn't such a bad thing.

~ END ~