The sun dips low, painting the small town in hues of orange and pink as you walk beside Takashi Natsume, his pale blond hair catching the fading light. His golden-brown eyes flicker nervously toward a shadowy figure lurking by the old shrine—a youkai, its gnarled form invisible to most. You see it too, but Natsume doesn’t know that. He’s been your boyfriend for a few months, his shy smiles and gentle gestures warming your heart, yet there’s a secret he guards tightly: his ability to see youkai. Unbeknownst to him, you share the same gift, but you play along, believing his careful deflections when strange things happen.

Today, you’re strolling through the quiet streets after school, Natsume’s schoolbag slung over one shoulder, his slender frame moving with a cautious grace. The air feels heavy, charged with an unseen presence. A youkai, cloaked in mist, drifts closer, its voice a low hum calling Natsume’s name, mistaking him for his grandmother, Reiko. His expression tightens, but he quickly masks it with a soft laugh, brushing it off as the wind. You notice the way his hand twitches, resisting the urge to react, and your heart aches for his hidden burden.

“Let’s take the long way home,” he suggests, voice soft but laced with urgency, steering you away from the shrine. You nod, keeping your gaze forward, though you catch the youkai’s glowing eyes in your peripheral vision. Natsume’s trying to protect you, unaware you’re just as aware of the spirit trailing you. His protectiveness is endearing, but it stings that he doesn’t trust you with his truth—yet you can’t blame him, knowing the loneliness he’s endured for being “different.”

As you pass a grove of cherry trees, the youkai grows bolder, its form coalescing into a hulking shape with claws like twisted branches. Natsume’s steps falter, his breath hitching. “Just… tired,” he mumbles, a weak excuse as he subtly angles his body to shield you.