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Well. That's diligent of them. [The look Natori gives him is less questioning than it is cautiously tired; if Tenkohime's methods are any comparison, he's sure there was some nonsense going on.

In any case, he watches Matoba bundle up his skewers as he fiddles with the stem of his flower, ultimately tucking it in his obi so that the head is still visible. If it hadn't been for the photo, Natori would have sworn the cat was just some excuse Matoba came up with to see the festival. (Cats like fish, right? he asks, failing to keep a straight face as he points to a goldfish scooping game.) He keeps his hands tucked into the opposite sleeves of his yukata, and enjoys himself despite himself. It's been a while since he could just wander around a festival like this, not worrying about any of the ayakashi around them.

He nibbles at some grilled corn and watches Matoba watch the crowd.]

[Work that had to be done had to be done, if you were alive, Matoba insisted, making it ever clearer just why he was part of the Alliance. Their dinner goes by with similar matter-of-fact chatter, and when they're roaming the aisles of the festival in search of a cat they may or may not even still be present, it continues.]

[Matoba stops to watch the goldfish game with undue seriousness at Natori's suggestion, but decides that a live goldfish wasn't as interesting as some prepared food. He makes this declaration with the same seriousness as he had addressed Natori's teasing about the bakeneko with.]

[If he's self aware about it, he's never shown it. Not then, not now.]

[The night wears on and he seems to eventually, somewhat dejectedly, admit that they are probably not going to find the cat again. But by then they have already been walking about for long enough to forget mostly about it, and Matoba ends up stooping to leave the skewers for a small circle of bakeneko by the Tamamo stalls instead, waving and cooing to them and embarrassing Natori in front of his senpais, the cats.]

At least there are no fireworks to hide an assassination behind, this time, [Matoba dryly remarks as they stand shoulder to shoulder on the edges of the crowds, bathed in the dark glow of lanterns as the Daitengu makes their announcement of the truce. They're standing close and his head is cocked, near-tilted to Natori's shoulder.]

[Natori does his best to be looking elsewhere as Matoba drops off his leftovers and makes baby talk at his senpais. (I don't know her dot gif) But aside from that, it's... It's nice. It's a nice night, and a nice end to the festival. He snorts at Matoba's comment, digging his elbow into Matoba's side.]

Don't jinx it. With their luck they'll get hit by a big chunk of falling stardust. [He's keeping his voice low, and therefore the only option is to lean in to mutter into Matoba's ear. A perfectly innocent and normal thing to do. He doesn't straighten up again. The sideways glance accompanying his smirk lingers longer than the sarcastic aside as well; he watches Matoba out of the corner of his eye instead of looking up at the stage.

He's very aware of the flower in his obi. He feels flushed in that carefree way of boyish summer nights, after just a few hours of them getting to ignore everything else that was going on in favor of a wild goose chase around the festival. After a moment of his heart pounding in his ears, his right hand casually slips into Matoba's left where they both hang at their sides, hidden by their yukata from a crowd that isn't watching them anyway.]

Edited (I'm shallow I just used that icon) 2022-07-20 03:11 (UTC)

Please, do not tempt fate.

[Matoba grumbles. The last thing he needs to deal with tonight is another all-nighter of politics, half covered in blood, and another ruined yukata. In fact, he was going to strangle Ryouma if this led to another assassination. He's deciding it. He'll just take power his damn self.]

[...While he's distracted in his worse-case-scenario power fantasies, he doesn't even notice how close Natori is until he feels the brush against his hand, and then the warmth of fingers interlocking. Blinking once, his head turns- Natori is on his left, as is customary, so it hardly takes much for their eyes to meet, his own lightly baffled.]

[How long has it been since he saw such an open gaze from him? Long enough he can barely remember, he thinks, but he's too distracted to put the thought into it. He can feel the other man's breath against his bottom lip, and his own almost quivers.]

CAW CAW

[The shiver of panic over the crowd as the Tengu familiars swoop in at the Daitengu's closing remarks breaks the glow of the moment and Matoba's hand breaks free from Natori's with the same smooth movement which he uses to draw an ofuda from his sleeve, guard raised with the hairs on the back of his neck. It takes a moment to take in the situation, but after immediately turning his gaze on the Daitengu- who looks perhaps troubled, but not alarmed- his eye narrows.]

--I suppose Sakamoto-san did mention there would be detractors, [He mutters under his breath, and slaps one crow away who dares to go for his hair pin.] Ours.

[Matoba doesn't pull away. When their eyes connect, the look in Matoba's sole visible one isn't a rejection. They always have to take steps this way, both of them inching along a little further until they're both in deep enough that they can close their eyes and let it happen. Matoba is close enough that Natori can still smell the hint of yakitori lingering after a few hours of carrying them around the festival. He's filled with a sudden inexplicable fondness, one that makes him smile before he takes that last small step to bring them back together.

And then some ayakashi ruin it. Natori reacts as instinctively as Matoba does, breaking away from Matoba to give them both room to maneuver.] --Magpies? Really? [For Tanabata??? This is what's interrupting them from--

He stuffs his hand into his own sleeve for his paper dolls with more force than is really necessary, then tosses them into the air around him. He knows without having to say anything that Matoba is going to have to break off and do crowd control, knows that even if he weren't a lieutenant the brief moment they had was broken, but he doesn't want to be the first one to step away. It's silly and childish of him, and a stupid thing to be thinking in the middle of this crowd, even if the birds seem more focused on being nuisances than causing any actual danger. But still.]

[The bird Matoba swipes next with an ofuda dissipates and loses its form with a wavering, pathetic squawk, and flutters about as a spirit orb before floating back off in the direction of its master, or so Matoba supposes. He watches it with a sharper eye and a bit more bloodlust than is strictly necessary for such a weak thing.]

[Honestly.]

... Your dolls should be able to distract them. For the time being; I must fetch orders from my boss. [He sighs in deeply through his nose; he's all back to cold and clinical, not a trace remaining of the playful, troublesome imp that was Seiji. But he still looks back to Natori as he steps away and smirks, perhaps a glint of fondness remaining in his eye.]

Don't get pecked. No glasses to shield you, hm?

Mm, [Natori agrees succinctly, eyeing what he can see of the Daitengu through the crowd. This wasn't a deadly attack, but it was still something that needed to be handled. It was equally something that Natori didn't need to worry about. Wasn't that just the way they always went: Matoba had his responsibilities to his clan, and Natori was free to waiver on his own, to commit or cut out as he pleased.

The dolls swirl in front of him, keeping the birds away, but he's able to still roll his eyes at Matoba's parting words. Still fond despite himself.] Go tell that to your boss.

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