Archive of Our Own

Hinoe hiccuped and said, "That's delicious," an unnecessary statement because she'd been drinking the sparkling sake for the past hour and had already said so at least five times. "How does -- "

" -- humanity make things that taste so good, I know, I know," Natsume sighed. He didn't understand how Touko and Shigeru didn't hear all the noise when the youkai camped out in his room drinking. Perhaps they were so spiritually insensitive that youkai voices didn't even register. But the thumps as the chuukyuu fell over or Hinoe knocked a bottle off the table couldn't be ignored, could they?

The revelry had begun with the chuukyuu, Chobihige, Nyanko-sensei, and Hinoe, as usual. But everyone else had since stormed off to Yatsuhara, to Natsume's disgust.

"Ahhhh, the sake's running out," Nyanko-sensei had said mournfully, turning over a bottle bigger than he was and shaking the last drops onto the floor to prove it.

"Hey! You're getting the floor wet!" Natsume had objected.

"If only we had one of those magical springs of sake in this house." There'd been a tremendous belch from Nyanko-sensei as he rolled onto his back.

"I know someone who drank from one of those!" one of the chuukyuu, the cyclops, had said.

"If they had that at Yatsuhara..." his counterpart had trailed off, bobbing his head.

Nyanko-sensei, snapping himself upright with surprising agility, had shouted, "At Yatsuhara? Then what are we doing here? Let's go!"

"Madara-sama says there's one of those sake fountains at Yatsuhara!" The cyclops had pounded the floor in glee.

Chobihige had gasped, "How did we never notice this splendidness before? We must remedy this immediately!"

Hinoe, however, had remained sprawled on the floor, hand fanning her face, saying, "Enjoy the sake without me." Once they'd clambered through the window -- Natsume had been afraid they would break it -- she mumbled, "I'm feeling too melancholy tonight for that." Grabbing another bottle, she downed half of it in one noisy glug.

Natsume rubbed his eyes and resigned himself to drunken youkai babysitting duty. Maybe, because it was just Hinoe, he could do something else and just keep one eye on her. She'd be too loud for him to do any homework, though.

"Don't you want to know why I'm so sad today, Natsume?" Hinoe asked, swinging her head unsteadily around to look at him. For the first time, he saw something in her eyes that made her look as old as he knew she must be. How it would feel, to go on and on and on, even if those you loved were gone? How many meetings and partings had she seen?

Natsume said carefully, "You could tell me if you wanted, Hinoe. If it would make you feel better." He shifted against the wall, crossing his legs, and hoped he didn't sound impatient.

She sucked her teeth. "What could make me feel better? What would you know, idiot boy?" She wiped at her eye and said, "Today was the last day I ever saw Reiko. Years ago, of course." She took another swig from the bottle -- still the sparkling sake, her new favorite -- and set it down next to her. "She said today was important because it was the day she was born. I asked her how she knew. How could she remember exactly what day? There are so many days. She told me she was born when it was getting cold. And that year there was a full moon that day. I could remember that, but how could she know the exact day?" She sniffed. Pulling a gigantic handkerchief from her sleeve, she blew her nose with a honk. "She promised me it was today."

Natsume held his breath and tried to keep absolutely still.

"And I wanted to remember it, after that." Hinoe wiped her nose, letting the handkerchief drop to the floor and using her sleeve instead. Natsume stifled a wince. "I made her write it down for me. In your stupid numbers."

There was silence for a minute.

"She said it was important because then she knew she'd lasted another year. Despite what some people hoped. That was what she said." Hiccuping again, and grabbing messily for the sake, she added, "Who cares about years? I can't remember any more how many years I've seen. What happened today, what happened yesterday?"

Natsume's foot was falling asleep. He tried to be quiet as he moved it, but the scrape of fabric across the floor attracted Hinoe's attention. She whipped her head up to glare at him, eyes red.

"I got her to write it down for me," she repeated. "Not that I could understand your stupid calendars then. And the next day -- " She took a shuddering breath. "The next day she was gone. She'd left. I looked in her house, but everything was gone. All her clothes. The book." Another trembling inhale. "And I never saw her again."

"So... today is Reiko-san's birthday?"

"Yes!" Hinoe shouted. She pointed to the calendar on Natsume's desk; he'd only this morning changed the page to the new month. "For all that means." She thumped the bottle to the floor. "I still don't understand."

"Me neither, Hinoe," Natsume said. "But thank you." He smiled. "For telling me about my grandmother. Maybe someday you could tell me some more."

Hinoe scowled. "How can you look so much like Reiko and not be her? I'm not telling you anything!" She pushed her way to a standing position. She burped, then pushed some of her hair out of her face and adjusted her hairpin. "Good night," she said crisply. It was marred by the gentle way she was swaying, but she climbed out of the window without incident.

Natsume went to the sill to peek down after her, but she was already gone, the street as quiet as if she'd never been there. Instead he turned his head upwards, to the sky crowded with stars. He closed his eyes. "Happy birthday, grandmother," he whispered.