Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At his Aunt Satomi’s countryside inn, Tanuma lays out two futons next to one another in the guest room he and Natsume are sharing, taking extra care to make one of them look as comfortable and presentable as possible. With great focus, he tucks the fitted sheet evenly over the four corners, neatly folds the quilted blanket over it, and fluffs the pillow at the head.

When he feels like he has done a satisfactory job, he sits on his heels at the base of the futon to survey his work. He doesn’t care that his ankles are sore from all the sightseeing they did today. It has been a wonderful though brief vacation, and he’s going to remember everything about it – from the kindness Natsume showed the youkai they met on their hike to the reflection of festival fireworks he saw in Natsume’s eyes – for the rest of his life.

A stray wrinkle in the blanket catches his attention, and he smoothes it out while the fluttery feeling in his heart builds. He loses himself in thoughts of how nice it would be to have the pleasure of setting up a futon every night for the one he cares about so deeply. He would be able to make sure his best friend is always comfortable, always getting enough rest.

Most importantly, he would be able to make sure his best friend always knows his presence is wanted and appreciated.

The door to the guest room slides open, pulling him out of his reverie. In walks a pajama-clad, yawning Natsume with Nyanko-sensei in tow.

Tanuma’s heart flips at the sight of his best friend, casual and unguarded in his presence. Acquiring this much of Natsume’s trust is no simple achievement. To have it is the sweetest gift, one Tanuma will never take for granted. One he will hold dear in his heart forever.

Natsume blinks to alertness and looks over at the futon. Tanuma hopes he did a good enough job setting it up, but he’s second-guessing himself now that Natsume’s eyes are drifting across it.

“Ah, you didn’t have to go through all the trouble of doing that. I would have helped you.”

“It wasn’t any trouble,” Tanuma says, scratching the back of his head on a reflex.

“In any case, thank you.” Natsume kneels down next to the futon laid out for him and runs a hand down the blanket. “It looks really inviting after a full day of activities.”

The smile Natsume gives him is the best thanks of all. It makes Tanuma melt with relief (and maybe a hint of something else).

Nyanko-sensei flops down at the base of Natsume’s futon with an egregious yawn and immediately falls asleep. Tanuma guesses he partied too hard with the other youkai at the festival.

“We should get some rest, too,” he says once he notices the dark circles under his friend’s eyes.

Natsume agrees. He lifts a corner of the blanket up - carefully, so as not to disturb Nyanko-sensei's slumber - and slides into the futon. The futon Tanuma arranged for him.

Doing his best to calm a heart that’s fluttering like the golden leaves floating in the wind this time of year, Tanuma follows suit and curls into his own adjacent futon, pulling the blanket over his neck to combat the chill of autumn seeping in. He tends to be nervous and on alert in the company of others, but here beside Natsume, he feels relaxed, at ease. His shoulders release their tension and his body sinks into the futon. He hopes Natsume feels relaxed, too.

It’s silent in the room save for the rustling of red-tinged trees outside. Tanuma realizes they haven’t bid each other goodnight yet. Is it too late? Will he be waking Natsume up if he says it?

He turns his head slowly in the direction of the neighboring futon and feels heat flush his cheeks when he is met with Natsume’s gaze already on him.

“Ah, sorry!” Natsume says in wide-eyed panic. “I was just remembering the time we helped out at this inn during the autumn festival a few years ago.” His face softens. “It was really nice. I’m grateful you invited me back here.”

Tanuma would gladly invite him back any year, any week, any day. He remembers their last visit well. He thinks about it often, about how happy Ito-san looked when he introduced her to Natsume. Somehow, he got the feeling she could sense that with Natsume, he had finally found someone with whom he could share a deep bond. That had made Ito-san happy, and it made Tanuma happy, too.

As enjoyable as that visit was, however, he is happy this one has passed without any haunting encounters or fevers so far.

“One day, I might be an official employee at this inn,” he finds himself saying quietly into the dark of the room. It has always been a possibility. Aunt Satomi said she would readily give him a job here. “Since there are youkai in the area, I was thinking I could add on a special room just for them.”

Natsume turns fully onto his side and faces Tanuma, looking intrigued. Behind him, Tanuma can see the outline of leaves drifting off the trees outside the screened walls. The backdrop makes Natsume look even more ethereal than usual. “An inn for humans and youkai,” he comments. His voice is whisper-soft. Tanuma wishes he could bottle up the sound of it. “That’s a nice idea.”

“You could visit any time,” Tanuma adds on quickly. “You’d always be welcome here.”

“I’d like that. Maybe we could even – ” Natsume yawns, and then continues quietly, “ – run it together.”

“Together?” Tanuma repeats, but it appears Natsume has fallen asleep.

He tries not to indulge in the idea of running the inn with his dearest friend, but it’s too lovely an idea to let go. He envisions them preparing meals for guests side-by-side in the kitchen, sweeping the autumn leaves off the walkways with elbows occasionally bumping, sitting out on the engawa and watching as the festival lights dance on the nearby mountain…the kinds of quiet activities they crave.

A peaceful life for them, Nyanko-sensei included.

His eyelids grow heavy at the thought. What a nice future that would be.

For now, though, just getting the opportunity to visit the inn with Natsume in the rich beauty of autumn is a great privilege.

Chapter Text

Natsume has never seen Tanuma look so nervous. His eyes are glossed over, his mouth is drawn tight, and his arms are stiff at his sides. Nevertheless, instead of dwelling on it too much, Natsume steps into the entrance of the Fujiwara residence and announces his return.

Touko-san comes rushing over wearing an apron. “Welcome home!” she greets, and then turns to their guest for the evening. “Hello, Tanuma-kun. It’s so nice to see you again.”

Tanuma bows (rigidly, Natsume notes. Like steel trying its hardest to bend). “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.” He sounds sincere, but almost a little robotic, like he rehearsed that sentence many times beforehand.

Touko-san gives him a warm smile. “I’m so glad you could join us for dinner. Please, take off your coats and follow me to the kitchen.”

Tanuma has been to the Fujiwara residence a handful of times, but this is the first time he’s sitting down to dinner with all of them. Natsume wants to tell him the Fujiwaras are nice people he can relax around, but he doesn’t want to embarrass him by drawing attention to how nervous he seems.

Shigeru-san is in the kitchen helping Touko-san arrange the place settings when they enter. “Ah, hello!” he greets with a smile.

Tanuma bows again. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

Natsume thinks if he had recorded both of Tanuma’s greetings and played them back-to-back, they would have sounded identical. He really wishes he could quell whatever is causing Tanuma’s anxiety.

Then he comes to a realization: Tanuma is nervous because he cares. He cares about dining with the Fujiwaras and making a good impression because he knows how important they are to Natsume. As a result, Natsume himself is starting to see this dinner in a different light.

“Please, sit.” Shigeru-san motions to the table and chairs. Natsume and Tanuma follow.

Touko-san’s meals are always delicious and wonderfully presented, but Natsume can tell she went out of her way to make tonight’s dinner even more special. There’s dagojiru soup with dumplings and a plethora of winter vegetables in miso broth, fried lotus roots, rice, and an abundance of shrimp.

Under the table, Natsume can see that Nyanko-sensei already has a shrimp in his mouth. No surprises there.

“I really appreciate this,” Tanuma says as he takes the seat offered to him. “Your cooking looks and smells amazing.”

“Don’t mention it,” Touko-san says kindly. “It’s a joy to be able to have a dear friend of Takashi-kun over for dinner.”

“Very much so,” Shigeru-san adds.

Tanuma’s ears turn red. “Ah. Thank you.”

Once all four of them are seated (with Nyanko-sensei still chewing on his shrimp under the table), they dig in.

“Make sure you eat plenty of the soup,” Touko-san advises. “It will help prevent a winter cold.”

Pleasant conversation fills the room as the dinner progresses. Touko-san and Shigeru-san ask Tanuma questions about what he has been up to since graduating high school, about his and Natsume’s autumn trip to his aunt’s inn, and how his father is doing. The questions are respectful and kind – exactly what one would expect from the Fujiwaras.

Natsume finds himself staring at Tanuma throughout the entire conversation. He has sincere eyes, a shy but honest smile. He gets along so well with the Fujiwaras. Everything he is is everything Natsume could ever ask for in a friend.

He is everything Natsume could ever ask for in a person he would gladly spend the rest of his life with.

Natsume is slowly learning to accept friendship and care from others, and throughout the years they’ve known each other, Tanuma has shown him so much kindness. Tanuma has continued to be his friend long after he has learned so many of the secrets Natsume was terrified to divulge. In fact, Tanuma has always treated their friendship like it was something precious, something to be nurtured.

It’s a big step for Natsume to be able to recognize that. And the feeling is mutual. He cares for Tanuma deeply. He wants to nurture their friendship, too. He wants to be close to Tanuma always, even if that entails overcoming the fear of letting Tanuma into his world more.

“Takashi-kun?”

Natsume snaps out of his flow of thoughts at the sound of Shigeru-san’s voice and realizes everyone at the table (minus Nyanko-sensei, who is too preoccupied with his food) is staring at him.

“Sorry!” he says in a rush. “Can you repeat that?”

“I was wondering what other travels you and Tanuma-kun would like to embark on?” Shigeru-san asks.

“Oh.” Natsume hasn’t thought about future travel plans, but now that it has been brought up, he could picture himself going everywhere with Tanuma. They could view cherry blossoms together at the castle ruins in Fukuoka, maybe go further south and take a ferry to explore the cedar forests in Yakushima, get train tickets and head east to walk the Philosopher’s Path in Kyoto…

“I’m not sure,” he says after some consideration. “I’d be happy to travel anywhere with Tanuma.”

It’s a simple truth, but it seems to jostle his friend. Tanuma almost chokes on his spoonful of soup. After taking a long gulp of water, he replies, “I feel the same way about traveling with Natsume. It’s an honor to spend time with him.”

Now it’s Natsume’s turn to run into trouble swallowing his soup. An honor, he said. ‘Honor’ is a strong word.

At the end of the meal, Tanuma compliments Touko-san on her cooking once more and thanks her for the feast.

“Tanuma-kun,” Touko-san says with shining eyes. “Thank you for being friends with Takashi-kun.”

Natsume feels a flash of heat rise to his cheeks. He tells himself it’s from consuming the warm soup, but deep down, he knows it’s from hearing Touko-san say the word “friends” with the weight of importance. She is as elated about Natsume having a true, caring friend as Natsume himself is.

“Oh,” Tanuma responds quietly. “It’s no trouble. I…I really enjoy being friends with him.” He looks down into his empty soup bowl with a soft expression. “I’m grateful he is in my life.”

Natsume’s heart performs a complicated somersault.

Tanuma chose to be my friend, Natsume thinks to himself. After all this time, he still wants to be close to me.

“Well, we’re grateful you’re in his life,” Shigeru-san states. “I’ve heard our cat has taken a liking to you as well.”

Nyanko-sensei pops his head out from under the table the moment he hears himself come up in conversation.

Tanuma chuckles. It’s such an adorable sound, and Natsume is grateful he seems more relaxed now than he was when they first arrived to the Fujiwara’s. “I’ve taken a liking to him, too,” he says with a smile directed at Nyanko-sensei.

Nyanko-sensei shoots an appraising look at Tanuma, at Natsume, and then disappears back under the table to continue nibbling on his shrimp.

“It was a pleasure to have your company, Tanuma-kun,” Shigeru-san comments.

Touko-san clasps her hands in joy. “It was. Please come back and visit us again.”

Tanuma blushes. “Thank you. I’m grateful for your hospitality.” He motions to the dishes on the table. “Please allow me to help you clean up.”

“Absolutely not!” Touko-san exclaims. “You should head home before it gets too cold.” She stands up and hands Tanuma an insulated bottle. “Please, take this hot tea for the walk back home.”

“Oh, I couldn’t…”

“I insist.”

Natsume watches with gratitude in his heart as Touko-san treats Tanuma like he’s family.

Tanuma collects his coat at the entrance of the Fujiwara residence and slides it back on. He hunches his shoulders and recedes into the high collar of the coat a bit, something Natsume has noted that he does when he’s feeling a little shy.

“I really enjoy spending time with you and your family,” Tanuma states.

Natsume would have him over for dinner every day of the week if he could. “I’m glad you could join us. Please come over again.”

Tanuma reddens and shoves his free hand – the one not holding the thermos of tea Touko-san gave him – into his pocket. “I’d like that.”

Seeing Tanuma’s soft, sincere eyes and gentle smile, Natsume feels a pull to do something – touch his cheek, hold his hand, lean up and…

Instead, he takes the scarf hanging too loosely around Tanuma’s neck and arranges it so it’ll better protect him from the cold on his way home. The slight hitch he hears in Tanuma’s breath as he does so catches him off guard.

“H-have a safe trip home,” he blurts out.

Tanuma lifts his hand, and after a few seconds of what seems like contemplation, he places it delicately on Natsume’s shoulder. Now it’s Natsume’s turn to inhale sharply.

“Thank you,” Tanuma says with all the honesty in the world, and then he’s stepping out into the winter air and rounding the corner to return home.

Natsume remains in the doorway thinking about their dinner. Thinking about how much he likes being with Tanuma.

“Takashi-kun!” Touko-san’s concerned voice calls from the kitchen. “Please come out of the cold!”

“Sorry!” Natsume calls back. He slides the door closed, but despite the chilly air, he doesn’t feel cold at all.

Chapter Text

“It’s just a headache,” Natsume asserts.

Tanuma knows better. “Still, we should rest now.” He tries to persuade Natsume by pointing to the graying clouds above. “We need to take shelter from the approaching rain.”

Natsume’s shoulders sag, but he complies and stays seated next to Tanuma on the porch of a shrine in the middle of the forest where a youkai attack has left Natsume with a bad headache and Tanuma with a guilty conscience from not being able to help. It is continually discouraging when all he can do is watch uselessly from the sidelines as Natsume battles a force Tanuma cannot see.

“I’m sorry for troubling you again,” Natsume says, looking down at his folded hands in a forlorn manner.

Tanuma shakes his head sharply enough so his friend will get the message. “It’s not any trouble,” he tries desperately to convince him. “It’s never any trouble.”

Natsume smiles for a moment, but winces a second later and lowers his head so his hair hides his expression, presumably so Tanuma won’t see how pained it is. His headache must be unbearable.

Tanuma comes up with an idea, then. A way he can help.

“You know, since I often get headaches around youkai, my father showed me a way to relieve them using massaging techniques. Would you like me to show you?”

Natsume purses his lips and looks away. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

Tanuma puts a hand on his tense shoulder. He wishes he could stop Natsume from thinking that way. “You’re never a burden. I promise.”

That seems to dissipate Natsume’s worrying a bit, though Tanuma really hopes he understands just how much he values him and would never, ever see him as a bother.

“Okay,” Natsume answers. “As long as you don’t mind…”

Tanuma’s spirit brightens as it always does when Natsume entrusts him with his wellbeing.

“I’ll sit cross-legged, like this” – Tanuma gets into position on the shrine’s porch – “and then you can lie on your back and put your head in my lap.” He hopes the porch's wooden foundation won’t bring his friend too much discomfort.

Natsume nods. Slowly, he turns his back to Tanuma, slides his legs out, and carefully rolls down. Tanuma cradles the back of his head for support and guides him down the rest of the way.

His head feels so delicate once it rests on his lap.

Natsume releases a deep breath.

“Are you comfortable?” Tanuma asks.

Natsume tilts his head back and looks up at him with soft eyes. “Yes.”

Tanuma tries his best to calm his rapidly beating heart. “Okay. I’m going to start with your neck and shoulders. Can I begin?”

“Mm.”

Tanuma rubs his hands together so they will be warmer and thus feel more pleasant on Natsume’s skin. Springtime has ushered in warmer temperatures, but with the darkening clouds obscuring the sun, it’s cool enough that today has called for jackets. Putting uncomfortably cold hands on Natsume won’t help alleviate his headache.

Warming his hands also gives Tanuma time to think through how he is going to go about this task. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. Natsume is his precious friend, and he doesn’t want to add to the pain he’s already experiencing. He doesn’t want to add to today’s failure of not being able to protect him.

He tries to put those thoughts behind him as he musters up enough courage to start.

Just as he’s about to get his hands in position, however, the sound of rain coming down fills the space. It throws him off until he realizes that, thankfully, the shrine’s awning is wide enough to shelter them from any stray droplets. And then he discovers that the sound of the rain tapping down on the shrine’s roof and forest floor is actually quite relaxing and sets a nice atmosphere. It calms Tanuma down enough that he can get to work.

As deftly as possible, he places his hands under Natsume’s neck and lets his fingertips ease into the skin at the base of his skull.

Natsume lets out a small gasp.

Tanuma immediately removes his hands. “I’m sorry! Am I hurting you?”

“No!” Natsume responds just as quickly. “No, it doesn’t hurt at all. It feels nice. Really nice. This is just…” – Natsume looks away, cheeks turning red – “…new to me.”

“Oh.” After learning that he didn’t actually bring his friend more pain, Tanuma’s shoulders slowly start to release their tension. “If it’s too much, please tell me.”

“It wasn’t too much,” Natsume says quickly. “I…” His chest rises and falls as he seemingly searches for what to say. Tanuma hangs on his every word. “It was nice. I enjoyed it.”

Tanuma feels the relief uncoil the tightness in his chest. “Okay. I’m glad. I’ll keep going.”

He places his hands back in position and carefully continues with the methods his father taught him, starting out with very light pressure.

Much to his relief, Natsume seems to relax more with every passing second. He closes his eyes as Tanuma presses soft circles into the joining of his neck and shoulders.

Having Natsume in his lap like this makes Tanuma’s head feel lighter. Natsume is allowing him to help, is trusting him enough that he can close his eyes without fear. Tanuma knows that is a precious gift he won’t take for granted.

“I wish I could make all of your pain go away,” Tanuma says quietly, and his statement extends far beyond Natsume’s current headache. “I can’t, but…I can be there for you when it hurts.”

Natsume’s breath hitches and his eyes flutter open. “Tanuma…”

Tanuma inwardly chastises himself for saying something that probably sounded weird, but then he sees Natsume’s eyes crinkle and his lips turn upward into a small smile.

“Thank you.”

The two words and the tenderness behind them make Tanuma’s heart leap. He glides his hands up to Natsume’s face and slides a comforting thumb across his cheek. He might be imagining it, but he’s pretty sure he can feel Natsume shiver and then lean into the touch before he closes his eyes again.

The rain has cooled the air, but it feels warm here with Natsume. The fragrance of the plants surrounding them has been heightened by the rain, from the fresh scent of cedar trees to the dewy plum blossoms. It really is a lovely atmosphere, painting the forest with an almost surreal aura.

Tanuma continues his movements by drawing circles into Natsume’s temples. Touch is something neither of them is entirely used to, so Tanuma approaches the task slowly and carefully and as steadily as his nerves will let him, trying very hard not to get distracted by how incredibly soft Natsume’s hair feels in his hands.

By the time he has moved his fingertips to the spot just above Natsume’s eyebrows, he can tell that Natsume’s breathing has grown heavier and more rhythmic. Upon closer inspection, he is shocked to find that Natsume has actually dozed off.

He trusts me enough to fall asleep here, even after a youkai came after him,” Tanuma thinks. He is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear Nyanko-sensei return from his hunt for a headache remedy until he jumps onto the porch carrying a bunch of plants in his mouth that he drops at Tanuma’s side.

“He’s asleep,” Tanuma whispers. “Please be careful not to wake him.”

Nyanko-sensei’s eyes go from Natsume to Tanuma. His expression is a serious one.

“Answer me this. Would you feed me all the sweets I want?”

The question seems to come out of nowhere, causing Tanuma’s hands to stall.

“I said, would you feed me all the sweets I want?” Nyanko-sensei repeats after receiving no response.

“…I don’t understand,” Tanuma answers, careful to keep his voice down. He really has no idea why he’s being asked this question.

“You and Natsume,” Nyanko-sensei explains. “You like spending time with each other. You’re good for each other. But, before you end up staying together for the long haul, I need to know that you would feed me sweets. Good sweets. Dango, and mochi, and that almond cake they sell in that French bakery in the city.”

Tanuma processes what he just heard. Natsume likes spending time with me? We’re…good for each other? His head feels fluttery. Maybe he needs a cranial massage, too.

“I suppose I could feed you sweets from time to time, as long as they don’t make you ill,” he says, too shy to point out the other things Nyanko-sensei mentioned.

The cat nods. “Good. Then I approve of your union.”

“Our union?” Tanuma’s curiosity suddenly outweighs his shyness.

Nyanko-sensei looks at him like he’s some kind of fool. “I want Natsume to be with someone I approve of. Someone who would feed me treats. I like you. He likes you. The Fujiwaras like you. So what are you waiting for?”

Tanuma feels out of breath. He removes his hands from Natsume’s hair and leaves them awkwardly hanging in the air, which suddenly feels very thick.

“Natsume is an amazing person,” he says. “He deserves…”

Someone who cares for him, Tanuma thinks to himself. Someone who loves him for everything he is. Someone who would make sure he knew every day how special and how loved he is.

“He deserves you,” Nyanko-sensei says right as Tanuma realizes that he himself ticks every one of those boxes.

But the rain washes away the compliment as Tanuma realizes he does not tick the most important box of all.

“No,” he says without being able to look at Nyanko-sensei or Natsume. “He deserves someone who can see what he sees. Someone who can protect him and not stand by idly when he’s in trouble.”

It’s a fact that is always present in Tanuma’s mind. If his experience with Omibashira taught him anything, it’s that even when he tries to be helpful in Natsume’s dealings with youkai, his abilities are too limited to do much. He would only hold Natsume back.

“Are you an idiot?” Nyanko-sensei retorts loudly, jaunting Tanuma out of his self-deprecating spiral (but thankfully not disrupting Natsume’s slumber). “You might not see exactly what he sees, but you understand him. That’s what he needs.”

Tanuma hasn’t thought about it that way before.

“Isn’t that what you want, too?” Nyanko-sensei continues. “Someone who understands you?” He juts his nose in Natsume’s direction. “He understands you.”

All of these truths hit Tanuma at once. His heart is pounding, and he can sense his hands are shaking too much to continue his massage.

Despite that, however, he feels a smile spread across his face, because this is Nyanko-sensei’s way of telling him he approves of what truly resides in his heart. And considering how important Natsume and Nyanko-sensei are to each other, that means a great deal to Tanuma.

He pats Nyanko-sensei’s head.

“You care about him, too,” Tanuma says, “so I’m grateful to have your blessing.”

Nyanko-sensei swivels his head and trots away. “Whatever. Give him the herbs I brought. And remember what I said about feeding me sweets.”

Tanuma laughs as softly as he can. When he looks up, the gray clouds have parted to give way to sky painted in purple and orange from the setting sun.

I will remember everything you said this afternoon, he thinks. And as Natsume awakes and looks up at him with impossible tenderness, Tanuma feels more courage than ever to voice the words in his heart some day soon.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun casts familiar shadows inside Tanuma’s home. On the ceiling, outlines of koi glide languidly through the water. Natsume turns his head to the source of the shadows, the mysterious pond in Tanuma’s backyard that seems to exist partly in the world of humans and partly in the world of youkai. The ripples left in the koi’s wake dance slowly through the water’s surface.

Everything seems to have slowed down since the summer season heralded longer, sunnier days.

Everything except Natsume’s heartbeat.

The clack of a shogi piece draws his attention back to the game he and Tanuma are playing out on the deck. Bathed in the golden rays of the sun, Tanuma looks heavenly.

The two have been spending a lot of time together this summer, and every moment has felt precious. Natsume wishes the days could stretch on forever, wishes they could stay together like this always. He wonders if he will ever draw up the courage to tell Tanuma exactly that.

Tanuma looks up at him with a shy smile. “Um…”

It takes Natsume a good long while to realize it’s his turn. When he looks down at the formation of the pieces on the board, however, he notices that Tanuma has already won.

“Oh!” It’s embarrassing how faraway his voice sounds, like he just woke up out of a deep sleep. In truth, this whole summer has felt like a dream. Better yet, a daydream come true. “I resign.”

Tanuma scratches his head bashfully. “It was a good game.”

It might be the haze of the summer heat and humidity, but Natsume swears that Tanuma’s gaze lingers on his, the two of them locking eyes from opposite ends of the shogi board, the game already forgotten…

“It sure is warm outside today.”

The sound of Tanuma’s father’s voice jolts Natsume into awareness. The kindly man sets a lacquered tray of chilled green tea on the wooden floor of the deck next to the shogi board. The ice is already starting to melt in the sun.

“You boys should make sure you stay hydrated.” He looks from Tanuma to Natsume with a jovial smile.

“Thank you very much for your generosity,” Natsume says way too fast, nerves getting the best of him.

Tanuma’s father is perceptive. Natsume wonders if he can see right into his heart. He deeply respects the man and doesn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize the relationship between him and his son. He’s afraid that revealing his true feelings would do just that.

“Thank you, Father,” Tanuma adds, staring at the two glasses of tea and blushing.

Tanuma’s father tells them he’s stepping out to run some errands, refusing their help when it’s offered.

“These are just small tasks,” he assures them. “You two should relax here and enjoy the afternoon.” He takes a step back inside, but then pauses, looks over his shoulder at Natsume, and turns around to face them again. The smile he wears permeates every feature of his face.

“Every day, I am glad your paths crossed and led you into each other’s lives,” he says.

Natsume’s ears ring. He spent so many years of his life feeling like a burden. To be thought of as a blessing…

To have proof that Tanuma’s father wants him to be in his son’s life…is glad that he is in his son’s life…

“I’m glad, too,” Natsume finds himself saying aloud.

Tanuma blushes a deeper shade of red. Natsume is sure his cheeks are sporting a rosy tint by now as well.

The priest’s smile widens even more, and he nods his head before turning around and heading out the door. Whether the nod of his head is meant as a polite goodbye or a signal that it’s okay for Natsume to confess, Natsume does not know for sure. But he has a hunch. 

He feels a million things at once: the bubbliness of loving someone, the confidence to tell them, the glow of being a welcomed presence in the lives of others. He takes a gulp of iced tea, the hint of summer citrus sweet on his tongue, trying his best to cool down so he can think straight.

The only sound that fills the space for a while is the chirping of cicadas indulging in the warmth of the setting sun, though their songs do nothing to drown out the sound of Tanuma’s father’s words playing on a loop in Natsume’s mind.

Tanuma takes a sip of tea and stares at the ethereal patterns of fish floating on the ceiling. The slow, undulating reflections of water play across his face.

Natsume knows Tanuma has always wanted to see the pond in actuality, not just its shadows.

Maybe, sight isn’t the only way.

“Tanuma.” Natsume swallows. “Would you like to…try to…feel the pond?”

Tanuma freezes. The only movement in his vicinity is a bead of condensation slipping down the glass of tea in his hand.

The silence seems to stretch on forever. “I’m sorry if it’s a dumb suggestion,” Natsume tacks on quickly. “But you’ve asked me before what the pond looks like, and I thought maybe we could explore it more. Together.”

Tanuma sets his sight across the shogi board, looking more surprised than confused. Finally, his lips curve into an elated smile. “It’s not a dumb suggestion. Not at all. It’s a thoughtful one.” He puts the glass back on the tray and uses a hand to push himself off the deck. “I’d like to try it.”

Natsume releases the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding in.

They walk side by side toward the pond. Natsume has been careful not to get Tanuma involved in the sometimes-dangerous world of youkai, but his dear friend has always lit up at the opportunity to learn more about them and Natsume’s relationship to them. Whereas most people have distanced themselves from Natsume once they’ve caught him acting strangely due to spirits they cannot see, Tanuma has made a great effort to get closer. He thinks back to the time they ended up at the youkai Omibashira’s mansion. No matter how perilous the situation became, Tanuma refused to leave his side.

His heart feels lifted knowing how much he and Tanuma care about each other. He treasures the bond they share, the bond that continues to grow with time. It is daunting to open up more about the things he can see out of fear that dragging Tanuma further into his dealings with youkai will end in pain for his best friend, but Tanuma wants to know more, and Natsume wants to be able to share more of his life with him. The pond seems like a good place to start.

When they reach the water’s edge, Natsume puts an arm out in front of Tanuma, remembering that he can’t see where the pond begins.

“The koi seemed to move at a mild pace when I saw their shadows on the ceiling,” Tanuma comments. “Is that still the case?”

Natsume nods. “They’re in no rush,” he confirms, watching as the scales of the koi turn golden in the glitter of sunlight. “They must be enjoying the slower pace of summer.”

Tanuma smiles as he follows Natsume’s line of vision, like he’s picturing what is being described.

Natsume crouches down and scrutinizes everything in front of him to glean just how safe it is to put a hand into the water. Nyanko-sensei is hanging out with the Dog’s Circle this afternoon and isn’t around to rescue them should anything go wrong.

Tanuma must sense his hesitation. “Natsume, please don’t endanger yourself. It’s okay. I’m just happy to know you can see the pond. It has always been special to me.”

Natsume knows that, yet it makes his heart leap to hear that Tanuma still wants him to experience things that are precious to him.

“I’ll be careful,” he says to quell any worries.

Taking a deep breath, he dips a finger into the water. To his relief, it feels just like ordinary pond water. Next, he cups his hands together under the surface, raises them, and watches the water slip through the spaces between his fingers. Nothing out of the ordinary happens. The koi continue their unhurried swimming.

“Natsume…”

Tanuma’s voice sounds softer than usual. Natsume tilts his head up and sees Tanuma nervously rubbing his arm and chewing his lip, yet maintaining confident eye contact.

“I’m really glad our paths crossed, too.”

Natsume’s heartbeat speeds up. He moves his attention away from the pond and focuses all of it on his best friend.

“I’m not very good at expressing how I feel,” Tanuma continues. “But I want you to know that every time the seasons change and you’re still by my side…it makes me really happy.”

Happy. Tanuma is happy to be with him.

“Tanuma…”

“Regardless of what I can and cannot see in the world of youkai,” Tanuma confesses, “you and I can see each other, really see each other, and that’s what matters most to me.”

Natsume is left speechless. Here is his dear friend, laying his feelings out in front of him, making it known that he cherishes what they have. That he…

That he cherishes Natsume.

Natsume searches his mind for a response. Any response. He wants so desperately to tell Tanuma how much he cherishes him right back, but all the words floating through his head seem to pale in comparison to how he really feels.

So maybe he can communicate his feelings in another way.

He dips his cupped hands back into the pond and gathers as much water as he can with shaky limbs before carefully rising to stand in front of Tanuma.

It takes all of his concentration to steady himself so he can transfer the pond water into one cupped hand as he takes Tanuma’s in the other and turns his palm upward. The back of Tanuma’s hand is soft against his.

He tilts his right hand over Tanuma’s palm and watches the water trickle onto it and subsequently slide down over it. When it has fallen back into the pond, Natsume places his own palm over Tanuma’s.

“Can you feel this?” he asks, not really meaning the pond or the water or any youkai presence, but something much deeper that can be felt more than it can be seen.

Tanuma nods, breath heavy. He curls his fingers over Natsume’s hand. His voice comes out in barely more than a whisper. “Yes.”

The next few seconds seem to go by too slowly and too quickly all at once. The orange glow of the sunset caresses Tanuma’s cheek as he moves closer to Natsume.

Natsume leans in and tightens his hold on their joined hands.

And then, their lips meet for the very first time.

Natsume closes his eyes, feeling warmth spread through his entire being. His heart beats so strongly it’s as if it will pound right out of his chest. He wants to stay like this forever, hoping this kiss can convey to Tanuma everything he feels since words cannot do those feelings justice.  

Actually, he wants to be closer.

He releases his hold on Tanuma’s hands and rests his own on Tanuma’s shoulders, pulling him in and letting the kiss linger like a lifeline. Everything feels right, like each second of their lives was moving them towards this one moment.

To love and be loved is overwhelming, so much so that it makes Natsume’s knees weak. Next thing he knows, he finds himself kneeling on the grass at the edge of the pond.

Tanuma immediately lunges onto the ground beside him, looking worried.

“Falling down wasn’t youkai-related,” Natsume spits out to mollify any fear. “My knees just gave out because I’m really happy. You’re really special to me, Tanuma.”

He realizes how ridiculous that sentence must have sounded, but Tanuma’s worried expression transforms into one of delight. A smile stretches across his entire face until a soft laugh escapes him and builds into a joyful one that leaves Tanuma leaning back on his hands with his happy expression lifted towards the sky. The sight is sweeter than any Natsume has ever seen before, and the joy is infectious. He laughs right along with him.

“I’m really happy, too, Natsume,” Tanuma says with very pink cheeks.

Natsume’s desire to calm his heart is eclipsed by his desire to kiss Tanuma again. Down in the grass, he joins their lips together once more. It’s pure bliss, the setting sun at his back and Tanuma warm in his arms.

“Hooray!!!”

Natsume nearly jumps out of his skin. He whips his head around to see none other than Nyanko-sensei and every member of the Dog’s Circle cheering near the Tanuma residence’s back gate.

Tanuma looks worried all over again.

“It’s just Nyanko-sensei and his friends,” Natsume explains. “They’re…” He feels quite embarrassed describing the scene. “They’re waving their fans in celebration of us…um…confessing.”

“Oh.” Tanuma hunches his shoulders, looking shy but still smiling. “I’m glad for their support.”

Nyanko-sensei struts over to them and leaps onto Tanuma’s head. “Took you long enough,” he huffs. “Don’t forget your promise, boy – I expect a future full of delicious sweets!”

Natsume has no idea what promise Nyanko-sensei is referring to, but Tanuma seems to understand. He chuckles, lifts the cat off his head, and brings him into a soft hug. Only Tanuma could get away with that.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he tells the cat. “I’ll never forget.” He fixes his kind eyes on Natsume and gives him a smile that has all the promise of a happy future together.

When summer ends and the leaves turn red in autumn, they will be together. When the cold winter winds come through, they will have each other. And when the spring ushers in a new dawn, their affection will bloom alongside the flowers.

The seasons may change, but their love for each other will forever remain a constant.