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dragon-in-a-mug · 2 years ago

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To Be Worthy Of The Title

Heya, @drunk-nyanko! I'm your secret santa for @natsume-ss. I wish you a happy new year and I hope you enjoy your gift!

Summary: Natsume's first year with the Fujiwaras and how others perceive their family - or 4+1 times people call the Fujiwaras Natsume's parents

Additional: mention of Natsume's childhood, slight emotional hurt/comfort, misunderstandings

Natsume had become a staple in their friend group surprisingly fast. When they first discovered that the mysterious, aloft boy was actually just a painfully awkward teenager, with next to no experiences in the friendship department, they didn't really have another choice, but to socially adopt him and show him what it was like to have real friends. It was basically the law!

They hadn't had Natsume for long, but it was already hard to imagine how it would be again without him there, if he would leave again. Not that any of them expect him to leave. It was very unlikely after all.

Something Satoru had picked up fast on was that Natsume had a hard time with the concept of acceptance. But because Natsume couldn't be simple for the life of him, even his problems had to be extra complicated.

Because on the one hand, Natsume was one of the sweetest and most kindhearted people Satoru had ever met. He was always nice to everyone, even if they were being anything but pleasant in return and he was oh-so forgiving to people who, in Satoru's humble opinion, really didn't deserve it.

But on other hand, as soon as someone showed Natsume even the slightest bits of care or kindness he would look at them with his wide, weirdly cat-like eyes, that invoked the immediate need in Satoru to punish every single person who had ever wronged his friend in any way. Of course, Natsume probably wouldn't approve of it, that loveable bastard.

To be honest, sometimes Satoru got the feeling that Natsume thought he didn't deserve any warm-hearted behavior towards himself. It was weird. Especially because Natsume was living with the Fujiwaras, two more of the warmest and sincerest people Satoru ever had the fortune of meeting. Even with those two Natsume had the issue of receiving their kindness without having any strings attached.

There was an instance, not too long after Tanuma had joined their friend group. Himself, Atsushi, Sasada, Tanuma and of course Natsume where walking home from school, chatting. The conversation had moved to the weekend.

"We should do something together!", Satoru exclaimed excitedly, whirling around to face the others.

Atsushi nodded along. "Yeah, that'd be fun. But we are not going fishing again!" At that Satoru started pouting.

"You know, fishing is not the only thing I do. I'm able to suggest other things."

"Oh really?", countered Atsushi with a teasing smile. He answered with an indignant squawk and hurled himself at his friend, clinging to his shoulder. Atsushi was only able to stay upright because of his life long experiences with Satoru's antics.

"A-chan, why are you always so mean to meeee?", whined Satoru. The prompt reply "Because you deserve it." was only followed by more whining. Atsushi just snorted and pushed his friend's face away, which only led to him tightening his grip on Atsushi's arm.

Sasada, who was walking behind the two boys, let out a long suffering sigh. "What did I do to deserve this?", she mumbeld, head turned up as if to ask the heavens. Then, before one of the others could make a remark, she perked back up again.

"Oh, I heard their is a nice art exhibit in the next town over! We could go there for the weekend." She eagerly clapped her hand together, smiling brightly.

Satoru let go of Atsushi's arm to turn around. "Sasada, noooo! That sounds educational. I don't wanna learn stuff on the weekend," he moaned in agony as if Sasada was actively torturing him. Next to him, Atsushi just shook his head, mirth dancing in his eyes, but Sasada wrinkled her forehead and glared at him. She huffed annoyed before she turned around, to look at Natsume and Tanuma, who were walking behind her, watching the exchange with amused smiles.

"I'm sure Natsume and Tanuma would love to go to that exhibition, am I right?"

"Ah, sorry, I actually don't have time this weekend. I already told my father I would help him clean the temple," Tanuma said apologetically. Natsume nodded along. "Me neither. I promised Touko-san I would go shopping with her. I'm sorry." They both looked sheepish into the round.

Satoru waved them off with a grin. "If you really wanted to go and you'd ask, I'm sure your dad and your mom," he pointed at the two boys in front of him respectively, "would let you. Just sad that art exhibits suck and no one wants to go there." He wanted to triumphantly stick his tongue out at Sasada, but he was interrupted in his actions by loud coughing. Because when he had called Touko Fujiwara Natsume's mom the other had choked on his own spit.

The whole group came to a stop, the others were looking at Natsume worriedly and Tanuma was rubbing his back, while the boy himself was trying to reign in his coughing fit. Satoru wasn't sure what, but he was positive that he had done something wrong. When Natsume was able to breathe normally again, he turned towards Satoru. As soon as those light brown eyes met his own, he felt immense guilt crawling up his body and settling in his chest. Natsume's face was beet red (Satoru had never seen so much colour on the boy's pale cheeks, not even when he caught one of his worser fevers) and his eyes were slightly wet from the exertion of the coughing. And oh, the expression in those eyes. Satoru almost flinched back when he was faced with the sheer panic and distress in Natsume's expression.

"My mom?!", Natsume repeated, his voice more a wheeze, than anything else. Satoru cocked his head to the side. That was the big problem? "I mean yeah? Fujiwara-san is basically your mom, isn't she?", he asked confused. Natsume shied away at his words, faintly curling into himself.

Now Satoru was officially lost. He looked to his other friends for help, but all he got in return was Tanuma, who gave him a weirdly pitying face and an angry glare from Sasada, who sharply shook her head at him, to signal him to stop talking. Then, she softened her expression and turned back to Natsume and spoke to him in a gentle voice. "It's alright if you two are already busy this weekend. We can postpone the visit to the exhibit. Let's go home for now, okay? We can talk about it more tomorrow," she steered the conversation away from any upsetting topics. Natsume just nodded, still looking slightly dazed.

Next to Satoru, Atsushi put his hand on his friend's shoulder and gently turned him around. With that their procession started moving again, but this time it was uncomfortably quiet. Satoru wanted to break the silence so badly. He felt responsible for it, even though he was still not really sure what he did. His hands fidgeted with the strap of his school bag when he was pulled out of his musings by Atsushi lightly squeezing his shoulder. He looked up to his best friend, who gave him a reassuring smile, before leaning in a bit. "It's gonna be okay. No one is mad at you. I just think you overwhelmed Natsume. I think he's not ready for the m- or the d-word. Don't beat yourself up about it. Give him some time before you talk to him and then everything will go back to normal, you'll see," Atsushi whispered comfortingly and gave his shoulder a final squeeze before letting go.

Satoru risked a quick look back at where Natsume was walking between Sasada and Tanuma. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, his eyes distant. It made Satoru's gut twist.

It was hard to forget that Natsume grew up constantly on the move, being passed from one relative to the next like some used toy, having nowhere to settle down, no one able or willing to provide him with a permanent home in which he'd be supplied with unconditional love and acceptance. It was hard to forget, but it happened, like in this instance and Satoru felt all the more guilty for it. He wanted to immediately turn around, hug the boy and apologize and then, just for good measure, assure him that the Fujiwaras loved him very much, even he could see it clear as day, so Natsume shouldn't even think about doubting it. But of course Atsushi was right. Satoru had to give Natsume some time to think. He could right his wrongs tomorrow.

An inaudible sigh left his lips when their ways home separated. He timidly bid his friends farewell and, though the mood was still subdued, the others waved their goodbyes as well, except Natsume who seemed to be knee-deep in his own thoughts. Ah well, Satoru would get his chance tomorrow.

The next day Satoru would apologize for having said something that had made Natsume feel uncomfortable and Natsume would in return apologize for his reaction. After that, they wouldn't speak of the incident again, unless it was Natsume who brought it up.

It was still way too early for Natsume to use them, Satoru supposed, but hopefully his dear friend would soon grow to find comfort in those words as much as in the people, who would, Satoru had no doubt about it, love to earn the honor of being called parents.

Things during his current exorcist job had gone a bit south and of course Natsume had gotten himself involved in it yet again. In the end, everything had worked out just fine, but Shuuichi could definitely do without the constant near heart attacks he experienced, whenever his young friend got tangled up in his work.

Shuuichi sighed as he looked at the boy, who sat in the train seat opposite to his own, double checking that he was alright and hadn't gotten injured. Of course, he had already looked Natsume over as soon as they had finished sealing away a particularly nasty yokai, but sometimes Shuuichi thought the boy was able to get in trouble the second he looked away.

Natsume was looking out the window, but turned his head to face him when he felt Shuuichi's eyes on him. They stared at each other for a bit before Shuuichi had to blink. He had no idea how Natsume did that. His unblinking gaze was almost as bad as his useless bodyguard's. Though Shuuichi wasn't even sure that the pig cat needed to blink. It was a bit unnerving at times. He was snapped back to attention by the sound of Natsume's voice.

"Is something wrong, Natori-san?" Shuuichi couldn't help but smile at that. Natsume always showed more concern for others than for himself. It was an admirable trait, especially for people like them, but Shuuichi worried. He was always worried about his friend even if he wasn't able to show it in the way he wanted.

Natsume had lived through so many hardships already and he was still so young. They shared quite a lot of childhood experiences. Both had grown up shunned by their family because of their sight, but despite all that, where Shuuichi had become bitter and disillusioned, Natsume had gotten to be understanding and compassionate.

The simple truth was that Natsume was a genuinely good person, who deserved nothing less but the world. Natsume was certainly better than Shuuichi and significantly better than all the other exorcists combined. Shuuichi was amazed by his strength time and time again. Not only his physical strength, but also his mental strength.

When he was out with Natsume, the boy made him want to do better, to be a person that he could trust in when he struggled with something. He hoped that no one would ever be able to break Natsume's bright spirit and he sure as hell didn't want to become the person who dragged him down and poisoned his pure soul. So he tried his best. For his friend.

Of course, Natsume had something that Shuuichi had never had the luck of getting. Natsume had the Fujiwaras. They didn't know of many of the struggles their foster son was facing on a daily basis, sure, but they were patient and determined to not give up on him so easily.

At first, Shuuichi wasn't sure if their relationship would be durable. Natsume didn't tell them about the yokai and for people, who didn't know about them, some of the things that happened to those with the gift (or curse, depending on how you want to view it) of being able to see the supernatural were just too weird, too unexplainable, just too much.

People often don't like what they don't understand. Not the Fujiwaras. They were always there for Natsume. Obviously they wanted to ask him questions when he came back home to them, again with dirty clothes and all scratched up, but they never pressed him for answers because his comfort and his trust in them was far more important to the Fujiwaras.

Shuuichi was thankful for them. Just like he had told him, Shuuichi would have taken Natsume as his ward in a heartbeat, but he was glad that the Fujiwaras had proven themselves to be such caring people.

They could provide Natsume with the stability and the understanding he deserved. It was clear that they loved him like their own flesh and blood, as if he was their biological child.

Shuuichi shook his head to bring himself out of his thoughts.

"No, everything's fine, Natsume-kun," he finally answered the question. "I just hope your parents don't mind if you come home so late," Shuuichi added, more to himself than to Natsume. At the mention of the word "parent", Natsume had turned an interesting shade of red. The exorcist watched fascinated as the blush crept up the ears and down the neck, as his friend's mouth started opening and closing like that of a carp out of water.

"They're not… I mean… I… they… my parents…" Natsume turned into a sputtering mess, not able to bring out a single coherent sentence. Shuuichi still understood what the boy wanted to tell him. His face became indescribably soft as he watched his young friend struggle with his emotions and thoughts. It was an expression that was pretty much reserved for Natsume, even though he'd probably never admit that, especially if that damned cat was around to hear it.

Shuuichi was quite familiar with the tactic Natsume was using right now, hidden between his stuttered words and burning red face. Denial. Squashing down any feelings of hope to prevent the possibility of disappointment. He had done that plenty himself when he was younger, before he had grown to be more confident in himself and his abilities. After all, there was nothing more dissuading than repeatedly getting your hopes crushed and blown into your face. So, Shuuichi understood what Natsume was doing. He understood so well. His smile turned a little sad.

Then, when he got his facial features back under control, Shuuichi finally took mercy on the boy. He lazily waved his hand like he wanted to shoo away Natsume's thoughts. "Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Anyways, you think Fujiwara-san will try to force feed me again, to gain some weight, when I stay for dinner?" he asked, changing the topic in the process. It wasn't very smooth, but Natsume looked thankful for his efforts nonetheless and immediately jumped onto the new topic. Shuuichi could feel two green cat eyes boring into him, but he didn't pay them any mind.

"Definitely. I think she doesn't believe that you can sufficiently feed yourself. In her defense, you really should eat more," Natsume huffed out exasperatedly. Shuuichi scoffed. "You're on to talk, bean pole." His witty reply was answered with a light kick to his shin. Their small squabble continued for the rest of the train ride and Shuuichi was happy to see that Natsume was able to relax again.

Shuuichi understood that Natsume didn't want to get his hopes up, but he also knew that the Fujiwaras would never let Natsume fall. They were different. They'd do anything to lift him up so he could spread his wings and take flight. Shuuichi only hoped that Natsume would be able to see that the Fujiwaras were there to stay and would be there for him for as long as he would let them. All in due time, the exorcist presumed, as he watched his kind friend, talk about his kind parents.

Natsume sneezed. Hinoe laughed. Natsume glared. Hinoe laughed some more.

"Stop laughing, Hinoe. That could've happened to anyone," Natsume grumbled, wringing out the ends of his shirt. It wasn't dripping wet anymore, but still way too wet to be comfortable. Lucky for him, the weather was still warm and would help him dry quickly.

Madara snorted. "I'd say it was something very Natsume-typical. No one else would be capable of falling into a river in such a stupid manner. Congratulations, Natsume, you're uniquely dense!", jibed the beast, grinning like the cat who got the cream. Quite literally. Natsume glowered at him, muttering about a useless bodyguard.

Hinoe raised her hand to her mouth to at least try and hide some of her amusement, but she just couldn't contain her mirthful giggles. Oh well, nothing to be done about it. Natsume sneezed again. Then again. He looked so much like a drowned rat, Hinoe was actually feeling bad for him. She lowered her hands, her laughter now contained, but a smile still present on her face, though it was more fond than mean-spirited.

"Don't look so grumpy. It doesn't suit that handsome face of yours," she complained, as she draped herself over Natsume's frame. It was a bit uncomfortable to do so while walking, but Hinoe was consequent in her decision to use him as a body rest. Now that she was closer, she could smell the river water in his limp hair and feel the wet clothes hanging from his thin form. There was also something else.

Natsume briefly swatted at her hand as she brushed a few damp strands from his forehead, but ultimately let her pass. She put her hand on his forehead to get a reading on his temperature. It was unusually caring of her. The temperature didn't seem to be off, at most a bit warmer than normal. She breathed out an inaudible sigh before she ruffled Natsume's hair back in his face and retracted her hand. Then she straightened back up so that they were walking next to each other again.

Normally, keeping someone warm with your own body temperature would be beneficial to ward off sickness, but unfortunately Hinoe couldn't do that for him because yokai were naturally cold to the touch. All she could do was make sure that Natsume got home as quickly as possible.

"I hope you're not planning to get sick again?", she asked chidingly. Natsume smiled softly at her while shaking his head. "Don't worry, Hinoe. I don't intend to get sick," he assured her. "Good." She nodded approvingly as if Natsume's sheer will power would actually be enough to prevent any sickness.

"I heard human parents don't like it when their children get sick and start fussing over them, isn't that right, Madara?" Hinoe turned towards the other yokai,but instead of looking at her, his sharp eyes were trained on the boy, looking for or maybe waiting for something to happen. Although she had no idea what that could be. "You're correct. Our dear Natsume over there isn't too keen on having people fret over him, though," he answered, not looking away from Natsume.

Natsume looked thoughtful, eyes glued to the dirt path they were walking on. "Hm, yeah, I wouldn't want Shigeru-san and Touko-san to worry about me. They already do that too often," he muttered, a tender expression forming on his face. You could practically feel the positive emotions radiating off of Natsume, as he thought about the people who took him in.

To be honest, Hinoe had often thought about spiriting Natsume away, to become a part of Yatsuhara forest, where he wouldn't be troubled by human burdens. She had already lost Reiko, a peculiarity between humans, who was treated like less than dirt by her own kind, but ended up meaning the world to her. She didn't want to fail this child, who looked so much like her, but was so different in character, that carried a flame in him that was bright and soothing and oh-so pure. It was nothing like Reiko's lively fire that roared in her chest, yet it was just as beautiful and worthy of protection.

Hinoe didn't trust in humans. Yokai usually don't. However, when she looked at the Fujiwaras and saw them interact with Natsume, all she could see was sheer, unadulterated love. Natsume had found a good home, full of warmth, that Hinoe could never give him in the same way they could. It didn't make her sad. It only made her happy, that that special little human boy, who's heart was too big for his own good, had found a family

Something was going to happen. Madara could feel it in the tips of his whiskers. There was a certain nervousness in the air, surrounding the people in the house like the static of an old tube tv. But there was also something else. Beneath the heavy blanket of anxiety was also a thin sheen of excitement, wanting to break through the uncertainty in a way like flowers in early spring attempting to break through the snow. All these waves of emotions were coming from the same source. That source being the Fujiwaras.

The whirl of emotion was starting to get to Madara, which meant it was absolutely eating Natsume alive. The boy was constantly on edge, his eyes wandering, his gaze calculating. For the past few days he hadn't seemed to be able to relax, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It irritated Madara.

He was used to Natsume's odd quirks, especially his own brand of nervousness, which came from being bothered by yokai his whole life, but currently his weirdness was reaching new heights, that would almost make Madara worry if he weren't so emotionally constipated. The whole "I'm only with you because of the Book Of Friends" drama.

He'd rather swear of sake than admit that he worried about that stupid human who somehow managed to always get himself in the worst predicaments possible, where he ended up needing to be saved from the great and generous Madara. Natsume was truly ridiculous in everything he did.

He was getting carried away. The only important thing right now was that the other occupants of the house were being stressed out by something and although he shouldn't care, Madara could already see himself biting the bullet and trying to get to the bottom of this. Even though he kept telling himself it was only because their stress was making him antsy, but deep down he knew it was because he truly cared about them, but again he'd rather die than tell them that.

That's how Madara found himself on his way to Natsume's room. When he got there, he waddled through the door before he closed it behind him. Natsume was sitting at his desk. He was looking out the window while worrying at his lower lip, not even noticing Madara's entrance.

"Oi, Natsume, stop daydreaming," he complained. Natsume's head snapped around so fast it was almost giving Madara whiplash just from watching.

"Oh, I didn't hear you coming in, Sensei," he remarked, still a bit absent. An annoyed huff left Madara. "Really? I couldn't tell," was his snarky reply. But Natsume didn't pay any heed to his tone. Instead he turned his head back towards the window, lip between his teeth again.

Madara trudged over to the boy and slapped at his knee, claws carefully retracted so they wouldn't get stuck in the fabric of the pants.

"Hey, what are you doing?", Natsume protested, pulling the assaulted knee out of the fat cat's reach. The slap hadn't been hard, just enough to sting a little. Madara rolled his eyes at Natsume's dramatic reaction, then he glared up at the boy.

"Stop chewing on your lip," he ordered. "If you keep it up, you'll break skin and bleed all over your shirt and I know for a fact that you don't want to bother Touko because of a bloody shirt. Which is for the best, because she'll start on dinner soon and I don't want her getting distracted."

Natsume finally released his lip. When Touko was mentioned, he grimaced slightly, a look in his eyes that Madara couldn't fully decipher. At the last sentence, it was Natsume's turn to roll his eyes. He waved the beast off.

" Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "You're right, I wouldn't want to bother Touko-san."

Madara studied Natsume intently. The boy's posture was drawn in, his eyes somewhat vacant. In lieu of biting his lips, he was absentmindedly pulling on his fingers. His face wasn't expressionless, it was just that Madara had a hard time reading the emotions behind him.

That didn't happen often. Normally, Madara was quite good at seeing through the other. But despite all that, he could still tell that there was something weighing down the boy, which led him back to the reason why he entered the room in the first place. Now, how to go about this? Indirect? Delicate? Nah, he'd just be direct, determined the beast. It wouldn't make any sense to dance around the topic.

"What's up with you guys anyway?", Madara finally asked. Natsume blinked at him. "Huh?", he replied confused, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. "What do you mean?" At that Madara groaned, displeased that he had to further explain himself. "I mean," he answered, "why are you all so tense, you and your parents?" At his question, Natsume flinched back violently, as if he'd been hit square in the face, which was coupled with a pained expression, as though he had actually been struck. Madara looked at him surprised. What the hell got into him? Was he missing something here?

"D-Don't call them that!" Natsume's voice sounded near hysterical as his words came out louder than expected. He was looking at everything but Madara as he nervously picked at his hand.

Madara curiously raised one eyebrow. He hadn't expected such a negative reaction, considering he had the feeling that Natsume was warming up to the term "parents". Not that Madara cared or paid close attention to it, of course! But it was still noticeable that Natsume's response right now was much stronger than the last time Madara witnessed someone calling the Fujiwaras his parents. How odd. Madara shook his head, refocusing.

"Whatever. You and the Fujiwaras then. What's the matter with you? Why is everyone in this house (except me, of course) a bundle of nerves?", he questioned as he tried to catch Natsume's gaze. Natsume met his eyes for a few seconds before he wasn't able to withstand Madara's scrutinizing and had to avert his eyes again. The boy shrugged.

"I don't know. It's probably just work and school stress. I haven't really noticed a change in atmosphere though," he told Madara. A clear lie, but Madara wasn't sure what Natsume was trying to accomplish with it. There wasn't any reason why he should feel the need to keep anything like that secret. It was nothing life threatening after all, more an inconvenience for Madara than anything else. Knowing Natsume, it was probably for a stupid reason. Most things Natsume did were done for one stupid reason or another. 'I have to help them because nobody else can', 'It was the right thing to do' or something along those lines. It almost always ended with Madara having to pull off some kind of rescue.

Before he could call the boy out for his lie, Shigeru's voice sounded up from downstairs, asking Natsume to help him carry something. Natsume immediately shot up from his desk, more or less bolting out of the room, probably incredibly glad to be able to escape their conversation so easily.

Madara huffed. What a brat. He'd get to the bottom of this, if Natsume wanted or not. It was likely that the boy's nervousness was caused by the jittery Fujiwaras. The problem at hand may have something to do with the whole parent thing, though Madara wasn't sure what the actual issue with that was. Though, that also didn't explain why Touko and Shigeru were so high-strung all of a sudden. Despite his efforts to come up with an answer, there were just some puzzle pieces missing and without them Madara wouldn't be able to see the whole picture.

He let out a long sigh. All his pondering would lead to nothing right now, decided Madara. Instead he would conserve his strengths and chance a look into the kitchen to see if Touko had already started on dinner. Maybe he could get some scraps if he waited patiently enough. Touko was amazing like that. While he walked back downstairs his mind briefly wandered back to Natsume. He could distantly hear Shigeru and the boy somewhere further inside the house.

Madara just hoped that the Fujiwaras would be able to regain their nerves and at the same time quell some of Natsume's fears. They seemed to be quite good at that. Like parents.

They wanted to pass him on, Takashi just knew it. He wouldn't even be able to be mad at them. It was what everyone did, after all. They had also lasted astonishingly long. He had gained so much, thanks to them. In the one year they had spent together, he had been able to make incredible friends, learn more about his family, had found himself a purpose and most of all, he had found a place with them that felt so much like he imagined home to feel like. It reminded him of his dad and their porch.

But of course, it was all too good to be true. Natsume knew that everything good was temporary, never long-lasting. Not for him at least. It always came to an end, most of the time sooner rather than later. And now the time had come. The Fujiwaras were going to pass him on to someone else. Maybe he'd end up in an orphanage next? Takashi was pretty sure he had run out of distant relatives. He'd have to wait for his answer even if not for long. Touko-san and Shigeru-san had told him that they wanted to talk about something important during dinner.

That's how it went most of the time. Takashi would hear his relatives talking on the phone, complaining about him and asking, sometimes even begging, the person on the other side to take him, to free them of the curse that was Natsume Takashi. There weren't any phone calls this time, at least none that Takashi had overheard, but there were other signs that his time with the only people, who had actually wanted him, was running out.

An unease permeated the house like a foul smell, whispered conversations that stopped when he entered the room and all the looks that were being sent his way as if they were already trying to gauge his reaction to the upcoming news. All that was proof enough for him, that his days in this cosy little house were numbered.

Takashi only wondered what the final straw was, that broke the camel's back. Maybe it was one ripped trouser too much? One lost pencil case too many? Maybe it was his fragility and the constant bouts of sickness? Or maybe it was his overall weirdness that drove them away? Him staring at nothing with an intense gaze, yelling at empty air, reacting to invisible forces, he could see how all that could become too much quickly.

In the end, it didn't matter. Takashi had long accepted that he was bound to a life of never-ending movement, with nowhere to settle down and grow roots. Why should it be different now? Sure, his stay with the Fujiwaras was the longest he ever had until then, but that only meant that the departure would be that much more painful this time.

Because for the first time in his life, since his parents died, he wanted nothing more than to stay, to bask in the warmth of the people and the places he had learned to call his home for just a little longer and then some. But he wouldn't dare to be this selfish. He didn't want to force himself on those kind people. That simply wouldn't be fair to them. Takashi would take whatever fate the Fujiwaras decided on for him with open arms as a final farewell gift from them to him.

When dinner rolled around Takashi was completely on edge. He swallowed thickly. The time had come. The impending conversation hung over him like a heavy storm cloud, waiting to hail down on him.

They started eating, but Takashi could barely force anything down. He constantly threw looks up at the adults, but neither of them said anything, not noticing his rising trepidation. After a few moments, he couldn't stay quiet any longer.

"Y-You wanted to talk to me about something?", he blurted out, barely able to suppress the shaking of his voice. They both looked up at him with their typical soft expressions, but Takashi could also see apprehension and unease in their eyes. At that view, his insides started to painfully twist together. Shigeru smiled reassuringly at him. "How about we talk after dinner?", he suggested. Takashi could only nod in agreement, paired with a small "Okay". Getting out anything more felt like a herculean task, so he gave up on it.

After that, dinner was pure torture for Takashi, but he tried really hard to not let it show on his face. He could only hope he was being successful at it. Shigeru-san and Touko-san were chatting like usual, asking him questions from time to time, but despite his best efforts, his replies were monotonous and brief. If they noticed, they didn't mention it and to be honest, Takashi was glad about that. He forced his food down, everything tasting like cardboard in his mouth (although he was sure it actually tasted amazing, just like always), ignored Nyanko-sensei's eyes attempting to burn holes into his skin from under the table and desperately tried to not fall apart right where he sat. He'd say he'd managed alright.

When they eventually finished their dinner, Takashi could have wept, if it was because of sheer relieve, that he would finally be able to get this conversation over with or if it was due to overwhelming heartache because he didn't want them to tell him, what he already knew, that he was too much for them and they wanted him out of their house, he couldn't tell.

After they had cleared the table, they returned to their seats. Takashi watched the two adults through his lashes, not capable to meet their gazes head on. He watched Touko-san fidget with her sleeve and listened to Shigeru-san lightly tapping at the desk. None of them seemed to be willing to break the silence.

Then Touko-san finally worked up the courage and shattered the tense silence with the clearing of her throat. Her hands let go of her sleeves and one of them slipped under the table, presumably so that she could hold Shigeru-san's hand. Takashi wished he could have that kind of comfort right now. At that moment Nyanko-sensei jumped up on his lap, kneading his legs before settling down. The pressure of Sensei's round body was grounding and Takashi didn't hesitate to encircle the cat-like creature with his arms. He gave Nyanko-sensei a thankful smile, however shaky it may have looked. His bodyguard blinked slowly at him. That was more than enough for Takashi. It gave him the strength to look up at his still-foster-parents.

Takashi would never be truly ready to hear whatever earth shattering words these kind people had for him. He just hoped they wouldn't try to justify their decisions. Most of his other relatives did that, when they told him someone else was going to take him in. He hated it when they did that. It always made his bones itch and his skin crawl. The justifications were never for his sake. Their sole purpose was to make his former guardians feel better about themselves. Not that he took offense at that. Takashi was well aware that it was hard work to take care of him, that's why he never protested when it was his time to move on.

He wouldn't make this hard for the Fujiwaras. They had already put up with so much for him. Takashi had also promised himself not to cry, even though he really wanted to right now. Tears would only make them feel guilty and he definitely didn't want to make them feel awkward or the need to console him over a decision that was more than valid.

Touko-san had seemingly found the right words to start their little conversation because she began talking. "Takashi-kun, you've been living with us for around a year now. A few weeks more and it's exactly one year," she started, shooting a quick look to her husband for reassurance. Shigeru-san smiled warmly at her before the pair looked back at Takashi, then Touko-san continued. "It was an amazing year with you. You filled this house, which always felt too big for just the two of us, with life and laughter and I want to thank you for that from the bottom of my heart." Next to her Shigeru-san nodded approvingly.

Takashi hugged Nyanko-sensei closer to him. He could feel the tell-tale pressure of tears slowly rising in his eyes, but he fought them down. It was so nice of them to say all that, but it made what was about to come feel even more cruel. He could already taste the 'but' that would now follow on his tongue and it tasted like blood in his mouth. He closed his eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And then everything came different. "You gave us so much," Shigeru-san picked up where his wife had left off. "You brought us so much happiness and let us explore a completely new kind of love, that we had never been fortunate enough to experience on our one. We don't know if we will ever be able to repay you for this kindness, but we thought it might be a good starting point to officially make you a part of this family. Not that you aren't already a part of this family, of course, but you know, in legal terms."

Takashi's eyes flew back open and he sat up ramrod straight, almost dislodging Nyanko-sensei from his place on his lap. His shock-wide eyes were racing back and forth between the two adults sitting in front of them. "What-?", was all he could choke out, his voice slightly raspy.

Touko-san smiled at him, her kind expression feeling just as warm to the skin as a hug, and reached out her arm, laying her hand, palm up, on the table top between them. Natsume losend one of his arms from the death grip he had on Sensei and shakily raised it. He stopped his hand inches before Touko-san's, as if he were afraid she'd rethink her decision and pull it back. When that didn't happen he slowly put his hand in her, which she grasped gingerly in return. Then she brought up her other hand that was still holding Shigeru-san's and placed them both on top of his hand.

Takashi stared at his enveloped hand, feeling the warmth of their hands seeping into him. It made him feel so safe. He moved his gaze back up to their faces when Touko-san started talking again. "If you'd allow us, we would like to adopt you, Takashi-kun," she said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze which was followed by another squeeze from Shigeru-san. Takashi stared at them, thunderstruck.

He understood what they had said, he knew what they meant, what they wanted to do, but something in his brain was just not clicking into place. They actually wanted him? They wanted to have him around? No, that couldn't be right. They wanted to pass him on to someone else. That's why they had been so nervous and stressed the last few weeks. Right?

Apparently he'd been quiet for too long because Shigeru-san chimed in again. "Of course we understand if you're not ready for that yet or don't want this at all. Neither would be an issue. We're still more than happy to foster you. Like I said earlier, you're already our child in every way that truly matters." At that he tapped the place of his chest where his heart was, before he moved on. "We just want you to think about it. You don't have to make a decision immediately. You have all the time in the world." Touko-san nodded vigorously and squeezed Takashi's hand again.

"Exactly! Take your time. Just do us the favor and consider it. We don't want you to feel as if we are trying to replace your parents. That is not our intention at all. We'd love to have official papers saying that you're our son, but we don't want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don't want to. Whatever you'll decide on, we'll always be here for you. Because we love you."

That was the end of the line for Takashi. He couldn't keep his tears at bay anymore and in the next moment they were already streaming down his face. It was weirdly similar to his first official meeting with the Fujiwaras when he was in the hospital after he fell off that cliff.

At the sight of his tears Touko-san and Shigeru-san had jumped up from their seats in alarm. They had already rushed towards him, now standing to either side of him, hovering worriedly over Takashi. He brought his now empty hand, on which he could still feel the warmth of their hands, and the other hand, that had previously held on tightly to Nyanko-sensei, up to his face to wipe at his eyes. His efforts to stem the tear flow were pretty fruitless, but that wasn't really a concern of his, at the moment.

"Are you alright, Takashi-kun? I'm sorry if we upset you," said Touko-san, concern and a hint of guilt lacing her voice. The Fujiwaras looked ready to fret over him, but they obviously didn't want to intrude in on his personal space.

A wet giggle left Takashi's lips, which quickly turned into soft laughter. He raised his head out of his hands and beamed up at Fujiwara Shigeru and Fujiwara Touko, the people who wanted him to be their son, who offered to become his parents.

"Yes," he chuckled, "I'm feeling more than alright." He heard a relieved sigh from the two adults.

Slowly his laughter died down, but the smile on his face was permanent. He watched his guardians. Their postures were now relaxed, their faces open and full of love. Takashi's heart swelled in his chest.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. Then he was ready. He looked down at Nyanko-sensei, who started purring, then at Shigeru-san and finally at Touko-san. His decision hadn't been a hard one to make.

Sometimes you just have to listen to the voice of your heart, no matter how frail it may sound or how loud your brain is yelling over it to abandon all hope, lest you get hurt. Right now Takashi's heart was singing and it was the most heavenly sound he'd ever heard, a sound telling him to trust, to settle down, to accept that he was loved.

New tears of happiness welled up in his eyes as he finally translated the song in his heart for everyone to hear. "If you want me, I'd love to get adopted by you, Touko-san, Shigeru-san. I want to become your… son." That word was foreign in his mouth, but it tasted oh-so sweet on his tongue. Takashi could definitely get used to it.

Then Touko-san suddenly barreled into his side, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him as close as possible, now tears of her own streaming down her face.

"You already are," she wept into his shoulder, sounding happier than he had ever heard her. Next Shigeru-san joined the hug, holding them in his strong arms while he as well had tears running down his cheeks. "We're so glad. Of course we want you. Our child," he whispered into Takashi's hair, his smile almost splitting his face in half.

They sat there for a long while, just hugging and crying and laughing (or in Nyanko-sensei's case, loudly purring). Neither of them wanted to let go, so they just basked in each other's presence. Of course, the adoption process would be a significantly longer one, but the first step was made. And oh, what a glorious step it was.

While being held by the two people, who were so kind and compassionate, who loved him unconditionally, Takashi thought maybe, the word "parents" didn't sound too bad. It would fit well in this house. His home. Together with his family. It definitely would fit snugly together with "son" and that was all that really mattered right now.

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