#in which i mention nishimura talking tanuma thru a panic attack

[goodlucktai]

could you do 39 for natsume yuujinchou?? i love your work <3

PROMPTS LIST

39. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” “And I’m trying to subtly avoid it!”

x

Tsuji forced all his friends to take a first aid class with him over the spring holiday. To the collective surprise of the entire group, Nishimura and Kitamoto were certified already. 

Kitamoto’s mom is a doctor, he explains, and believes in her kids (biological or otherwise) being as prepared for the world as she could make them. They go to all those pop-up classes the clinic and community center have to offer. They’re CPR-certified and could probably triage in their sleep. 

When Taki thinks about it for longer than fifteen seconds, it stops being such a surprise. 

“Hey,” Nishimura says, stooping to an easy crouch in front of Tanuma, fearless in the face of what is probably the scariest thing Taki has ever seen. “Look at me, buddy. I’m gonna take your hands, okay?”

Tanuma’s dark eyes are-- bright and glassy, almost vacant. He looks at Nishimura like he’s looking right through him. But when Nishimura takes his hands, Tanuma’s grip is vice-like. He might as well be dangling off a cliff’s edge for how hard he holds on. 

Nishimura doesn’t even twitch. His face is like an open wound, hurting and raw, but he’s absolutely steady; a rock for the ocean to crash against. 

“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “I know you’re scared. You’re allowed to be scared. But I need you to breathe, okay?” 

Taki thinks she understands, now, at least part of the reason why he and Natsume struck up such a fast friendship. Natsume is such a loner, and Nishimura has an extremely tight-knit relationship with his best friend, they’re both hard people to get to know. But they were friends inside a week, inseparable inside a month, and part of it must be this-- Nishimura knowing how to tend these invisible hurts-- letting someone in pain hold on to him too hard. 

“I’m gonna count, and you’re gonna breathe,” Nishimura is saying. His tone isn’t urgent. It’s friendly and quiet, like he’s talking during a sleepover when not all of their friends are awake yet. “Normally it’s a ten-count, but that seems generous. Let’s aim for three, okay? Inhale for three, exhale for three. You can do this, Tanuma, I know you can. I’ll do it with you.”

It’s a matter of minutes, long and painful, before Tanuma’s shallow breaths take a more controlled tone. He’s trembling, as if he’s cold, and Taki wants so badly to throw her arms around him that she’s trembling, too. 

She leans against Nishimura, instead; soaking up comfort and hopefully sending some back in turn.

“Can you talk to me now?” Nishimura asks. Tanuma seems to consider for a second, some awareness bleeding back into his eyes, and then nods his head in a sharp little jerk. “Oh, good. You’re doing really good. I want you to try to name five things you can see, okay? Just look around and tell me when you spot something.”

This seems to be an overwhelming task at first. Tanuma’s eyes slide away and then dart back a couple times, as if afraid to lose the one safe touchstone of his friend, front-and-center. But Nishimura is infinitely patient, more patient than Taki has literally ever seen him before, as if he saves all of his self-control for these specific occasions, wheedling and coaxing until finally Tanuma plays along. 

“Nishimura,” is the first thing Tanuma says, and Taki thinks that it’s the beginning of a request, but Nishimura smiles. 

“Cheating a little, but we’ll count it. Four more.”

The sky is the second thing, hanging above them in a curtain of vivid blue, impossible to miss. Nishimura’s schoolbag is the third, discarded in the grass beside them where he dropped it without a second thought. A bright yellow pencil case is the fourth, spilled out of the bag alongside workbooks and graded homework. Taki is fifth. She beams at him, and remarkably manages not to cry. 

“Awesome,” Nishimura praises him. “Let’s keep this ball rolling. Four things you can feel.”

It comes a little easier this time: their hands, still joined, skin pressed white from the force of their grip; the grass underneath them, soft and springy; the late afternoon sunshine; the breeze. 

They keep going through three things he can hear, two things he can smell, and by the time Nishimura asks for one thing he can taste, and Tanuma says, “Um-- I don’t really taste anything? My mouth, I guess?” Taki can let go of the last of her fear. She finally leans in to give Tanuma that hug. He leans against her with a sigh that sounds so weary it makes her heart physically ache. He only hugs back with one arm, because he’s still holding one of Nishimura’s hands with the other. 

Natsume returns at that point at a dead run, a plastic bag dangling from one hand, Nyanko-sensei keeping pace at his feet. He’s windblown and breathless, but not as haggard as he would have been if he’d really run all the way into town and back again, so Taki has her suspicions that he flew most of the way. 

“I got everything you said,” he says by way of greeting. He shoves the bag into Nishimura’s hand and then glues himself to Tanuma’s side. Taki magnanimously allows it, only releasing Tanuma when his arm around her loosens first. 

Nishimura hums his thanks, rooting through the Family Mart bag without urgency. He produces a green tea first, twisting the cap off before handing it over. When Tanuma has taken a few agreeable sips, Nishimura holds up a dark chocolate bar in one hand, and a yogurt cup in the other. 

“Snack time. Which do you want? Choose wisely because I’m eating the other one.”

Tanuma cracks a smile and takes the chocolate bar. Probably, Taki thinks, because he recognizes Nishimura’s favorite yogurt when he sees it. And it’s that, more than anything, that reassures her that everything is okay. 

Nyanko-sensei crawls into Nishimura’s lap instead of Tanuma’s, surprising them all. Suspiciously, Nishimura holds his food up and away from the creature, but Nyanko-sensei only huffs and settles into a comfortable loaf. 

“Um,” Tanuma says, because of course he does, “I’m really sorry about-- ”

“Nope,” Nishimura replies. “Tell him the rule, Natsume.”

Ruefully, Natsume recites, “‘No apologizing after a panic attack because it’s not nice to make our friends angry on purpose.’”

Taki digests that silently. Apparently Natsume has these terrifying episodes, too. 

“It’s like apologizing for having an allergic reaction or something,” Nishimura says, a little heatedly. He stabs viciously at his yogurt with the little plastic spoon it came with, not looking anybody in the eye. “Like, it doesn’t make sense.” 

“I-- I guess so?” Tanuma says uncertainly. “I mean, that doesn’t seem like the same thing at all-- ”

“Nishimura is the expert here,” Taki cuts in, not unkindly. She gives Tanuma’s knee a gentle thump. “We’ve only had one first aid class. He’s had about four-hundred.”

“Yes, exactly,” Nishimura says, “thank you, Taki.” 

Tanuma looks bewildered, and pale and tired, and he’s still leaning against Taki like he doesn’t have the strength to keep himself up. He looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself if he isn’t allowed to apologize, but Nishimura doesn’t give him another opening. Once the tea is gone and the snacks are consumed, he rallies everyone to their feet with a clap of his hands, with all the energy of a kindergarten teacher. 

“Movie night’s still on, right? Kitamoto is probably waiting at your place already, Natsume. Let’s get a move on!”

Later, when Taki is two hours into her Internet research of how to handle any similar situation with even a fraction of Nishimura’s competency, she’ll learn how important it is to stick around after a panic attack. Had it been up to her, she might have suggested they reschedule, that Tanuma would probably appreciate his own peaceful, quiet home for the rest of the night instead, but even this much is part of the process. Keeping him company, keeping him distracted, giving his thoughts no chance to settle on whatever it was that had so upset him in the first place. She has so much to learn. 

Kitamoto is waiting for them, after all, sitting on the engawa with Touko-san as they stroll up. He smiles automatically when he sees them, but Taki is watching for it, waiting for it, and she sees it-- the sharp way his eyes zero in on Tanuma after all of two seconds. 

But all he says is, “There you are. Aunt Touko and I thought we were going to have to send out a search-and-rescue team.”

Touko laughs, and goes around to welcome them all inside properly. Her hand lingers on Tanuma’s shoulder, and her eyes are so warm and caring that she doesn’t need to say anything at all. Tanuma ducks his head, the tips of his ears turning pink. Natsume beams at his mother. Taki smiles, too, but she doesn’t follow them inside. 

Her eyes are drifting back to the yard, where Kitamoto is attempting to gently interrogate Nishimura and Nishimura is pretending like he doesn’t hear him. 

“Stop talking about yogurt,” Kitamoto is saying. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.” 

“And I’m trying to subtly avoid it,” Nishimura shoots back. 

“You don’t have a subtle bone in your body, Satchan,” Kitamoto says. His voice and face go very soft, like morning frost thawing in the sun. “Tell me what happened.”

Nishimura seems to hold out for all of five seconds. Then he blurts, “Tanuma had a panic attack. I have no idea what set him off. I talked him through it but I didn’t know what I was doing, I was fumbling through it the whole time like an idiot, I wish someone else had been there, he deserves better than that-- ”

Taki is startled, almost horrified, but Kitamoto doesn’t seem surprised. He just looks sad. He reaches out, even though Nishimura’s hands are still full of Natsume’s cat and the Family Mart bag, and tugs Nishimura forward against his chest. Then both his arms wrap around Nishimura’s shoulders like a blanket, like Kitamoto is trying to fold him up into something he can carry with him everywhere, safe and secure.

For the first time all afternoon, Taki realizes that Nishimura must have been terrified. He loves his friends loudly and unselfconsciously, and no amount of training would have made it easy for him to watch one of them in the grip of a panic attack, struggling to breathe and clinging to him for help. 

This is why Nyanko-sensei stuck with Nishimura, Taki thinks. Tanuma had the combined support of three of his closest friends, and all Nishimura had was a grumpy old cat. 

“It’s okay,” Kitamoto says. “You did good.”

“You weren’t even there, Acchan, you don’t know that,” Nishimura snaps, only it sounds more like a sob, and Taki is frozen in the open doorway of Natsume’s house. 

“Of course I know that.” Kitamoto pillows his cheek on the top of Nishimura’s head and just holds him, like he has nowhere else to be and nothing else to do. “I know you. I know you did good.”

Taki gives in to her baser instincts. Leaving the door wide open behind her, she charges over to the two of them and all but slams into Nishimura’s back. Kitamoto sees her coming, but Nishimura gives a yelp of surprise, and Nyanko-sensei grumbles as he’s further squished. 

Worming her hands between them in order to better hug Nishimura as hard as she can, Taki says, “You were amazing, Nishimura. You were perfect. I’m so grateful you were there. Thank you so much.”

“See?” Kitamoto says. Taki can’t see him, but his voice is shaped like a grin. “I have an inside source right here.”

Nishimura squirms, like he’s thinking about making a break for it, but they have him sandwiched pretty securely. He subsides with a grumble that Taki can tell is fake. It makes her smile and squeeze him even tighter. 

“Don’t tell Tanuma,” he mumbles, all wet and muffled because he’s crying and his face is buried in Kitamoto’s shoulder. “He already feels guilty. We gotta be on our A-Game so he doesn’t get sad.”

“You’re benched for the rest of the night,” Kitamoto replies. “You’ve done more than your fair share. Me, Taki and Natsume can take it from here, if Aunt Touko doesn’t swoop in and fix everything herself before we get the chance. Right, Taki?”

Taki thinks its impossible how much she loves her friends. She understands completely why Nishimura is so noisy about it, why he refuses to be embarrassed about it. She thinks she never, ever wants to be in a situation like that again, where two of them are suffering right in front of her and she can’t do anything to help. She thinks, the next time one of those classes are offered at the clinic, she’s going to go. She thinks she’s going to talk to Tsuji about it tomorrow.

“Right,” she says. “We’ve got you.”