@natsumeweek 2017
(Bonus) Day 7; Favorite headcanon
Headcanon: Everyone loves Natsume. Everyone.
Continuation of this fic because I have no control over my life :')
x
When Natsume and Nishimura finally show up, almost two hours later than they said they'd be, they're soaking wet and smiling sheepishly and—
Holding hands.
Katsumi freezes, watching them amble carelessly in from the light rain. Nishimura's jacket is draped over Natsume's head, and Natsume's jacket is wrapped around a disgruntled-looking Nyanko-sensei, and they only seem to have eyes for each other.
“No thanks to Nyanko-sensei,” Nishimura adds smartly, and pretends not to hear the cat's annoyed reply. He reaches for Natsume's hand as they follow Katsumi down the hall, as casually as anything, and adds, “D'you think we could order some food? I'm starving.”
Katsumi says sure, and let him just go find the house phone, he'll be right back and they can just make themselves comfortable.
Two rooms away, he yanks his cellphone out of his pocket and stabs viciously at the screen.
What the hell is this?? Since when are Nishimura and Natsume a THING??
His reply comes fifteen seconds later.
Since now, apparently! It's about time!!
Taki you TRAITOR
Hey, we all agreed to be fair to each other! Don't be all sour because you didn’t get what you wanted!
Easy for you to say, he sends back bitterly. You have *Sasada*
A string of heart emojis is all he gets back, and he puts his phone away with a scowl. Snatching up a handful of takeout menus from the table in the hall, Katsumi follows the sound of conversation back to where he left his friends in the family room.
Great. Now he's gonna have to deal with this all night.
They're sitting on the same side of the low table, watching a video on Nishimura's phone. Natsume's head is resting comfortably on Nishimura's shoulder, and the look on his face is far too affectionate to be for anything that he could possibly be watching in a video.
He looks happy, though. Really happy.
Shoving a mess of complicated and painfully unrequited feelings to the back of his mind, Katsumi steps into the room with a bright grin and a flourish of the takeout menus.
“You guys are hungry, right? Let's eat. Well, first let’s get you some dry clothes. And then we’re cramming for your mock exam tomorrow, because something tells me you’ll need all the help you can get.”
Nishimura groans and sets his phone aside, and Natsume says warmly, “Thank you again, Shibata.”
And it's wildly unfair that his smile should still be allowed to do melty things to Katsumi’s heart. There’s no justice in this world. Katsumi is calling Tanuma tonight in formal protest.
But for now, for Natsume, he waves it off and says, “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”
“Poor Shibata,” Tooru says sympathetically, laying back on her bed. “He's been really unlucky in love so far, hasn't he?”
She knows about the yokai he fell for—he told her about it himself, with a nostalgic ache in his eyes. She can't share as much with Jun, but she feels for him, for the way he constantly reaches for things that can't be touched.
“From what I've heard of him, I'm sure he'll bounce back,” is Jun's dry reply. “Guys like Shibata don't stay single for long.”
She tucks a long lock of hair behind her ear, warm and lovely in the low lighting of her bedroom, and Tooru's heart flutters. She's glad they're only Skyping, because she isn't quite sure yet how not to blush when Jun does something pretty, and that would probably be a lot more embarrassing in real life where she can't blame it on poor camera quality.
“What about you?” Jun asks suddenly, the wry humor in her eyes fading into something warmer. “You're okay, too?”
“Oh, I'm fine,” she says, too fast. “Don't worry about me!”
Maybe there is a tiny ache in her chest where a what-if used to sit, but it's a good little hurt. She'll look back on the feeling fondly, she knows, and maybe tease Natsume about it in the years to come—when they're all happy and they're all settled, and they're all comfortable with where the future found them.
She rolls onto her side, and tucks her knees up by her chest, and changes the subject to the friends Jun has made at her new school.
They've been dancing around the idea of Tooru coming to visit—Jun will bring it up in a hypothetical, “There's an ice cream soda that you just have to try if you're ever here,” and Tooru will say, “Oh, that sounds so good! It's a date!” and they'll giggle and Tooru's heart will weight fifty pounds by the time they say goodnight.
But that's okay. If Jun doesn't invite her soon, Tooru will just have to invent reason enough to cross all these miles between them, to talk to Jun again without a screen in the way.
Tooru cradles her phone close and smiles—and feels something beautiful bloom to life inside her chest when Jun stills, as though stunned by what she sees, and then smiles sweetly right back.
Kitamoto thinks he handles it pretty well, when his name is yelled from the opposite side of the hall and someone slams at full-speed into his side. He nearly falls over, and has to grab his assailant by the arm to keep himself upright, but he doesn't scream or anything.
“We gotta talk!” Adachi says hotly, bright eyes snapping. He grabs Kitamoto by a fistful of his sleeve, and hauls him away.
Kitamoto tucks his diploma into his pocket, and weaves after him through the tight crowd, bemused. Adachi stops short around a corner, and then turns to Kitamoto and points behind him with a wounded look of outrage on his face.
“What is that!” he hisses. Kitamoto blinks at him, steps past him, and leans around the corner warily.
And whatever he expected, it wasn't to see most of his immediate friends. So this is where they went. Tanuma is holding Natsume’s cat and having a complicated one-sided conversation with it—of course he is—and Taki is giggling behind her hands at Nishimura and Natsume, who are—
Ah.
“That, Kei-chan, is what us grown-ups like to call a kiss,” Kitamoto says mildly, looking down the four inches he has on Adachi as obviously as he can. “What's your problem?”
If Adachi is trying to start something, he picked the wrong people to mess with. Natsume and Nishimura, two of Kitamoto's favorite people in the world, aren't ones he'll stand by and let someone cause problems for. And considering how hard a time Adachi had when he transferred into this school—trying to drag up Natsume's past and make his life difficult and only alienating himself in the process—Kitamoto is surprised he hasn't learned his lesson by now.
Adachi's glower, if anything, only darkens.
“I thought you liked him,” he says, fists folding tight. “What's Nishimura doing with him if you like him?”
After a moment or two of initial shock, Kitamoto can't help but laugh. He muffles it behind a hand, trying not to give their position away, but it's enough to annoy Adachi regardless.
“What's so funny!”
“You have no idea,” Kitamoto says. He reaches over to mess up Adachi's hair, grinning when he squawks and shoves his hand away, and says, “You've kinda got the wrong idea, Adachi. I don't like Natsume like that. I mean, I love him, don't get me wrong—but not like that.”
The anger in Adachi's face is slowly fading. If Kitamoto knows him as well as he thinks he does, something flustered and mortified will very quickly take its place.
So he ropes Adachi in with an arm around his shoulders before he can make his panicked escape, hauling him in close against his side and parading around the corner with a “So here you guys are!”
“Acchan!” Nishimura scolds him immediately, spinning away from Natsume to jab a finger at him. “We texted you, like, a hundred times! Where have you been!”
Kitamoto rubs his head sheepishly. “Oh. My phone died.”
“Ugh,” Nishimura says with feeling, and Taki giggles again.
“Hi, Adachi,” she says brightly, and Adachi says “hi” back in a tiny voice. He's bright red, and Kitamoto notices his friends noticing—Tanuma has that worried wrinkle in his brow that always precedes a concerned are you okay?—and abruptly realizes that the actual last thing he wants is for Adachi to be made miserable.
So before anyone else has a chance to say a word, Kitamoto blurts, “Natsume, your parents wouldn't mind if Adachi came with us to dinner tonight, would they?”
Natsume looks surprised, but he recovers with barely a pause and says, “Of course they wouldn't. You're more than welcome, Adachi, if you don't have other plans.”
“Oh, uh. My parents are working,” Adachi says, more to the floor than anyone else. “If you don't mind, then—”
“Then it's settled,” Kitamoto says, and his arm stays around Adachi's shoulders when their group heads for the door. Nishimura mutters something to Natsume along the lines of “oh, great, the last one he adopted was you, and look how long you've been around.”
Taki smacks him, Tanuma and Natsume trade a long-suffering look in perfect unison, and Adachi buries his face in his hands.
Kitamoto grins at everything and nothing in particular, keeps a firm hold on Adachi so he can't scamper away to preserve the remaining tatters of his dignity, and meets the sunlight and the future both brightly as he steps outside.
“Please? I promised Katsumi,” Kaname says, with just the right amount of earnest in his voice to break past his friend's stubborn defenses.
Sure enough, Takashi sighs in defeat a moment later, and Kaname hides a smile as he gets the camera on his phone ready. Impossible fondness folds like fingers around his heart as Takashi opens his arms for Susumu, and Susumu climbs into them right away.
With his son tucked under his chin, Takashi says, “Alright, take your picture.”
Kaname starts to record a video instead. Satoru reaches over to tuck a long piece of Takashi's hair behind his ear, and Kaname says, “So when are you two gonna make this official anyway?”
Takashi splutters, blushing red to the roots of his hair.
“What—Tanuma! We live together, we have Susumu! Satoru was adopted into my family, so they even have my name. How much more official can you get?”
“Way more official,” Satoru says, never one to let an opportunity pass him by. He's looking Takashi dead in the eye as he leans in and says, not for the first time, “I want to marry you.”
Takashi, with nowhere to run, hides his face in Susumu’s hair. Susumu, a solemn and thoughtful child when company is present, turns very fierce brown eyes up to meet Kaname’s and then Satoru’s in turn. He’s frowning at them both and clinging protectively to the front of Takashi’s shirt.
“He's my papa,” little Susumu says severely, to Takashi’s continued embarrassment and Satoru’s utter delight, “and if anyone's gonna marry him it's gonna be me.”
Kaname doesn’t wait a second to send the video to everyone in their group chat. Two phones in the living room chime, and Takashi shoots him a knowing glare even as Satoru snatches his phone up eagerly.
The first, immediate reply is Katsumi’s:
Kaname you went ABOVE AND BEYOND!! I owe you dinner a dozen times!!
ゝ◡╹)ノ♡
“Dude, Shibata is so in love with you it’s sad,” Satoru says, shaking his head with a put-upon sigh. “Make that guy’s life easier and just move in with him already.”
“And what would you know about making someone’s life easier?”
As the Natsumes bicker on the other side of the low table, and Ponta comes in from the bedroom to see what all the noise is about, Kaname sends Katsumi a private message that says
I’ll see you tonight.
He gets a string of heart emojis in return.
There’s a rolling, stretching happiness inside him that only yawns wider and wider with every day that goes by that he can spend with these people; and there aren’t words big enough to contain how much Kaname loves Takashi for being the one, albeit unintentionally, who brought them all together in the first place.
