#the smallest things

[kuroken-divorce-arc]

Kita Shinsuke — The Smallest Things

(fluff / established relationship / domestic) │ he never makes a show of it, but somehow he always turns the smallest things into love.

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

the mornings on the farm always start the same.

the world is still quiet, soft with fog, the air sweet with dew and hay. somewhere, the hens are already chattering, and the faint smell of soil drifts through the porch.

kita’s been up for hours, of course—he always is—but he’s careful not to wake you until the light’s turned gold. when he finally does, it’s with a gentle knock on the doorframe and a calm, “coffee’s ready.”

you shuffle out to the porch in one of his shirts, hair messy, face still warm from sleep. two chairs sit side by side overlooking the fields, your mugs already steaming on the small wooden table between them.

“morning,” you mumble, stretching.

“morning,” he says softly, handing you your mug.

this part of the day is yours—the quiet before the work, when the farm hums low and steady and the world hasn’t yet asked for anything.

you take a slow sip and sigh, sinking into your chair. “perfect, as always.”

he hums in agreement, glancing out toward the rows of crops. “they’re coming in good this season.”

you nod absently, already half lost in the quiet rhythm of it all. your gaze drifts to the small bowl on the table.

“pistachios?” you ask, brightening.

“mmhm.”

you lean forward, surprised. “wait… these are unshelled?”

he nods. “figured you might like them better.”

you pluck one from the bowl and pop it into your mouth. it’s perfect—fresh, salty, the way you always said unshelled pistachios never quite were.

“oh my god,” you grin, “you actually found an un-shelled brand that tastes right! where did you even—”

“not important,” he says simply, lips tugging into a small smile.

you don’t think too hard about it. you just eat another, and another, and soon the bowl’s half-empty.

the two of you sit like that for a while, legs brushing, coffee cooling, the sound of the breeze in the trees filling the silence. there’s nothing rushed about it. just the steady pulse of a life you built together—simple, gentle, whole.

when your cup is empty and his watch beeps faintly with the hour, he stands, brushing the dust from his jeans.

“break’s over,” he murmurs. “gotta check on the hens.”

you smile up at him. “thank you for the coffee, and the pistachios.”

he leans down, kisses your forehead. “anytime.”

later, when he’s gone and you’re tidying up, you carry the empty bowls back to the kitchen. the house still smells faintly of roasted nuts and coffee grounds.

you hum as you start rinsing dishes, until something catches your eye.

when you open the trash can to toss a paper towel inside, you freeze.

sitting right on top of the garbage is a mountain of pistachio shells—pale, split cleanly down the middle, stacked in quiet little layers.

you stare for a long moment, your throat tightening in that way it does when something small hits too deep.

you can picture it perfectly: him sitting at the counter before dawn, cracking open each one with careful fingers, probably humming to himself while the coffee brewed.

no fanfare. no mention. just quiet love, in its purest form.

you close the lid slowly, smiling so hard it hurts a little.

he never says much about love. he just does it—folded into small gestures, invisible to everyone but you.

you stand there for a moment, hand over your heart, before turning back to the sink. the dishes clink softly under the running water, sunlight spilling through the window, and your chest feels full enough to burst.

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

i love kita so much he's my husband the love of my life, this is inspired by my love of pistachios

[tinsnip]

Ok, so bmouse says WIPs should be finished in honour of Garashir on Lower Decks, and I agree.

I'm writing again! It's nice but also work! If you like my Garashir, you might like what's below the read-more. Spoilers for "The Smallest Things" and this is a rough draft.

Dear Ezri,

I hardly know where to start.

I suppose I could start a week ago, when I moved into Garak’s home in Kardasi’or, but that seems to gloss over a few details.

Perhaps instead I’ll go back to two weeks ago when I arrived here on Cardassia and immediately got arrested for harassment of a senior official & resisting arrest. Really, it was immediately. About two hours elapsed from Cardassian soil to Cardassian jail. This is where you can pretend to be surprised, by the way. I was surprised: two hours is a new record for me.

Garak’s just passed by and has asked that I put in a hello, and has also charmingly added that given that it was me, he would have expected the arrest in closer to one hour. Ho ho. He hasn’t changed.

Actually, he has changed. But I don’t know what to say about that yet.

I’ve only been here in person for two weeks, and we’ve seen each other surprisingly little over that period. It turns out that being a person of seemingly some importance in the local government eats up a great deal of his time. He doesn’t sleep much.

But he does make time to cook dinner for us - actually cook! (He won’t let me, as I’m awful at it, which I agree with wholeheartedly.) We have a very small replicator, honestly quite the step down from even the worst standard repli on DS9 - but it can spit out a reasonable variety of ingredients I don’t recognize, and even a sort of facsimile of a tomato, which Garak managed to turn into something surprisingly close to a nice spicy arrabiatta. That was a treat (once I managed to forget that the pasta was some kind of fungus). And I’m getting used to a mostly-strict standard Cardassian breakfast and lunch regimen, as Garak’s not around when I wake up (or for most of the day), and the replicator’s pre-made selection is minimal. And bland. Fish soup is prevalent. Lots of little dry cakes. Not all awful, though - have you ever heard of ikri buns? 

I keep putting this letter down and picking it up again. It’s so hard to put how I’m feeling into words.

I’m happy. I’m so happy. I can’t express it. I’m warm through with it. But I know myself, I know that’s new love. (It’s love! He loves me, Ezri! And I love him, God help me. I’m so in love.) And I know new love fades, and I know things get in the way of love, and I know I don’t see him much, and here I am on a planet that doesn’t like me much - a criminal record after two hours, remember - and also I stand out, and it’s not good for him to have a partner that stands out for a variety of reasons, especially a sort of quasi-Starfleet Human physician - not so much not good for him as not good for his position, which is him. You know it. You know him, and how he feels about Cardassia. You know what it means for him to choose me, despite what it could do to his possible influence here.

You knew better than I did.

And yet here I am in his house, and I’m very happy, and I’m also afraid.

I thought about crossing out that last bit, or at least rewording it, but it’s true. And anyway, I don’t need to watch my words with you, do I? I think you’re the only person I know who could understand what I’m getting at. Miles barely knows about any of this - he’ll be flattened when I next write to him and casually drop my new location (and the letter back will burn off my eyebrows). And Rijal doesn’t like Garak, and is also quite upset with me for leaving—

I’m on indefinite leave, by the way. I’ve taken leave from Starfleet Medical (hence the ‘quasi’ above). I can apply for re-entry at any time within the next two years, the form letter assures me, as I’ve not been discharged or formally resigned my commission. My former duty spot is, of course, not guaranteed, but they promise they’ll make every effort to accommodate my preferences. Once two years are up, it gets a bit more complicated. Manageable, but complicated.

So here I am, not responsible to anyone and far from what was home, without much of anyone to talk to except Garak. And I find I can’t really talk to him about this.

Ezri, I am terrified.

Everything has changed for me. I still can’t believe how this started out with something so small, with a letter and with you leaving (and I still miss you, by the way, and hope you’re well and happy, forgive my parentheses as I’m a bit all over the place). And then things got extremely complicated. A year ago I could never have predicted how things would change, how my life would suddenly seem to shrink to something so small, and then be so weirdly… expanded.

I think I have some idea how you felt when you were joined with Dax. If that’s not too presumptuous, which it probably is, but… I could never have imagined myself doing this, a year ago. I thought I could see my life rolling out comfortably in front of me.

And now this.

I’ve leapt before I looked, as you wisely knew I would. And I told myself I’d sort things out when I landed. But instead I seem to still be falling, with no idea where or when I’m going to land. And you told me so.

But, and please forgive my tortured metaphor, he’s here with me, and we’re falling together, and I know I’m being sappily romantic and this probably won’t end well, and I know I’m scared and he’s scared too even though he’d never admit it, and I also know that I am damned well going to try.

Cardassia can take all the shots it wants at me. I’m ready. Bravery is being afraid and doing it anyway, right? (Garak is now reading over my shoulder, and he says that no, that is not bravery, that is stupidity. He’s also put his arms around me, so I suppose my stupidity is either expected or forgiven.) I hope I can find a way to practice medicine here, but if that’s not what’s needed of me right now, then all right, I’ll adapt. Right now Garak says our best bet for this to all work out, politically and for the two of us, is for me look harmless and ornamental and not at all dangerous (I will never forgive you for the way you’re grinning). So I’m staying at home, and I’m reading, and I’m learning. When I go out I’m on his arm. I’ve done two public appearances at local reading-groups, and I’ve been a guest on a talk show, which has already invited me back. I’ve been told my looks are exotic and my smile is charming and I’m honestly one of the nicest Humans they’ve ever met, if one doesn’t mind the smell and the way we shed.

So I suppose in addition to giddily happy and stomach-churningly frightened, I’m also getting irritated.

This isn’t going to be easy, Ezri. Thank you for warning me. Thank you for telling me to be careful. And thank you for supporting me when you realized I was going to do whatever I wanted, no matter the consequences.

Perhaps in a year, when things settle down a bit, you could come visit? I could take you to see the Alik Dunes, not far from Kardasi’or. It’s a walkable distance from the furthest train stop, actually. They’re the site of the first successful regreening project in this area after the Fire. There’s a little tea shop, and an area where one can walk barefoot. The plants feel very good on one’s soles. Garak and I go there sometimes, and almost no one takes pictures. I think you’d like it.

I miss you. I hope you’re well. I hope you’re having grand adventures. I hope you can lend me a little courage as I start out on this one.

Best wishes, and all my love,

Julian Bashir

[sirlonius]

[goodlucktai]

prompt: childhood best friend tanunatsu 💕

this is set in the smallest things universe !

x

Kaito bites down on the edges of a smile, and tries to look as solemn as his son seems to think the occasion deserves. He has limited success; Kaname shoots him a sidelong glare.

“Stop it,” the eight year old mutters, sinking a little further down his seat. The tips of his ears are pink. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Kaito says mildly. “I just really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Kaname presses his lips together and stares down at his feet. He was excited for weeks, in his own quiet way; excited as he helped pack his room away into cardboard boxes, excited as the movers came and lifted everything from their house into the back of their large truck, excited as they ordered in for their last dinner at the apartment – but now, on the train, an hour away from their new home, he’s almost sick with nerves.

“What if,” he starts, and doesn’t seem to know how to finish. 

Kaito gives him a moment, reaching over to push a hand through Kaname’s messy hair. It hangs into his eyes when he ducks his head, but Kaito has always politely fended off the heavy-handed relatives that offer to force the boy into a haircut. It’s one of Kaname’s many ways to hide when he feels uncomfortable, and Kaito won’t take it from him. 

Finally, his son murmurs, “What if his friends don’t like me?”

Ah, Kaito thinks. So that’s it. 

“You’ve met his friends,” Kaito points out. “You’ve played with them plenty of times.”

“But– only for a little while,” his boy says, clearly struggling to find the words. “Now I’ll be there all the time, and they might think I’m– “

Boring, he doesn’t say, but he might as well have. The word rings between them anyway, loud and clear. It’s what his classmates and the neighborhood children always say about Kaname, who is shy and soft-spoken and often too sick to play outside for very long.

Kaname has always had such a hard time making friends. That summer they spent in Hitoyoshi, almost two years ago now, was like a blessing. Moving there permanently wasn’t a hard decision to make, for all that it will take them hours away from their relatives.

“I don’t think Takashi would come and visit as much as he does if he thinks that of you,” Kaito says quietly. “Do you?”

After a long moment, Kaname shakes his head. 

“And if Takashi doesn’t think so, it’s safe to bet his friends don’t think so, either. Give them a chance, Kaname. I’ll bet you anything they’re driving their parents crazy with how excited they are to be closer to you.”

He knows this for a fact, of course, because Touko told him on the phone just this morning that the other kids all stayed over at the Fujiwara house in anticipation of the Tanumas’ arrival; that they were all too eager to sleep. 

And Kaname knows it for a fact, too, when the train finally rolls to a stop at the quiet Hitoyoshi Station, because there’s a welcome waiting for them there. 

All four of his friends shout his name, but Takashi beats the rest of them in the race to throw his arms around Kaname. They collide in a hug that takes the breath out of them both– they stagger and almost fall over– and they’re laughing so fiercely they don’t seem to notice. 

“You’re here!” Takashi says, spinning Kaname in a happy circle. “And you never have to go away again!”

“Quit hogging him, Takashi,” Satoru says, pushing his way over, “Nyanko-sensei wants to say hi!”

“Hi, Ponta!” Kaname accepts the armful of fat calico with a wide grin.

Satoru walks backwards to pepper Kaname with questions about the train ride. Atsushi complains that the cat never lets him hold it for this long. The third time Kaname reaches up to shove the bangs from his face, Tooru tugs the pink pompom out of her hair and pulls Kaname’s back with it instead. Takashi holds Kaname’s hand every step of the way. 

And that’s how he spends his first day back in Hitoyoshi; his hair in a lopsided ponytail, a fat cat on his shoulder, and a smile on his face that’s as bright and bold as Kaito’s ever seen it. 

And moving to this town is already worth it, just for that. 

[ohbrien]

it’s been 6 months and i’m still not over the fact that sebastian got jersey plates for his new car. like he’s just out there… repping my state… wherever he goes. wild.

[tinsnip]

Okay, this is going to get reworked for the fic because it doesn't fit as it is - I decided to take a different tack - but Bekla and Jekad crack me up, and I wanted to preserve them somehow. Spoilers for "The Smallest Things."

Our sponsor for the show is, as always, Golet Kobel Nuts: for the longest, sweetest glow. With a kobel nut in your cheek, life is sweeter, stresses are smaller, and problems melt away just like the delectable kobel nut syrup you know so well. For the reliable, satisfying relaxation you deserve, choose Golet.

This week's Golet Gossip is from a long-term follower, first-time commenter - our favourite kind! - who says, “Dear friends at Windcatch:

My gossip comes from the Capital itself - hmm! intriguing! - and it concerns an unexpected visitor to the Central Plaza. A Human Starfleet officer -

This can't be that interesting.

Wait, why not? Give it a chance, Bekla.

I'm so bored of Humans. All the gossip we get about Humans is the same. ”Oh, the Human said something weird! Oh, the Human ate the food wrong! Oh, the Human—”

I admit they've lost some of their novelty.

Well, they're *everywhere*, Jekad. Can't go anywhere in Kardasi’or these days without finding hairs in your food, can you.

Now, now.

Go on, then...

*Thank* you, Bekla. All right, our writer says a Human Starfleet officer -

- the worst kind -

--seems to have some pull in unexpectedly high circles in Kardasi'or. After being apprehended for causing a nuisance during the business hours of the Ministerial Level--

Hmm, maybe I do like Humans after all.

I wonder what he did?

”Nuisance“ is so vague. Keep going.

Hmm. All right - after being apprehended... yes... was apparently vanished off to a holding cell, or wherever nuisances go—

Bored again...

—and was then visited by the Secretary to the Minister of Accountability for a *private conversation*!

Mmm-hmm. I wonder how many lights he saw.

No, wait - apparently it wasn't that kind of conversation - apparently it was actually the Minister's real secretary! Our source claims to work in the office adjacent to hers and states that they would know her anywhere!

Ooh. Careful, source, you're going to get spotted.

Only by people who follow our feed.

Who says Ministers can't follow our feed?

I think our sponsors would be a little heftier than Golet Kobel Nuts if Ministers followed our feed. Not that I don't adore a good Golet Kobel Nut!

Oh, and I do as well.

What flavour are you suckling today, Bekla?

I'm trying the new mulvan flavour.

What do you think?

Why, it's dreamy-delicious, like all treats made by our friends at Golet.

Of course it is. And I'm going with good old classic Plain.

Ah, one must love the classics.

Mmm. Now, let's see - our source says the secretary visited with the Human for some time. Our source doesn't know what they talked about - disappointing, source! Try harder next time! - but *does* know that the secretary came out looking *very* frustrated and - get this - asked them for a kobel nut!

No!

Yes!

Secretaries of Ministers sucking kobel nuts, just like we poor gutter trash on the feeds?

Mmm. What sad days have come for Cardassia.

Sad days indeed. Wipe your tears, followers.

And then - hmm! All right, Bekla, you'll like this.

No! Don't tell me -

Yes! Your new favourite Minister appeared!

He looks *so* good in blue!

You really shouldn't choose your politicians by how they dress.

He looks better in blue than you do, Jekad.

I look atrocious in blue. I'll admit it.

You turn green.

Anyway, your favourite Minister *went down to the holding cell himself* and—

And??

And it stops there! That's all they've fed us!

But I'm still hungry!

I find myself more than a little peckish as well! We know so little about our new Minister, don't we.

We're starving. We're scrabbling at crumbs.

Source, you've got to do better. We're begging you. Find out what happened.

Don't let us starve! Look at my skin: positively sunken in around my jaw ridge.

It's depressing.

The makeup does nothing.

All right - let's each have another kobel nut to cheer up. What do you think of this one? Kafi?

Eww, they're pandering to Humans now?

Bekla...

[goodlucktai]

leave a light on

@natsumeweek 2018 day 3; dreams

read on ao3

“Don’t you like your room, Takashi?” Touko asks him over breakfast, in a careful tone. “Is there something about it that we need to fix?”

In the four days since they moved out the clutter and moved in the furniture to make the former storage room a suitable bedroom for a six year old boy, Takashi has crept in to sleep in Shigeru and Touko’s room every night.

But the boy shakes his head, eyes wide.

“It’s the best room I’ve ever seen,” he insists, childishly earnest. Shigeru smiles despite himself.

“Well, that’s good to hear!” Touko smiles, too, but she’s like a dog with a bone. “But is there some reason you don’t like sleeping there?”

And the light falls out of Takashi’s eyes like someone pushed it over a precipice into uncertain darkness.

It’s unsettling to see a child’s face shut down as quickly as Takashi’s does. Touko is halfway around the table in as much time as it takes Shigeru to catch his breath.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she soothes quickly, kneeling beside Takashi’s chair, tucking the hair out of his eyes, “you’re not in trouble, we’re not angry. I just want to make sure you feel comfortable, that’s all. If you don’t want to sleep in your room, you don’t have to.”

Takashi’s mouth trembles, something Shigeru has seen people his own age do when they’re trying to push back tears. Under Touko’s gentle hands, it’s a losing battle. His eyes water and spill over, fat tears that roll down his cheeks, and his little shoulders hitch with the first sob, and then another.

“I don’t want to go anywhere else,” he cries, “I want to stay here.”

Touko shoots Shigeru a look of utter alarm, even as she folds the boy into her arms.

Truthfully, Shigeru’s heart aches for the little scrap of a child, so certain of being unwanted where he isn’t certain of anything else. Passed around as much as he was in two years, he only learned that everything and everyone in his life is impermanent; the only thing he knows to expect is unwelcome change.

It will be a long walk down a long road, convincing Takashi to believe anything different, but they have the time. Shigeru would not have opened their home to him if they didn’t.  

“Takashi, you don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to,” Shigeru tells him firmly. “We aren’t sending you away.”

Wet green peeks at him from over Touko’s shoulder, and Takashi lifts a hand to rub at his face. Touko rubs his back, murmuring to him softly, and it might be that more than anything that lends him the courage to say, “The other times I told, no one believed me.”

“You haven’t told us yet, dear one,” Touko tells him, voice light the way it is when they tease each other over house chores. “Maybe this time will be different.”

He’s so young, and children are so resilient. If he had been older when Shigeru found him -- if the years had stacked on, one after another, of coldness and cruelty where there should have been, at the very least, base compassion -- then he wouldn’t have been able to give his trust to them so easily.

But as it is, Takashi looks at them, and sees the kind people who bought him cake and let him pick out the covers for his bed and tucks him into a futon between theirs when he slips into their room at night.

And for a six year old who has been given so little in the way of good things, it’s enough.

“I see monsters,” he tells them. His voice is quiet and somehow bold, as he bares his heart to them at the breakfast table. “They like to pick on me when I’m by myself. I’m by myself most at bedtime.”

Touko lets go of all her breath in a big rush. “Oh, Takashi.” ‘Is that all?’ she doesn’t add, rightly so, but Shigeru understands her sense of relief. “Monsters are something worth being afraid of! Of course you wouldn’t want to sleep alone!”

Takashi stares at her, uncomprehending, and then risks a glance at Shigeru; looking like he has no idea what to make of either of them when Shigeru smiles.

Children imagine monsters when they feel unsafe, and Takashi has had very few reasons to feel safe over the years. It’s no wonder the boy has nightmares.

“Well, Shigeru-san,” Touko says, turning to encompass him in a playfully no-nonsense look. “It appears as though our next order of business is monster-proofing Takashi’s bedroom.”

“We had better monster-proof the rest of the house while we’re at it,” he agrees solemnly, “just to be on the safe side.”

Takashi’s eyes are still a little red from crying, but the fear in his face has been swallowed up by wonder.

“You believe me?” he says, like it’s a miracle if it’s true.

“Of course we do,” Touko says. “Now, what might keep the monsters away?”

Takashi rubs at the tear-tracks on his face with a sleeve, shaky but thoughtful. “Um -- they don’t like shrines or temples. I used to hide in places like that.”

Shigeru thinks of other things the boy might have run and hid from, and firmly turns his mind from the horrible idea. One problem at a time, or nothing will be helped.

Touko claps her hands together, smiling brightly. “I know! Why don’t we go to the Yatsuhara Temple and get some talismans? We might even ask the priest to help us place some ofuda in the house.”

“What do you think, Takashi?” Shigeru asks the boy gently. “Will something like that help?”

“I -- I, I’ve never tried it. No one’s ever gotten me a talisman before.” There’s hope in his eyes, like he’s looking at the first rung of a ladder out of this pit he’s fallen into. His face, remarkably, is working towards a tentative smile. “You’ll really -- really?”

Such a simple, easy thing to do -- listen to his fears, and take steps to make him feel safe. How can it be that Shigeru and Touko are the only ones to do even this much?

“We’ll go after breakfast,” Touko says firmly, and plants a kiss on his forehead for good measure.

And there it is -- an honest to god laugh. It’s quiet, and sounds like it was surprised out of him, but it lingers in the room like the last golden note of a long-lost song, and it lingers with Shigeru for a lot longer than that.

[goodlucktai]

in the interest of full disclosure

@natsumeweek 2018 day 5; yokai & humans

read on ao3

Takashi brings home a cat.

It’s a fat, ugly thing, too big for Takashi’s thin arms, but it seems to be an agreeable creature. It hangs in Takashi’s grip like a toy, blinking lazily at the house and ignoring its inhabitants entirely.

“What a silly-looking cat!” Touko says, crouching in front of him. “Where on earth did you find it?”

“I was playing in the woods with Satoru and Atsushi and we accidentally woke him up,” the boy explains, hefting the heavy cat a little higher. “He’s a special cat. He can turn really big, and he can fly.”

Shigeru and Touko trade knowing looks. There’s a doe-eyed look of longing on Takashi’s face, the same hopeful expression he gets when something in a storefront window catches his eye, or when Shigeru comes home from work a little earlier than usual. He can’t always bring himself to outright ask for things -- they’ve not quite made it that far, not yet -- but it’s never hard to guess.

“That does sound special. Do you think he might like to live here with us?” Touko asks, and Takashi brightens like a little sun.

“Can he? Thank you!”

Smiling, Touko reaches over to card the long hair out of Takashi’s face, and scratches the cat behind the ears while she’s at it. “What’s his name?”

“He lets me call him Nyanko-sensei.”

Shigeru chuckles before he can help himself. “A noble name for a noble creature.”

Takashi beams, but the cat gives him a narrow-eyed stare.

The cat becomes Takashi’s constant companion. It follows him to school, and dozes under his chair at mealtimes, and seems to recognize his friends. It allows Tooru to coo and cuddle it with an air of dignity better suited royalty than a fat housecat, and sits heavily on Satoru when it seems like he’s about to get himself into trouble.

“It’s a very smart cat,” Touko says one evening, while Shigeru helps her clean dinner dishes, and Takashi and Tooru work on their homework in the next room. “I was boiling water, and went to answer the phone when it rang, and must have been distracted for much longer than I thought -- Nyankichi came to warn me that the pot was overflowing!”

“It probably didn’t like the sound of the water hissing on the burner,” he says, and is treated to his wife’s pouting face.

“Don’t make me look silly! One of these days, Nyankichi is going to break down and talk, and then you’ll be the one I get to tease.”

Shigeru laughs lightly, amused, and says, “When that day comes, I’ll deserve it.”

Touko shoos him out of the kitchen with a cup of tea to drink with his newspaper, and he steps into the sitting room in time to hear Tooru say, “We have to take him to meet ojiichan. Ojiichan is feeling a lot better lately, and he’d love to meet Nyanko-sensei. Can we?”

“Sure we can,” Takashi says, happy to agree when it makes his friend light up with a smile. He’s going to be a kind person, Shigeru thinks fondly at times like these. “I like your grandpa, and Nyanko-sensei does, too. He just likes to be grumpy and pretend he doesn’t like anybody.”

“Oh, thank you, Takashi! I can’t wait! Maybe you two can come over on Sunday. I’ll ask mama when I go home tonight.”

The cat huffs, its ears canting to either side of its head, the way a person might look when their shoulders slump in defeat. But it doesn’t squirm or scratch when Tooru squeezes her arms around it or kisses its head, even if it glares enviously at Shigeru.

Touko must be rubbing off on him. A cat glares because it’s a cat, not because it looks at a person with the freedom to sit down unbothered and thinks things like ‘I wish that were me.’

The autumn equinox falls on a Saturday, and with two full days off from school, Shigeru and Touko make plans for Takashi to visit Kaname, where he and his father are living in Yatsushiro.

Takashi is practically vibrating with excitement, twisting around in his seat to look out the window every few minutes, pointing out interesting things as they go by.

He promised Tooru he’d come back with lots of pictures, and the disposable camera in his hands is nearly full already, before they’ve even made it off the train. Touko promises to pick up another at the train station, her face full and bright at Takashi’s obvious joy.

Shigeru paid the extra fare for the boy’s cat to come along, of course, but Nyangoro doesn’t seem nearly as impressed by the train ride. It keeps one green eye on its charge and ignores the rest of them entirely.

They arrive late into the evening on Friday, and Kaito and Kaname are waiting for them at the station. Takashi gives a little shout when he sees his friend and runs the last few steps to meet him, the two of them colliding in an enthusiastic hug.

“Hi, Kaname, Tanuma-ojisan! Thanks for letting me come visit!”

“I missed you,” Kaname says, muffled into Takashi’s shoulder but sincere. He blinks when he notices Nyangoro in the bag hanging on Takashi’s back. “Um?”

“Oh, this is Nyanko-sensei,” Takashi says, drawing back enough to look at his friend more easily. He offers a hand instead, and Kaname takes it with a shy smile. “He’s a monster, sort of. He’s grumpy, but he’s nice. Maybe he’ll take you flying while I’m here!”

As if it recognizes Kaname from all the stories Takashi has told about him, the cat warms to the boy right away. It lets Kaname hold it with a patience usually reserved for Tooru, bright eyes alert and watchful.

By the time they leave for home on Sunday, Kaname talks to Takashi’s cat the same way all of his close friends do, like it’s a person who understands their hellos and goodbyes. Takashi gets a lingering hug from Kaname, and a new omamori from Kaito, and only cries a little bit on the way home.

“You’ll see him again,” Touko soothes, carding a hand through his hair. “He’s too far away for you to see every day, but he isn’t gone.”

Takashi nods, head tipped over onto Shigeru’s shoulder, fingers buried in Nyangoro’s soft fur. Between the three of them, he’s smiling again before they’re even halfway home.

“I wonder what’s wrong with Nyankichi,” Touko says one day, holding Takashi’s hand as they walk home from a restaurant. “He’s been a little tense since you got home from school.”

“Oh,” Takashi says, “it’s because I lost my charm. At school, I think.”

Shigeru blinks at him in some surprise, taken aback by how unbothered he is. Could this be the same boy who refused to leave the house without his omamori? Touko, likewise, doesn’t seem to know what to say to that.

“It’s okay though,” Takashi says, reassuring. “Nyanko-sensei won’t let the monsters get us.”

As if to prove him wrong, a wind roars down the street they’re on -- Shigeru staggers at the force of it, and Touko cries out in surprise, but Takashi is yanked away completely, torn clear out of Touko’s hand.

He lands in a little heap a few feet away -- and the street is empty, thank god -- but he’s struggling now with something Shigeru can’t see. The wind is still -- present, like a hovering creature instead of an act of nature. It snatches at Takashi’s bright blue jacket and tears through his hair, almost lifting him off the ground. When Shigeru hurries forward, it bites at him, too, trying to force him away.

And then, Shigeru feels a weight land on his back like a blow, as Takashi’s ugly cat jumps from the ground to perch on his shoulder. Its forehead lights up, a symbol shining for just a moment before its swallowed up in a white light too powerful for Shigeru to look through.

When the light is gone, the wind is gone with it, blown off to some other corner of the world. Touko is already lifting Takashi into her arms, shaken to tears as she looks him over.

Shigeru is shaken, too. He puts one hand on Touko’s shoulders, the other on Takashi’s, and holds them while he tries to wrap his mind around the last few moments.

Suddenly, a gruff, unfamiliar voice speaks up. “You take that thing off for a couple hours and this is what happens. You’re a magnet for trouble, aren’t you, Natsume?”

Touko blinks wetly, looking up at Shigeru, and then around at the empty street. Shigeru startles when a weight settles against his knee, and looks down at --

“Nyanko-sensei,” Takashi says, reaching for the fat calico with an air of relief. “Thank you. That one was pretty stubborn.”

Touko is covering her mouth with both hands, shocked into stillness. Nyangoro eyes her, and then Shigeru, and finally turns back to Takashi with an air of contempt.

“You said you told them, brat.”

“I did tell them! They’re probably just surprised. They’ve never heard a cat talk before, you know. You wouldn’t talk to them until now because Shigeru-san made fun of your name.”

Touko’s shoulders start shaking while the boy and the cat are immersed in their conversation. Shigeru risks a look at her, and is surprised to find her laughing quietly. She rubs away the tear tracks on her face, and looks around at her little family with so much love it should be impossible to carry and hold.

“He did tell us,” she says, still laughing. “He told us from the very start, didn’t he? And he’s -- he’s okay. And whatever that creature was is gone. And Nyankichi is a very smart cat.”

Shigeru feels himself relaxing, too. Warmed by the relief and love in Touko’s face, and by Takashi, tousled and whole in their arms. He holds them close and says, “You were right. Just wait to tease me until after I’ve had a drink, please.”

“We’ll see,” she says magnanimously, and kisses Shigeru on the cheek, and Takashi on the forehead, and Nyangoro right on the nose. “Let’s go home.”

It's the cat's turn to looked shocked, but after saving their son it will have to do a lot more than simply talk for them to turn it away now.