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"Natori-san."
"Hmm?" Natori, teacup in hand, looked up from reading through a script. He placed his cup and the binder he was holding down on the living room table, giving him a smile.
"What is it?"
Natsume, who'd already put his own file and notebook away, braced himself. Then he retrieved the gift from his bag.
They'd spent a quiet day together at Natori's apartment, talking and working over tea. Evening had set in, and the sky was darkening. Soon it would be time for him to head back to the Fujiwaras'. He'd nursed an undercurrent of nerves all afternoon, purposely waiting as long as possible to do this. Just so he could excuse himself and leave quickly, if necessary. In case things somehow got awkward.
He knew he was being silly, and how unlikely that scenario was. Natori would be kind, even if he didn't particularly like it, and probably happy. Who knew, though? He'd never made anyone else a present before. And in Natori's case, he still couldn't decide whether or not this made sense. Natori's professional contacts and fans surely gave him magnificent presents every year. Or maybe they treated him to nice meals, or trips, or whatever else adults did that cost large sums of money.
None of those things were possible for a high school student, of course. But he'd still wanted to do something, even something insignificant in comparison.
"Here," he said, tentatively holding it out.
"What's this - for me?" Natori asked. He took the small brown envelope from Natsume and looked at it curiously, glancing back at him. "May I open it?"
"Yes, please do," Natsume said.
They were sitting side by side on the sofa. Now he watched Natori carefully lift the flap of the envelope, which had simply been folded in, and take out the object inside. He held it in his long fingers, turning it back and forth as he peered at it.
It was a neatly laminated strip of cream-coloured paper, several centimetres wide, onto which a single flower, bell-shaped and vividly blue, had been pressed. A dark green tassel had been knotted through a small hole punched into the top.
"A bookmark?" Natori's voice held a note of puzzlement. "Made with Japanese paper, I see. It's very pretty, but why?"
"I made this in school recently," Natsume said. He took a deep breath. "Happy birthday, Natori-san."
Natori's eyes widened. He looked at the bookmark, and back at Natsume.
"How did you know? I don't think I've ever told you before."
Natsume looked away awkwardly, scratching his head.
"...It says so in most of the magazine interviews you've done," he said at last. "But I, well. I didn't think of it until recently, and there wasn't enough time to save up for anything, but then we had this paper-making and flower-pressing assignment for art class. And I remembered that you like paper, and you like books, so..."
"So you made this for me?" Natori asked quietly.
"I made others for Touko-san and Shigeru-san too!" Natsume quickly clarified. "But - yes. I wanted you to have this one."
"It's lovely," Natori said. His words came out slowly, as if was searching for what to say. "You didn't need to, though."
"It isn't much," Natsume mumbled, studying his hands. "I just wanted to give you something you could use."
Natori fell silent, running a finger over the smooth surface of the bookmark.
"A gentian," he said, half to himself. He slipped his present back into its envelope and laid it on the table. "Did you choose this particular flower for me, Natsume?"
"I - I felt like it suited you," Natsume hedged.
"How so?" Natori persisted.
Natsume coloured slightly. "If you know, you don't need to ask."
"I'm not entirely sure I do," Natori said gently. "Besides, I'd like to hear it in your words." He reached out and took Natsume's hand, smiling faintly. "Won't you tell me?"
Natsume, not meeting his gaze, produced a rambling, halting anecdote about how he'd read, in a book their art teacher had passed around to help them choose which flowers to press, that gentians apparently symbolised solitude and sincerity, as well as affection for people who possessed those qualities.
"Though, er, I wasn't sure. How reliable that information was, I mean." He paused, and continued. "Except for the bit about how the roots and stems are used in Chinese medicine."
Another pause. "But anyway, Touko-san grows gentians in her garden - they're all really beautiful now, and she let me cut some. She said they're an autumn flower, so...I thought they would be nice? For a birthday in November."
He glanced at Natori, who gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.
"And, uh. I can't explain it, but. Something about the blue ones just reminds me. Um, of you, that is."
Natori, unable to suppress a chuckle, leaned over and kissed him.
"Thank you," he said, his eyes very soft. "I'll look forward to using it. I'll start tonight, in fact."
"Don't mention it," Natsume said, shyly. "I'm sorry this was all I could do."
"No one's ever done anything like this for me before," Natori told him, his voice low. "You don't know how happy I am, Natsume. That you thought of me -"
He broke off, and tightened his grip on Natsume's hand, tugging him into a close embrace. Natsume, almost giddy with relief, relaxed into it.
/Some flowers take more time to bloom,/ Touko had said, smiling, when he'd asked her if gardening was difficult. /So you just have to be patient and careful when you try growing them. I think you'd be good at it, Takashi-kun./
Natsume shifted in Natori's arms. He rested his cheek in the crook of his neck, just above where the curve of his collarbone emerged from the soft wool of his sweater. He knew he ought to be going; he'd have to call home and apologise for being late, if he missed the next train. But he didn't want to move.
Just a little longer, he thought. Just a while more. Something was blooming here, warm and bright and sweet. He'd need to water it often.
*
リンドウ (rindou)【竜胆】
Gentiana scabra var. buergeri
Korean/Japanese gentian. Hardy perennial. Blooms in the southern part of the Japanese archipelago - Kyushu, Shikoku, Okinawa - on hills and mountainous areas. Purplish-dark blue flowers in a bell shape with brown spots on the inner side of the petals. Blooms as individual stalks of blue flowers, sometimes thought to symbolise a solitary, melancholy person; may carry the further sense of "loving you despite your sorrow". Also reputedly connotes justice and sincerity.