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Today would be the second time Takashi celebrated Touko’s birthday with the Fujiwara couple, and Shigeru had given him money to go shopping for a present. Takashi’s own birthdays had often been forgotten, moving so often from family to family that he’d never had time to make friends, let alone have a party. But this last year, he’d found out what it was like to have people he cared about with him as he gained another year. And it was that kindness that had him wandering around the local farmer’s market, searching for something that could show how much that meant to him. How much both of them meant to him.
This would be the longest he’s lived anywhere since his father was alive. As the memories of his parents were more or less nonexistent, the Fujiwara couple’s tenacity to put up with Takashi was even more profound. They’ve endured days where his eyes followed people they couldn’t, indulged comments that made no sense, held vigil by his side as he fell bedridden to yet another fever, encouraged every extra bite of food he took, and gently soothed away insecurities as they appeared.
When their anger showed, it was not due to his… eccentricities . They never punished him for shouting when a demon poked their head in the door or window, demanding his attention. Or when he stopped to read the figures painted on the ground and walls that their eyes glanced over without comprehending. Or got fed up when he violently woke in the dead of night from another nightmare, screaming at things they couldn’t fight off.
It was only when Takashi stayed out all night without telling them where he was that Touko sat him down to lecture him. Or the few times when Shigeru needed to remind him about manners when Takashi forgot to tell them he was leaving, or where he was going. But, even then, it was not the same type of anger that he’d dealt with from his other relatives. It didn’t come in the form of harsh words, cruel phrases, or from the stinging of flesh against flesh. It was gentle, an early spring rain that drowned him in Touko’s concern, in Shigeru’s calm conviction, in their love and care for him.
Humans, in Takashi’s experience, were inconsistent. They would react to something one way, but the next time, they would react quite differently. But it didn’t matter what Takashi thought, it never changed how every morning Touko would hand him his lunch, a smile on her wrinkled face. It didn’t stop the Fujiwaras from providing him with new clothes or coats when his old ones no longer fit, or from giving him his own rice bowl, or his own tea cup. It never prevented them from asking about his day or how his classes were going. They always took care of him when he fell ill with fever and was confined to his bed, a cool water bottle as a pillow and a wet towel draped across his forehead. They fed him warm soups and medicine, and encouraged him to rest and recover. The love that Touko and Shigeru offered Takashi was a stability that he had never known, and one that he was afraid to let himself indulge in.
The time he had completely destroyed the bedroom, Takashi had been sure that was the end. That this was the most they could put up with from him. How could they ignore the damage he’d brought, the cost it would take to repair the broken doors, windows, and walls? But all he’d received was a gentle touch to his head, fingers spreading through his hair, and Shigeru’s gentle reminder that this was his home now. That Takashi wasn’t leaving unless he asked to.
That reassurance had frightened him more than any anger could have, as he remembered living with other people who had gotten upset for far, far less. That Takashi hadn’t seen the kindness coming was upsetting. Demons and spirits were much more predictable to him.
“Oi, Natsume,” a high, whining voice pleaded in his ear. A voice that either sounded like a cat’s yowl or an old man, depending on who was listening, or on Nyanko’s mood. “Squid! They have fried squid! Buy me one!”
Takashi hummed, redirecting his steps to buy two sticks of fried squid. Biting into the one for himself, Nyanko climbed higher on his shoulder to take the other one between two paws, greedily digging into the greasy snack. Now this , this was something familiar. Predictable. Safe .
Nyanko was an inherently selfish creature, mostly concerned with making sure he was given food, sake, and opportunities to display his own superiourity. While always making sure to voice his complaints about Takashi’s insistence on returning demons’ and spirits’ names to their owners, Nyanko never deliberately stepped in to stop him, and often protected him when a demon overpowered Takashi. He would curl up close to Takashi’s side on the nights when nightmares got the better of him, and would force Takashi out of his room on the days when the world became too much to handle.
Nyanko also went out of his way to drag Taki or Tanuma (or both) to Takashi’s side, and then pretend he had nothing to do with it. Others might consider that deceptive behaviour untrustworthy, but it was the exact opposite to Takashi. Takashi could count on Nyanko to do the same things again and again. Nyanko never changed, and Takashi preferred that. It made him secure enough to snap back at Nyanko when he was being ridiculous in his demands, or merely sigh when Nyanko snuck his way into Takashi’s travel bag once again, or to not be frightened when he woke up in the middle of the night to the sight of the gaping maw of Nyanko’s true form as he sought food even in his sleep.
Takashi couldn’t get very far from the Fujiwara house without Nyanko popping up to follow him, which didn’t bother him at all. It was comforting, and it was easier to hear other humans whispering about Takashi’s penchant for carrying his cat everywhere than to hear them whispering about him talking to thin air. While it was a different oddity, it was an oddity that other people could see , so they couldn’t call him a liar for it.
“Did you find a present for Touko’s birthday yet?” Tanuma asked, falling into step with Takashi as he moved down the makeshift aisles, scanning the displays. Tanuma had a bag of food slipped over his forearm, plastic handles caught in the crook of his elbow to keep his hands free.
“I don’t know what to get her,” Takashi said, his brow furrowing. Nyanko had finished eating his own squid on a stick, and so Takashi passed him what was left of his own, knowing that would pacify the demon for a while longer while he searched. Bright stuffed toys, clothes, and ornaments hung from ceilings, hand-crafted wares were displayed on cloths and shelves, and cheerful craftsmen beckoned each passerby for a closer look.
“It’s coming from you,” Taki chimed in, linking her arm with Takashi’s on his other side. Takashi stumbled for a moment, jostling the cat sitting on his shoulder. “She’ll love it no matter what.”
“That doesn’t make finding something any easier,” he said, exasperation coming through in his tone. Taki laughed, a sound that he could tell was still out of practice, but was becoming more and more natural for her. Her own arms were empty of bags or treats, having only tagged along to keep the two boys company while they shopped.
“You’re thinking about it too hard!” she said. “It’s quite simple: get her something she can use. Like… hairclips! Or plates!”
“A spice rack?” Tanuma added, pointing at a stall filled with wooden furniture and knickknacks. There was a spice rack sitting on one of the shelves, carved from a rich, reddish wood.
“You could get her a picture frame,” Taki said, pointing to one at another stall. Takashi groaned, his head tilting to rest on Tanuma’s shoulder. “Didn’t you guys take pictures with each other recently?”
“You could always put the picture of your parents in there,” Tanuma added, his voice lower. “They wouldn’t object to that.”
“Make a family photo frame,” Taki insisted. “Touko would be delighted.”
So that was how Takashi ended up sitting side-by-side with both Taki and Tanuma on Takashi’s bedroom floor, photos spread out around them as they tried to pick five that would go into the frame.
“Do you think the Fujiwaras have a wedding photo?” Taki asked, and Takashi shrugged.
“Probably.”
“Go ask Shigeru. He might even have other pictures you could use to add variety,” Taki insisted, and so Takashi went in search of Shigeru. The older man was in his office, some papers strewn out on his desk, along with a few books, as well as a brightly-wrapped present beside a mug of coffee.
Once Takashi mentioned what he was doing, Shigeru had him sit down in his office and they both went through a box of old photos the couple had collected together during their long marriage. There were several wedding photos, a few of vacations they’d taken together, a couple of Touko working in the garden or caring for stray animals she’d brought home, Shigeru in suits and other formal attire. It was overwhelming, but Shigeru’s soft voice talked Takashi through picking a couple of them out.
“These will make her happy to see every day,” Shigeru said to Takashi, reassuring him in his deep, soft voice. “Do you need another copy of the one we took last spring?”
“No,” Takashi assured him. “I have that one.”
Takashi also mentioned the photo of his parents. A photo that he’d never thought about sharing with the Fujiwaras before. The surprise on Shigeru’s face had Takashi doubting the idea, but the smile that followed it threw him off-balance once more.
“She’s always wanted ‘family’ things of her own to show off. She will love the idea of including your parents as a part of that.”
When the frame was finished, Takashi offered Tanuma and Taki the chance to stay for dinner, but they both declined.
“We don’t want to intrude. It’s a time for family,” Tanuma insisted. Taki nodded her agreement. Takashi felt his heart pounding at the thought.
The present for Touko was tucked away in the hall closet, Shigeru promising that she wouldn’t find it there until Takashi was ready to give it to her. Which, according to Shigeru, would be happening after dinner. Takashi and Shigeru had both taken over the meal prep for the day, allowing the older woman to spend her birthday unburdened with chores or cleaning. She had protested at first, but gave in quite easily after Shigeru kissed her on the cheek before breakfast, whispering a soft reminder that it was her birthday and they could handle one day without her cooking.
Dinner had Takashi in a mess of nerves. Nyanko, oblivious to Takashi’s tension, devoured his own bowl happily while the humans worked their way through dinner, Touko chattering on about her day out with her friends. Takashi didn’t mention his own day spent outside, how his own friends had guided him through the enormous task of gift shopping, or how they had helped him put together the gift sitting right around the corner out of sight. When the last plate was cleared, Shigeru cleared his throat, catching Takashi’s eyes.
“Now that we’re done eating, we both wanted to give you something.”
Takashi stood up so fast his chair clattered, and murmured a swift apology as he rushed to the closet, opening it and crouching down to uncover the brightly-wrapped package. Shigeru’s present was also hidden away in the closet, which Takashi grabbed in his other hand. Toeing the door shut, he brought both packages back to the table, presenting Shigeru’s first. Takashi’s own present to Touko he rested beside the table, too large to place on top of it while the dinner dishes were still there. Touko unwrapped the smaller gift, gasping in delight as inside a box was nestled three train tickets and a pamphlet.
“I know you’ve been wanting to go, and I thought the three of us could make a weekend of it, have a proper family vacation,” Shigeru said, as Touko took out the pamphlet and opened the glossy cover to look inside. It was for a hot spring resort that was rather far away, a luxury that Takashi knew the couple didn’t often indulge in.
The three of us. A family outing. Shigeru had included Takashi in that. By the smile on Touko’s face, she wasn’t at all put off by the thought of Takashi coming along. Of being included.
She’s always wanted ‘family’ things of her own. That seemed to extend to more than just pictures.
The nerves came back as Touko reached down for the second present, Takashi’s palms growing sweaty and his body trembling as the paper was pulled back. Touko took in a sharp breath, her eyes widening as the pictures came into view, protected by thin panels of glass that allowed all who gazed upon it to see the different photos displayed.
In the center was the one the three of them (four, if you counted Nyanko cradled in Takashi’s arms) took in front of their house last spring. Above that was a picture of Shigeru and Touko on a vacation they’d taken when they were younger, and below was a picture of Takashi at the cultural festival in his apron. Placed to the left was the wedding picture of the Fujiwaras, and to the right was placed the well-worn, creased photo of Takashi’s parents.
Touko’s fingers hovered over that picture, not quite touching the glass as she mouthed her thoughts. Misty eyes looked up at Takashi, the question unable to pass her lips. He nodded, his own throat tight, and the smile that formed on Touko’s face had Takashi’s head lowering to hide his tears behind his fringe.
“Do you mind if I hang this in the entrance?” she asked. Takashi smiled, almost feeling it reach his eyes.
“Please,” he said. His chest felt so full, heat spreading through his body in a happiness he couldn’t recall ever having felt before.
Takashi insisted on doing the dishes himself, letting Touko and Shigeru retire to the living room to have tea. The picture frame rested in Touko’s lap, and she tilted the frame toward her husband. Takashi could hear her voice carry to him, soft and delighted.
“Shigeru, look at our family. Aren’t we beautiful?”
Nyanko brushed against Takashi’s legs, staring up at him with knowing eyes as he bent over the sink to stifle a sob.
“We are.”