notes/warnings

+ this is the final chapter of GPT.

+ warning for illnesses, and really big geese.

Part Twenty Two

Natsume groans and rolls out of bed. His eyes hurt and his brain feels woolly and useless. He tries to get up three times before he manages to succeed, and he shuffles into the kitchen miserably.

"You have a fever," Touko diagnoses, passing Tanuma the rice. "A bad one, I think. You shouldn't do anything today."

Natsume tries to smile for her. He is intensely aware of Tanuma, sitting right across the table. He knows what Tanuma does, and he spends the entire meal tensed up, waiting to for his head to suddenly clear, waiting for his physical pain to be replaced by the pain that is hurting someone you love more than the world.

And yet, Hikari was right. Even in these difficult times, being together is still better than losing Tanuma.

They finish up at the table, and Tanuma and Natsume retreat to Natsume's room.

"I want to heal you," Tanuma says, as soon as they're alone. "Is that okay with you?"

He's asking, Natsume thinks, feeling a little bit better. This is what happens when Natsume starts being honest with people; he gets honesty in return.

"Can you not?" Natsume asks. "How painful will it be for you if you don't heal me?"

Tanuma shrugs and averts his eyes.

"If you're more comfortable with being sick than with me healing you, then I will respect that," he says. "That's enough for me."

"Thank you," Natsume says, gratefully.

He kisses the top of Tanuma's head, mimicking the method Taki uses to express gratitude. Tanuma grins up at him.

"I'll stay and look after you, okay," he says.

The next day isn't so easy. The spirit called Misuzu bursts into Natsume's room in a wave of tiny bouncing frogs.

"Lord Natsume, I need your help," he says. "There is a team of powerful rat-demons threatening the forest."

"Can I handle it?" Tanuma asks him soberly. This is a very serious moment, and not the time to get all excited about talking to a really huge spirit.

"I need Natsume for this, newcomer," Misuzu tells him. "Natsume, I believe the leader of the rats is in the Book of Friends. It won't take long. What are you doing in bed at this hour of the morning?"

"He's sick," Ponta says.

"I can handle it," Natsume says, getting clumsily to his feet.

"Not like this," Tanuma says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you go out like that. You'll be in too much danger. Whoever goes should be healthy, and whoever stays can handle the fever."

Natsume chews on his lip.

"That's pretty good reasoning," he says, reluctantly. "But I hate the thought of hurting you."

"Well, I'm happiest when you're well," Tanuma says, smiling brightly. "This won't really hurt me at all. A fever is nothing."

"Then it's fine," Natsume says, folding his arms. "But, can we always talk about this before you do it? I feel better when we do."

"I promise," Tanuma replies.

When Tanuma is better, Natsume visits him at the temple. He brings cakes, and Nyanko, and his Book of Friends, and he sets all three out on the floor in front of Tanuma.

"This is my last real secret," he says. He doesn't feel at all emotional. He trusts Tanuma. "It used to belong to my grandmother. It's a powerful artefact, and it draws spirits to me. It also gives me some power over them, but only if I can use it correctly."

"You could have kept it a secret," Tanuma says, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I know that Misuzu mentioned it the other day, but I wouldn't have asked."

"I know," Natsume says. "That's why I'm telling you now."

"You're kidding, right?" Nyanko demands, shaking one tiny fist in Natsume's face. "When you said you had something important to say to him, I thought you meant something really important. The Book of Friends is old and boring. Nobody cares about that any more!"

"I care," Tanuma says. "What did you want us to talk about, Ponta?"

"Important stuff," Nyanko continues. "The last day of school is tomorrow, idiots. I want to know if Tanuma is going to live with us or not!"

Natsume freezes, immobilised by shock and embarrassment.

"Shut up," he says, trying to cover Nyanko's treacherous mouth with his hands. "You have no right to ask Tanuma that."

"It's our future," Nyanko growls. "I don't want to live with just one useless human if I can have two. That's twice the snacks and twice the meals, and Tanuma already knows how to cook for himself. I hate not knowing whether something is going to turn out to be good or bad. I want to know!"

"It's okay," Tanuma says, but he looks flushed. "I-"

"Please don't say anything," Natsume tells him, quickly.

"What's your problem?" Nyanko demands, gesticulating wildly.

"If we make Tanuma answer that question now, he'll feel obligated to say yes," Natsume explains hotly. "That's how human conversation works. He has to bring it up on his own, without prompting from us."

"But then I'd feel like I was pressuring you," Tanuma points out.

Natsume pauses. He hadn't considered that.

"Obviously we want you to live with us," Natsume says, very quietly, just in case Tanuma didn't already know. "But that doesn't mean you should, or that it's right for you. Think about it, and tell me some other time, okay? When Teacher isn't shouting at you."

"Okay," Tanuma replies, and Natsume can't even bring himself to look at Tanuma's expression.

This is too important.

Natsume sits on the cold, bare floor, and watches the dust motes glitter in the sunlight. The view is unremarkable. This place is old and dusty and abandoned-looking. There are small spirits here, just busy balls of fluff nesting in the corners and on the rafters. Sometimes part of a really enormous spirit passes through the bathroom.

"I know it seems scary," Touko had said when she dropped him off. "Just remember that we're only a short drive away."

"I'm proud of you," Shigeru had added.

Maybe this was a mistake. Touko and Shigeru are the only family he has left. Everything Natsume owns is in boxes, and he can't bring himself to even begin to unpack. Because everything Tanuma owns is also here, in boxes, and it seems far too easy for Tanuma to just pile them back into his car and drive away again.

Tanuma and Nyanko went out to get food a while ago. Natsume is supposed to be cleaning, but he feels sick to his stomach and tiny, dwarfed by this unfamiliar place. He's worried that even if things are good here, his love for Tanuma will eventually crush him alive and ruin everything.

Natsume checks his phone. One message from Taki, saying simply 'don't worry'. Taki knows him far too well, but she can't really understand. She moved into her new house a week ago, and is living exactly two streets away from her parents. Also she's sharing with three other girls and six cats.

It isn't the same.

Tanuma has been gone a long time. Natsume wonders if maybe he's realised his mistake, and he's just left without coming back for his things, in order to save face. Natsume wouldn't blame him. Natsume has always been the weird one, the one that nobody wanted. He isn't sure why he ever thought that would change.

"I'm home!" someone announces dramatically from the generally direction of the kitchen. The someone sounds suspiciously like Nyanko with a mouth full of food.

For a moment Natsume doesn't move, straining his ears for any evidence that Tanuma has returned, too. He can't see the entrance from here and, if he never looks, he will never have to deal with the fact that he has been abandoned.

There is a dull thud, followed by several more thuds, followed by the sound of a large blunt object being dragged around. Nyanko finds Natsume, and drops a bag full of fried rice at his feet.

"I got a small size for you and a large size for me," he crows.

"We won't be buying food all the time," Natsume tells him, trying to force himself to feel normal. "I'll have to cook, most of the time."

"Tanuma can cook," Nyanko declares. "You don't make edible food."

"Tanuma might cook if he's here," Natsume agrees, evasively. "But otherwise you'll have to put up with my attempts. I'm sure I'll get better."

"Hmm," Nyanko says. "Maybe you should go and help Tanuma."

If Tanuma needs help, then Tanuma must have come back. Natsume ends his conversation with Nyanko abruptly, and jogs his way to the kitchen. He finds his best friend standing amongst the boxes, looking as soft and as handsome as ever.

"Hey," Tanuma says. "Sorry I took so long. I saw this on the way, and I had to buy it."

Natsume goes to say 'I'm glad you came back', and then changes it to 'I'm glad you're here', and then pauses again with his mouth open, trying to decide if it's okay to say 'I'm scared and I don't know what is going to happen and I don't really understand my feelings right now'. And then he settles on 'I really need to talk to Taki sometime soon'.

And then he suddenly realises what Tanuma is talking about. He recognises the thing that is currently occupying half of their tiny kitchen, and clashing with literally everything else in the room including the dust.

And the thoughts in his head and the words in his mouth dry up and grind to a deafening halt.

Oh.

Natsume just sort of stands there, staring at the table, and Tanuma is rapidly reaching the conclusion that this was a bad idea. It's true that they haven't discussed it in weeks, but he figured that if it still meant something then Natsume would be happy, and if it didn't then it would be a useful piece of furniture to have around.

It is, after all, just a green plastic table. It doesn't have to be symbolic. One way or the other, Ponta will probably break it in a few weeks.

"Do you remember this?" Tanuma asks, gently. "We used to talk about it."

Natsume doesn't say anything. He doesn't even make eye contact.

"I guess it was kind of just a joke," Tanuma continues, feeling defeated. "I thought it would be funny to actually get one, and they were really cheap."

The silence is broken only by the faint noise of Ponta munching in the background. Natsume still doesn't react.

"I have the receipt," Tanuma offers, desperately attempting to fix whatever problems he has caused. "I can just take it back, if you want."

A few more seconds pass.

"You don't even remember, do you?" Tanuma asks. "I'm sorry."

Natsume seems to snap out of his daze. He looks straight at Tanuma, with absolute clarity in his sand-coloured eyes. Tanuma shrinks under the intensity of his gaze.

"I love you," Natsume says.

Tanuma opens his mouth and then closes it again. His mind shifts into overdrive, desperately trying to attach some sense to the words that are coming out of Natsume's mouth.

"What?" he says, in a rush. "No. You. Hold on. I just."

"I love you," Natsume says again, warmly.

He doesn't look frightened or stressed. He looks perfectly at peace with the universe. Ponta crunches something loudly, and then gulps noisily. There is no fanfare, no duress. Nobody is rushing forward to announce that this is a joke. Tanuma wonders if there's something wrong with him, because his heart is on the ground and his head is a mess and everyone else seems to be comfortably waiting for him to catch up.

Tanuma knew – knew, for sure and for certain – that Natsume didn't return his feelings. That fact was a foundation, along with the green plastic table and the universal constant that is Taki Tooru, upon which Tanuma built his home. Tanuma would have bet his life on Natsume not returning his feelings.

Tanuma's hands begin to shake. Of course he wanted to be wrong about something like this. Of course he's dreamed about vague notions of the two of them being together. But Natsume is standing in their kitchen pronouncing those words, and the fundamental crack that has just materialised in Tanuma's world isn't going to disappear the next time he wakes up. The world has changed. Or the world had always been different to what he thought, but suddenly that difference is being revealed to him.

Tanuma may never stop shaking.

It occurs to Tanuma that he's supposed to respond. That is how a confession works, when nobody is actively trying to die during it. Tanuma looks down at the corner of the table that is separating him from Natsume. It's an easy obstacle to navigate, given how tall they've both gotten recently.

"Thank you," Tanuma whispers, such empty pathetic words against the enormity of this moment, and leans across the table to kiss Natsume on the cheek.

He's taking liberties now. He's never kissed Natsume before, not even platonically. Tanuma is desperately scared of getting this wrong. And then Natsume goes and turns his head at the last second, sliding his forehead against Tanuma's, so they're face to face and Tanuma is pretty sure Natsume can see directly into his soul.

Okay, Tanuma figures this is okay, too. It's not like he was particularly attached to his nerves or anything.

"Welcome home," Natsume breathes, and Tanuma kisses him gently on the mouth.

Tanuma pulls away after about half a second – always a gentleman about everything – and Natsume follows him, buoyed by the joy that his settled firmly in his heart. He will be annoyed with himself, later, for taking so long to say what he needed to say. He'll be irritated with himself for not realising the obvious, and angry with himself for making Tanuma wait so very, very long.

But right now he just moves, half-crawls up onto the table in a blind and determined effort not to let Tanuma's face get too far from his. And this is what the table is for, after all. It's a trophy to show that they have a life together now, and Tanuma didn't forget, and Natsume still has that scrap of paper squirreled away in a box somewhere.

My god, we're actually doing this.

"Is this okay?" Natsume asks, because Tanuma looks a little faint.

Tanuma nods rapidly, about thirty times in a row. Natsume laughs and strokes the dust from Tanuma's shaggy hair and pulls him gently down into another kiss.

Natsume could drown, doing this. Tanuma is literally perfect, and Natsume feels giddy and weak and amazed. Everything is actually okay.

"Lord Natsume? Mister Tanuma?"

Tanuma jerks in surprise, and Natsume hugs him tightly before pulling away and turning around. The turtle spirit from the forest is standing in the centre of their kitchen, looking worried and vaguely confused.

"That's us," Tanuma says, softly.

"There's a very big goose spirit in the forest," the turtle bleats, gesticulating unhelpfully.

Natsume tilts his head.

"And?" he prompts.

"It's really big…" the turtle explains, awkwardly.

"Sounds like a job for the fabulous Nyanko and his human sidekicks," Nyanko announces, waddling into the room heroically.

"Give us five minutes," Natsume agrees, slinging his arm around Tanuma's narrow shoulders. "We'll help you out."

end

a/n

+ I could not have written this fic without the help of my amazing, talented beta. they probably won't want me to name them here, but you will know if you meet them because your life will be instantly better for it (just like Taki Tooru).

+ I am so grateful to all of you for sticking with this fic and reading. thank you so much. I hope real life treats all of you very well.

+ sort of considering writing some short offshoot stories in the same universe as GPT. if I do they'll probably go on my tumblr. :)

+ thank you

+ thank you