Chapter Text
Ren’s having a good day. He’s with friends he hasn’t seen in ages, fresh out of watching a movie that was equal parts romance and thriller (with a dash of supernatural) and deserved all the accolades it had been getting. They all decided to get ramen and were taking the twenty-minute walk (there were ramen places closer, but the only place really worth going to was far from the theater). They’re crossing the bridge under the bluest sky they’ve had in a long while when he sees someone that stops him cold.
It’s Natsume. He’s leaning against the side of the bridge, looking out into the river so only his side profile (and a strange cat…statue?) is in view, but it’s definitely Natsume. He’s impossible to forget - both in looks and demeanor, there was no one else in the world like him. And he looks the same as he did back in elementary school. He’s taller now of course, a little less skinny, and face sharpened by the masculine edge boys get as they turn into men, but the rest of him is the same. He’s still got that silk-thread hair, that otherworldly air he wears like a coat, and that thousand-yard stare that peers - Ren cranes his neck to look where Natsume is looking - into nothingness. Natsume is impossible to forget, not just because of his looks and demeanor, but mostly because of Ren himself.
He remembers soft-spoken Natsume transferring into their year and gone not even half a year later. He remembers wanting to know the new kid at first, then teasing him when he stayed closed off, then excluding him, then outright bullying him. And, for the life of him, Ren’s never been able to remember why he thought it a good idea to do such things. Natsume was a little strange, sure. A little quiet and confusing and gloomy. But more than that, he was sincere and earnest and endlessly kind. Ren can’t bring himself to find any reason he would look at a sweet little orphan and throw stones at his courage, both figuratively and literally, instead of just talking to him.
He’s a second year in high school now, still half a child, but also half an adult. He’s met people, fought people, hated people, and loved people. He’s learned and reevaluated and reflected and is better than he was all those years ago. He doesn’t know if he’s a good person yet, but he’s sure he’s a better one. So, naturally, Ren has thought about Natsume from time to time (by which he means all the time) and has always ended his musings with the certainty that he was going to die with the guilt from those days inside him.
His friends notice his distraction and turn from their dismantling of the movie to see Natsume in plain view. From the sudden stillness and sharp breaths, Ren knows they, like him, have never forgotten Natsume. He wonders if this is fate - the friends he’s with today are all from his elementary school, all people that knew Natsume (because everyone knew Natsume, same class or not), all people that poked at Natsume’s wounds. He’s sure there’s old classmates that don’t think about Natsume, that are more cruel than kind, more selfish than thoughtful. But Ren isn’t friends with those people anymore. The three friends he’s with now, the only ones he’s kept since elementary school, are like him in that time and age had been cruel to their cruelty and kind to their empathy.
There’s nothing they can possibly do other than walk by him. They’re already a quarter of the way through the bridge, far enough that it wouldn’t be anything but awkward to turn tail and run. So, the question is whether or not they acknowledge him. Would talking to them bring Natsume more undeserved pain? Would he even remember them? If he did, wouldn’t it be worse to just walk by and ignore him?
Ren’s greatest weakness is his indecisiveness, but he doesn’t have to make a decision because Aoi, who’s become kinder but no less bold, strides right up to Natsume with a determined gait, leaving Ren, along with Emi and Souta, no choice other than to scramble after her.
“Natsume-kun!” she calls. The boy in question starts a little and then turns to them with polite confusion in his eyes, and Ren knows he doesn’t recognize them.
“It’s Aoi,” she continues blithely, more courage in her pinky finger than Ren has in his whole body. “Yamamoto Aoi. You might not remember me, but I - we” she corrects, waving her hand to all of them. “Went to elementary together for a while. I wasn’t in your class, but Emi and Ren were.”
Emi says a small, shy hello to that, while Ren just nods. Natsume’s face trades confusion for recognition and wariness. Ren’s positive the cat is in fact not a statue now, because it suddenly turns to them and bristles, trotting along the railing to bump against Natsume’s arm, who only gives it an affectionate scratch behind his ears.
“I remember now,” he says mildly.
“We saw you standing here,” Aoi states, as if that were anything but immediately obvious. “So, I wanted to come and say sorry for the stupid and honestly just shitty things I said, because I’m not sure I’ll ever get the chance to again.” So saying, she dips into a bow, deep and quick enough that Ren’s sure it’s a habit formed from her time in the karate club.
Natsume’s face shatters into surprise at that, which Ren supposes is fair.
Emi gives a, more shallow but no less sincere, bow from behind Ren and says, “I want to apologize too. I said a bunch of ridiculous things before and I just - well they were ridiculous. And untrue. And I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
Souta rubs the back of his neck with his hand and sheepishly adds, “I said shit too, but I also did worse than that. I-” he sighs then, looking weary, nothing like someone in the peak of their youth, before dipping into a bow as well, hair blocking his eyes. “I’m really sorry. For everything. I know it doesn’t take anything back, but I’m really, really sorry.”
Natsume’s eyes are wide and shining with - Ren isn’t sure what, actually. Something complicated.
“I,” he pauses for a second because he’s not exactly sure what he wants to say, everything he’s been holding inside him twisted and chaotic and dark, but he has to try. “I was an asshole.” The cat snorts as if it understands him and Natsume’s lips jerk up in response, to him or the cat he isn’t sure, but it’s not a bad thing either way so he barrels on.
“I did a lot of things that I can’t take back and I don’t deserve forgiveness. I’m not even sure I deserve the chance to apologize, but you deserve the chance to hear sorry. And I really am, Natsume. I’m sorry for being a moron and an asshole when you never even did anything to me.”
He dips into a bow as well, as deep and quick as Aoi’s, and he realizes with some chagrin that he can’t throw stones at her because he clearly has his baseball habits driven into him. He supposes anything can become a habit if practiced often enough and wonders if he’ll ever be in the habit of being kind. He hopes so.
Natsume’s face is soft and open, and the smile he gives is gentle and content. Ren remembers one moment Natsume had a similar smile, the day Ren wasn’t being stupid and just honestly complimented Natsume’s jacket, but even that smile pales to the one has on now. Maybe it’s because it looks more real, like it’s worn often enough that his mouth remembers its shape.
“I do. Forgive you, I mean.”
“I-what?” Ren blurts out, the rest of his friends looking as shocked he feels.
“You were kids. I’m not saying it’s an excuse really, but kids can be dumb, but they also grow. And you did, clearly. So, I forgive you, and I think I understand now, what you were really trying to do.”
Ren feels embarrassingly close to crying and swallows hard to choke it down. Natsume’s eyes bore into his and Ren realizes the look he’s been wearing wasn’t really complicated at all. It’s just a bit of wonder and a bit of understanding.
“And thank you,” he adds.
“Why would you thank us for apologizing?” Souta says incredulously.
Natsume tips back his head and laughs. Ren marvels at the sound of it.
“It just doesn’t happen often. Or at all really. Well, there’s one person who’s tracked me down and apologized, but-” Natsume shrugs. “I used to think I didn’t need apologies from anyone for anything, but it’s…nice to hear it.”
Ren just smiles back at him, feeling that knot inside him loosen and untangle a bit, even though he doesn’t think he deserves anything like forgiveness quite yet. He’s still pretty sure he’s going to live and die with the guilt, but he has a feeling it’s going to be more of a gentle reminder now, to not give up before even starting.
“We,” Aoi says, sudden and loud as she always is. “We’re headed out to get ramen. Would you like to join? Our treat, of course. And no pressure.”
Ren thinks Aoi should run a class on how to talk to people or how to take initiative or how to be brave or something. He makes a mental note to tell her so and to sign up if she ever does.
Natsume looks a little hesitant for a minute, but then his cat snorts and bumps his head against Natsume again, before turning to them with something like acknowledgment gleaming in its strangely intelligent eyes. Natsume smiles down at it and then back up at them.
“Only if I can get something for him too.”
“Eh? Wouldn’t ramen, like, kill a cat or something?” Emi says as they start walking, the question looking startled out of her. Natsume grins at her, just a tad mischievous.
“I promise, he’s even stranger than he looks.” The cat yowls in protest but Natsume just shoots that same smile down at him.
“You know,” Souta pipes up. “I’m glad no one else saw us. With all that bowing, it probably looked like some kind of cult initiation.” Natsume lets out another bright laugh at that and Ren knows now that he was wrong. This Natsume is silver and green and strange too but looks and acts nothing like the boy Ren used to know. Ren’s glad for it - it means Natsume has some good in his life now.
The brightness follows them to the ramen stand and later to the train station, where they leave Natsume, but not before gaining a new phone number and a new friend.
“Natsume,” Ren calls out as the boy steps in the train, causing him to pause and turn. “I’m going to do better. I’m going to be better.” Ren knows he’s not really making any sense right now, but Natsume smiles at him like he knows what he means. Natsume smiles at him like he believes him.
(Ren is going to be better, he is. He wants to deserve Natsume’s forgiveness.)
They stay on the platform until the train’s moved off and then Aoi suddenly spins around and faces the rest of them, brimming with infectious joy.
“Today,” she says, in a tone that says it’s a fact and not an opinion, “is a great day!”
Emi just laughs and hooks her elbow through Aoi’s, pulling her away as Souta and Ren follow behind. No one rebuts her, because what else could they possibly say?
Ren gets one last look at the train as it rounds the bend and smiles at the bluest sky they’ve had in a long while.