Touko wished that Natsume would trust them.

Trust—it was a fickle thing, one that could be destroyed by a single word or a single action.

Touko had done everything in her power to avoid ruining Natsume's trust. She loved him and fretted over him like a mother would. She did not know, however, if he saw her as such.

That was what scared her the most. Was she a good enough mother for him? She didn't know. She'd never been a mother before.

"Thank you for the food," Natsume murmured after their dinner, eyes skittering about like a cornered prey. He seemed distraught, dark bags under his eyes and hair in disarray.

Touko frowned, studying his thin frame critically. "Won't you have a little more, Takashi-kun?"

"No thank you," Natsume turned her down politely. He stood up and pushed the chair in, looking around the room all the while.

Touko followed his gaze but saw nothing.

—

"Takashi needs to put on some fat," Shigeru commented casually, slipping on his jacket and heading for his shoes. "He never seems hungry."

"I can't help but wonder..." Touko's lips were pressed into a thin line, hand clenched on her chest. "Did his previous foster parents..."

She trailed off. She did not finish her sentence, but the way Shigeru averted his eyes told her that he knew what she meant.

—

"I'm home, Touko-san!"

Touko smiled warmly, stepping out of the kitchen to greet her son. "Welcome home, Takashi-kun. How was your test?"

"Pretty good." Natsume adjusted his book-bag's strap and reached down to pat Nyanko-sensei's large head. "Good thing I studied for it last night."

"Crammed it all in last minute, you mean," Touko laughed, taking his bag from him. "I never took you for a procrastinator, Takashi-kun."

Natsume carded his fingers through his hair with an awkward but endearing smile. Touko was struck by how much he resembled a scolded child—he had always seemed wise and mature beyond his age. Sometimes she forgot that he was just a teenager.

"I'm proud of you, Takashi-kun," Touko said, suddenly choked up. "I'm really proud of you."

She hoped he heard the underlying meaning of her words. She wasn't just proud that he got a good grade on this test—she was proud that he was her son. That he accepted her as his mother.

He smiled again; it was bright and radiant and seemed to light up the entire room. She knew, then, that he understood.