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Nanami Kento has a mole on his neck, that is what Satoru’s mind decides to fixate on.
It’s there, hidden under his shirt, right on the pale skin of his shoulder, but Satoru remembers it. It’s the spot where he used to kiss when he hugged Nanami, where he hid his face after a difficult day, letting Nanami brush his fingers, so tender for someone like him, through Satoru’s hair. It’s the spot he used to bite when Nanami was inside him, where he used to bite when they were spent side by side and Satoru wanted to be a little shit, back when Nanami tolerated it.
His mind is fixated on it because otherwise it will shift to what came after, and if Satoru thinks about it now he’ll break right here in the middle of Hokkaido. It’s easy to remember the good things too, the time when they seemed to have everything. So, Satoru focuses on the way Nanami’s shirt moves, on that spot that he used to claim as his.
“Are you listening?” Nanami asks. His expression is of annoyance, but Satoru can see worry in his eyes.
“Yeah, you were saying something boring.” Satoru smiles and turns his head to the side the way he knows Nanami finds obnoxious.
This, he thinks, is the worst part of it all. What are you supposed to do with all the knowledge you have of someone after you break up? How do you purge your mind of every detail it has memorized?
Nanami sighs. Satoru wonders if it’s their mission that wore him down or it’s this, this theater they are putting on right now. Pretending to be just two men sitting in a cafe, about to discuss business, pretending they don’t know each other inside out. He wonders if Nanami is feeling the same agony as him right now, if Nanami still remembers the moles and marks on Satoru’s body and dreams of the days he used to touch them.
For a terrible second Satoru considers asking him. He considers leaning forward on the table, smiling at Nanami and saying Do you still think about how much you loved to bite my thighs? Just to get a reaction out of Nanami.
“Sukuna’s vessel,” Nanami takes a sip of his coffee, crosses his legs like a man about to discuss stocks. Satoru hates him.
“Yuuji. His name is Yuuji.” Satoru corrects, tone harder than it needs to be. “I need you to take care of him while I’m away.”
“I’m not a babysitter.”
“No, but you’re the only one I trust with this.” Satoru concedes because the faster he does it the better. Staying this close to Nanami feels like death. “You’ve always been such a responsible adult, Nanami.” He adds, only because he knows Nanami will find it weird if he doesn’t tease.
Nanami, however, doesn’t take the bait. He looks at Satoru, stares openly in a way only he knows how to. Once upon a time Satoru hated those looks, or rather, hated that he didn’t know what they meant. Nanami had been so difficult to read, back then. Now he knows too well and wishes he could go back to that blissful ignorance. Life was so much easier when Nanami Kento was nothing but just another underclassman.
“I suppose I can do that.” Nanami says at last. There’s understanding in those words, in the way Nanami doesn’t say anything else. Of all the things Satoru always loved about Nanami, that was the first, that Nanami always knew when to shut up. “I’m curious about him.”
“Ah Nanami, you’ll love Yuuji!” Satoru smiles, the first good feeling of the day blossoming in his chest. “He’s a sweet kid, too optimistic, but I guess that’s because he’s so young. So full of life too! You know, he reminds me of–”
He stops himself in time and the silence lingers.
Sometimes, when Satoru can’t sleep, he wonders if things would have been different between him and Nanami if Haibara and Suguru didn’t exist. He closes his eyes and imagines a world where there are not two ghosts between them. But those thoughts never live for too long in his mind because he can’t imagine himself without Suguru and, as much as it pains him to admit it, he can’t imagine Nanami without Haibara.
In a way it feels like fate, like they had been destined to find their soulmates, only for life to take them away too soon. It was fine in the past, though, because Satoru and Nanami had each other. Now the whole concept feels flawed, broken beyond repair.
Nanami sighs again, though this time it’s something heavy and painful. To anyone else it would be a sign of tiredness, but Satoru knows him too well, knows that it still hurts. And as always he hates Nanami for that. It’s been so long, why is he still hurting? Why was that kid so important? Why does Nanami never act like that because of Satoru?
Because you’re alive, he thinks. Nanami would act like that if he died too, Satoru knows. And a little perverse part of his brain wishes he could see it, that he could see Nanami break for him and only him.
Nanami finally takes pity on him and breaks the silence. “I’ll be in Tokyo on Monday.” He gets up, buttons his suit and bows just slightly. “See you then, Gojo-san.”
His coffee is left half empty over the table. Satoru is left behind too, but he doesn’t think Nanami cares about that.
-
It was a game they used to play, a couple of years ago.
Nanami pretended he didn’t know he wasn’t being followed and Satoru pretended he wasn’t following his ex. They danced around each other like this for months, Satoru watching from a distance as Nanami lived his mediocre life as a salaryman and Nanami pretending that life was what he wanted.
( “He’s good, though,” Satoru told Yaga for what must have been the thousandth time that month. “I don’t understand how you just let him walk out. Didn’t even put up a fight.”
There was a beat of silence in which Yaga looked down at his tea mug. “I could say the same about you.” It’s what he said at last and Satoru gritted his teeth. Yaga sighed and took a sip of his tea. “I think you know we can never force people to do what we want them to do. He wanted out, so we let him go. He’ll come around, eventually.”
“Of course he will.”
“I meant, to the job.”
Satoru smiled. “Me too, sensei.” )
It was a game they used to play, or Satoru thought they did. He never said a word to Nanami, never explained the rules, but he thought he was winning somehow. Still, Nanami beat him on it. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, of course, for Nanami always understood everything Satoru did and what he didn’t do, had him figured out from the first time they talked.
They were in some residential neighborhood, Megumi and him. Satoru killed a particularly strong curse, letting Megumi deal with the few witnesses who had survived, a group of teenagers. It was always the thing he liked the least out of the job – the non-sorcerers, their cries and confused faces, their weakness. Satoru would protect them to the end, but that never meant he had to like them.
He left the building without a word, trusting Megumi would talk to the kids. He wasn’t a particularly communicative boy or the type one would want around after a traumatic event, but he was already miles better than Satoru on dealing with the aftermath. I already carry everyone around here, Satoru had complained once to Yaga when he was a teen, don’t ask me to play psychologist too.
Nanami was a block away, staring at the building. His hands were balled into fists and Satoru could feel his cursed energy and the distinct energy he always felt from other sorcerers – the need to fight, to feel release after killing a curse.
“Oh, hello there, normal people of the public.” Satoru stopped on his tracks, body stuck in place. “Nothing to see here, just some construction problems. You can go on with your ordinary life.”
“You left Fushiguro there.” Was what Nanami said. Years without even seeing each other and that was the first thing he said. Satoru hated him for the scolding, envied Megumi for being the focus of Nanami’s worry – and how low was that?
“I already took care of the curse, he’s there with some kids who were inside.” Satoru shrugged. He wanted to tell Nanami that this kid was just like his father, that he wouldn’t be killed that easily, that Satoru was raising him to be strong, but the words didn’t come out. Nanami was staring at him and Satoru couldn't think of anything else. “What the fuck are you even doing here, anyway?”
Nanami looked away. “I was on my way home and I felt– I thought– I didn’t think anyone would get here so fast and I know there’s a park where children play until late over there so…”
Satoru laughed, something bitter and from deep within his soul. “So now you care about kids?” He asked. “They didn’t matter before, all the hyphothetical fucking kids you wanted to save, but now they do.” He felt off kilter, as if he had been treading on the verge of a cliff and Nanami just pushed him down. He laughed again. “You can’t stay away, can you?”
Nanami didn’t look embarrassed, he looked tired. Exhausted to the bone. Satoru had never seen him like that, not even after Haibara. This was a different type of sadness that was eating him away and all Satoru wanted was to reach out, caress his cheek and kiss him senseless.
“It’s worse than drugs, isn’t it?” He insisted when Nanami didn’t speak. “I mean, I never used anything, but you work in finances or stocks, don’t you? You might have tried some, right? But this,” he pointed at the building where Fushiguro was still talking to the kids. “This is a rush better than anything you’ve ever experienced. Because there’s no better feeling than to kill a curse, to know that this world is fucking shit, but at least you’re stronger than something. That there’s something you can control.”
Nanami stared at him and for a moment Satoru feared he would walk away. If he did, would Satoru run after him? Would he still cling to his stupid pride and let Nanami go yet again? He didn’t know.
Instead, Nanami took a step forward. “You’re right, it’s worse than drugs.” His voice was serious, but also tired, hurt, angry, nervous. So few words, so many different meanings attached to them. “But I’m not coming back.”
Satoru wanted to laugh. So many years and Nanami still hadn’t changed. It was comforting in a twisted way. Life would go on, but Nanami Kento would never change his stubborn ways. So many years and he was still the boy Satoru fell for.
“Then don’t.” Satoru said because what else was he supposed to do? Then, he took a step forward and smiled when Nanami didn’t move. They had always been like this, moving towards each other slowly, but without any hesitation. “But you still want a rush, don’t you?”
Of all the things Nanami could do he did what Satoru least expected: he grabbed Satoru by the collar of his uniform and pulled him close. So many years and getting closer to Nanami still made Satoru’s head spin. In that brief moment he thought about all the curses and about everyone who wanted him dead; if only they knew his one weak spot could be found inside a fancy building during work hours they would all laugh at how pathetic Satoru was.
They were so close Satoru wondered if Nanami would kiss him there, but what he said instead was even better: “How fast do you think you can take me to yours?” He asked, voice firm, eyes clear.
Satoru smiled, all wide and predatory. “Close your eyes, baby, don’t want you to get dizzy.”
-
It wasn’t a relationship, not like they had in the past.
Back then Satoru made an effort, tried not to be better, but at least a decent human being. They went on dates when they were teenagers, concerts and movies and a visit to the Skytree after it was closed because they could. They spent hours together at night, Satoru’s head on Nanami’s lap while he read.
Now they met when Nanami had time after working himself to the bone, not as much as Satoru wanted, but with enough frequency that the word casual didn’t quite describe their arrangement. When Nanami was frustrated he went to Satoru and they fucked in a way that was almost impersonal, when Nanami was angry he went to Satoru and they fucked until he forgot his problems.
But the best was when he was tired, when he went to Satoru and they didn’t fuck at all, but lay together in bed in silence and Satoru knew it meant something. It had to, because Nanami never did anything without intention behind it.
They were in bed, both only in their underwear and it should be weird because it was too intimate, but it wasn’t. The lines between them had been crossed years ago and this was still the rippling effect. It should annoy Satoru, how everything about them moved so slowly, but he found solace in it; they moved not with the speed of comets, but of stars – it would take ages until Satoru noticed their death. The night was too warm and Satoru wanted to turn the AC on, but Nanami always liked the breeze and so all he did was open the window.
“You know I never did drugs, right?” Nanami asked out of the blue and Satoru laughed.
“Yeah Nanami, I know.” He replied, still laughing. “You’re too boring for that, anyway.”
To his surprise Nanami chuckled and something ached in Satoru’s chest.
“You’re right, I am.” He turned to Satoru and he still had a faint smile on his lips. “I–” Nanami stopped. He didn’t need to say anything.
“I know.” Satoru leaned closer and kissed him, slow and gentle. When Nanami touched his hair he almost cried. “I know.”
“I’m still not coming back.” Nanami whispered between kisses and Satoru hated him for it. To be so sweet and still hurt him that much, over and over again. “I’m not.” He kissed Satoru again, fingers gripping his hair. “It’s final.”
“I know.” Satoru repeated. He then pushed Nanami and rolled so he was on top, looking down at Nanami. No one had the right to be that beautiful. “But baby,” Satoru bent forward and kissed Nanami again. “Only death is final and you’re not dead yet.” He kissed Nanami’s jaw, behind his ear, the mole on his neck. “This is just an interlude.” He pulled away and looked at Nanami, tracing his jaw with a finger. “I just want you to know that when you’re done pretending it isn’t I’ll still be here.”
“Of course you will.” Nanami touched his arms, chest and hips. “You don’t have anywhere else to be.”
It should be cruel, it was cruel and Satoru knew it, but it didn’t hurt as much as it should, not when Nanami was the one to say it. He didn’t deliver it in any mean way, he was stating a fact. Nanami could escape to a normal life, but Satoru would be tied to the jujutsu world forever. If anything it was as if Satoru was hearing it from himself. Nanami had always known him best.
He chuckled and kissed Nanami again. “And neither do you, but I’ll let you think you do. For now.”
Nanami didn’t say anything. Instead, he flipped Satoru over and kissed him again. It wasn’t a relationship, not in the way they had in the past, but it was something and Satoru wouldn’t fool himself thinking he didn’t want it. Anything Nanami wanted to give him, he would take it, anything Nanami said, he would accept it.
Anything so he could prove that Nanami would never be able to leave, not really, not fully.
-
Their second end – he has to call it that because a breakup would infer a relationship and they weren’t in one, not this time – came on a cold night when they were both under the covers, Satoru hiding his face against the crook of Nanami’s neck.
“What do you want for your future?” Nanami asked, voice serious.
Satoru knew something was wrong just by hearing Nanami’s voice. It should scare him, to know someone like this, to be so sure things were about to change because of a different tone to his voice. But it didn’t, not as much as it should. He always knew Nanami best, anyway. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I don’t think about the future. What’s the point, anyway? My life will always be like this.”
He tried not to sound so bitter, but voicing it made Satoru feel tired. He was the strongest and that meant it would take a long, long time until he died and until then this would be his life: teaching kids, fighting curses, being surrounded by death. Every single day of his life would be the exact same, as if he was stuck on a time loop.
If only Nanami would stay with him, Satoru thought, he could handle it.
“Don’t you want anything else?”
You, I want you. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but Satoru couldn’t bring himself to speak them, not after the first time Nanami broke things off with him, not after Nanami came back into his life but didn’t bother talking about anything. Nanami never did things without meaning behind them, after all.
“I don’t know.” Satoru answered instead. “I’ll go crazy if I think too much about the future.”
Nanami hummed. “We should stop seeing each other.” He said then, not without warmth. “I want to have a future.”
Satoru should have pulled away, but didn’t. Nanami should have pushed him away, but didn’t.
“And I’m the big obstacle on your way to your glorious future.” His words were bitter, but he still kissed Nanami’s neck with all the sweetness he had in himself. Nanami shivered and Satoru closed his eyes, decided to remember this detail for the rest of his days. “Taking money from rich people and looking at spreadsheets for the rest of your days.”
“It’s a good, simple life.” Nanami sighed. “It’s better than to watch people you care about die.”
Satoru couldn’t fight him on that one, could he?
He rolled to the side, away from Nanami. His body felt cold now. “Leave, then.” He looked to the wall, afraid of looking at Nanami and breaking, begging him to stay. “Go back to your simple life if that’s what you want so much.”
Nanami left (again) without saying a word.
-
It wasn’t a game, not at first.
Suguru would laugh at him, he thought. He would chuckle in that condescendant way of his and say something like, “It was just a couple of months, Satoru, you can find someone better.” Because, no matter what, he was still kind in his own way. He would listen to Satoru, chuckle, and offer to go out with him to find something or someone better to do.
But Suguru was not there, not anymore, and Satoru could go to Shoko, but she was too realistic these days. She had never coddled him, not really, but now it would be worse and Suguru was fed up with reality. He wanted lies and dreams, not to be reminded of how things truly were.
His closest companion was a kid whose father he had killed, how sad his life had become.
So, he started showing up at places where he knew Nanami would be -- across the street from his favorite bakery, on the corner of his job, at bars Nanami went with his coworkers. They didn’t talk, they didn’t even acknowledge each other, but Nanami knew he was there and for a while it was enough.
( It was how things started between them, anyway. Satoru needing Nanami’s attention and Nanami giving it to him. )
Until it wasn’t. Because seeing Nanami and not touching him was torture, but also because he noticed Nanami’s eyes started to linger on him, taking longer and longer to move to something else.
Nanami trailed out of the restaurant after his coworkers, all drunk except him. He looked as sober as ever, watching as they entered their cabs. He turned to the dark alley, body relaxed.
“I know you’re there.” He spoke to the darkness. “I know you’ve been following me.” His voice was neutral, but his words were tinged with annoyance. “Come on, Gojo, show up. I don’t have all night, I have to work tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday.” Satoru stepped into the street light, stopping in front of Nanami.
“And I have to work.” He repeated. When Nanami looked at him from upclose it wasn’t with hate as Satoru had expected. He didn’t seem angry, but didn’t seem particularly happy either. For a moment they didn’t speak, only staring at each other. Nanami looked thinner, but his eyes were still bright and he was still the most beautiful person Satoru had ever seen. He may have smiled at his own thought, because Nanami raised an eyebrow before leaning forward. “Is this what you want?” He asked.
Satoru nodded, not trusting his own voice. When Nanami kissed him, he whimpered, hands gripping Nanami’s shoulder. It was like when they were teenagers, one kiss from Nanami and Satoru felt his whole body shake. Satoru always imagined their first kiss as adults, after years of seeing each other – because in his mind it was inevitable that they would end up together again – would be frantic and desperate. Instead it was slow, one of Nanami’s hands on his waist and the other on the back of his neck, holding him in place.
“I–” he tried to speak, but Nanami interrupted.
“No.” He pushed Satoru back, towards the alley. It was far too late and the street was empty and Satoru knew right away how things would end. “Don’t say a word, I don’t want to hear.”
When Nanami pressed him against the wall Satoru whimpered again, biting his own bottom lip to stay quiet, afraid that Nanami would leave if he made any noise. Nanami kissed his jaw, his neck, bit the tender skin without care for the aftermath, just the way Satoru always liked.
They pressed close to each other and by the time Nanami touched him over his pants Satoru was already so desperate he moaned against Nanami’s lips, unable to control himself. Nanami opened his pants, didn’t bother to push them or his underwear down. He only shoved his hand into Satoru’s underwear and stroked him like that. He stopped and Satoru was about to beg when he noticed Nanami’s hand closer to his face.
“Spit.” Nanami said, voice stern. He didn’t look affected at all, although Satoru knew he was and it only made Satoru want him even more. He spitted on Nanami’s hand and hid his face on the curve of Nanami’s neck, thinking about how that was his favorite place to be.
When he was finished Nanami pulled away, staring at him. Satoru leaned against the wall, staring back. Nanami looked down at his own hand, sighed and opened his own pants with his clean one. There was nothing much attractive about the gesture, if anything it was a bit awkward, but Satoru still trembled at the sight, memories of their teen years in his mind. Nanami had been awkward back then too, although it always came laced with fondness, not with sternness.
“Well,” Nanami said, voice cold. “You came after me for this, didn’t you?” He was holding himself with his clean hand and Satoru smirked. “Do what you want.”
Satoru fell to his knees with a thud and without a word. They weren’t necessary between them anyway.
After, Nanami left without a word, without even saying goodbye, but he still kissed Satoru with far more sweetness than the situation needed and that was how Satoru knew that he hadn’t let go of their past either. The way he touched Satoru’s cheek was still too tender for what they did, still too intimate for two people who only cared about sex.
It wasn’t the beginning of a relationship, not in the way they had when they were teenagers. But it wasn’t indifference and Satoru could work with that – preferred it even. It was a confirmation of some kind and Satoru would see it through, would tease Nanami until he gave more. That had always been the base of their relationship anyway, Satoru taking and Nanami giving.
It wasn’t the beginning of a relationship, but it was the beginning of something, so Satoru made a game out of it.
-
“So, what do you think?” Satoru falls into step with Nanami. “Isn’t he a nice kid?”
“He is.” Nanami looks straight ahead, as if he’s in a hurry to get to a mission and not just on a trip to the nearest vending machine. He is tense, Satoru can sense, but doesn’t say anything.
( In another life he would’ve touched Nanami’s shoulders right here in the open, pressed against his flesh and leaned close to whisper against his ear: “Want me to help you with this?” Nanami would turn his head, always so calm, raise one eyebrow in a challenge and whisper back “Later.” And every time, every single time, Satoru would shiver. )
They stop by the vending machine but Nanami doesn’t make any mention of getting his wallet. He stays there, looking at the drinks, and an outsider would think he’s indecisive and choosing what to drink, but Satoru knows him better; Nanami has never been indecisive a day in his life. He’s not even there now, not his mind, at least. He’s somewhere else, with someone else. It’s not Satoru, he knows, but it still hurts. Even now, doing something so mundane, Nanami is thinking of that boy.
“You were right, Gojo-san.” Nanami finally reaches for his wallet and Satoru can see the slight tremble of his fingers. He wants to reach over and hold them, tell Nanami things will be fine, but that would be a lie. “He is like Yu.”
There it is, the name Satoru can’t bring himself to say. Nanami says it in such a reverent way, with so much care, so much love it makes Satoru shake.
The words come before he can stop himself because this is who Satoru is, if he can’t have something then he’ll destroy it. “Then let’s work hard so Yuuji doesn’t have the same fate as him, yeah?”
The can falls inside the machine with a loud noise. It echoes through the hall and through Satoru’s ears. Nanami turns to him, takes off his glasses and Satoru wants to run away. He should apologize, he knows, he should say something, fix it, but he’s Gojo Satoru, he was made for ending things, not keeping them together.
“Yes, Gojo-san,” Nanami replies, voice calm but eyes anything but. In that moment he hates Satoru more than anything and a twisted part of Satoru’s brain likes it. He’ll take hate over indifference, he’ll take anything Nanami wants to give him, that’s how desperate he is. “Let’s.”
He leaves without a word. Satoru bends down, takes the can from the machine, opens it and takes a sip. The soda is sweet, but his mouth still tastes bitter.
-
Satoru wants to run when he hears the news, but he forces himself not to. First, he checks on Yuuji because that’s what a responsible adult should do and then and only then he seeks Nanami. He knows Nanami would complain if he knew Satoru came to see him before the boy, even though that’s Satoru’s first instinct.
Another reason why he doesn’t deserve Nanami, he thinks. Because he’s selfish like this, to put his love before a hurt child. Satoru has always been like this and Nanami always overlooked it, but that was before. Now Nanami would sigh and worse, look at him with nothing but disappointment. It’s part of why that Takuma kid is always around him, Satoru thinks. Because Nanami is a true mentor, the type who knows how to offer guidance, always the adult, always the protector.
If Satoru truly, really thinks about it, it’s part of why he wanted to date Nanami back then; he was sure no one else would protect his heart as much as Nanami. He just forgot, or didn’t know back then, that giving someone the chance to stay close to protect you means giving them the chance to hurt you as well.
Nanami doesn’t look bad – he’s standing, so he can’t be that hurt – but Satoru’s chest still aches. He curses his own lack of mentorship in life, of having someone to tell him that heartache hurts as much as a hit from a curse. He always had so many adults telling him what to do, teaching how to hone his skills, but not a single one ever warned him of the perils of falling in love. So many years spent with different people and not a single one ever prepared him for Nanami Kento.
He stops by Nanami’s side, unsure of what to say. Nanami doesn’t acknowledge his presence, but Satoru sees the way his body tenses.
“That first grade curse is dangerous.” Is the first thing Nanami tells him. “If it wasn’t for Itadori-kun I would’ve died.”
Satoru doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t even want to imagine a world where this can happen. It’s stupid, they are jujutsu sorceres after all, they were all made to die gruesome deaths, but still. Anyone but Nanami.
“I’m glad he was there, then.” Satoru tries to make his voice sound neutral and has to ball his fists so Nanami doesn’t see the way he trembles.
“I’m the adult, I should’ve been the one to protect him, though.” Nanami is not wearing his glasses and Satoru sees the way his eyes are glossy, maybe too tired, maybe about to break.
“You did your best, Nanami. You two still came back, that’s good.” Satoru chooses the safest reply possible, one that doesn’t go into past traumas. Just for once he wants to be here, in the present, even if it hurts. At least Nanami is alive.
“I suppose you’re right, Gojo-san.” They stay silent and Satoru feels almost relaxed. He can close his eyes under his blindfold, feel the sunshine on his skin as he and Nanami stay side by side. Right now it’s enough, it has to be. “Do you remember?” Nanami breaks the silence. “There,” he points at a tree in the distance. “You asked me to be your boyfriend there.”
Satoru nearly chokes on air.
If he remembers? Satoru wants to laugh. He has every detail about that day in his memory, from the way his heart was beating so fast when he walked to Nanami to the way he couldn’t stop smiling when Nanami accepted to be his. Sometimes, when Satoru is feeling particularly cruel towards himself, he revisits that memory, unable to move on, holding on to it as if nothing else could keep him on this earth. He knows that when his time comes and some curse strong enough kills him, that will be the last thing he’ll think about. The way Nanami Kento, who always looked so serious, smiled at him when he said I like you, Gojo-senpai.
Still, what he says to Nanami is: “Ah, Nanamin, you’re getting old!” Satoru tries to chuckle, but makes a choked sound instead. “Remembering the past every time you have a near death experience won’t end well for you.”
Nanami snorts. “Maybe I am.” He stays silent for so long Satoru fears that’s the end of it, but when he speaks it’s with a softness Satoru almost cries. “We were so happy that day, weren’t we?”
We could be happy now, Satoru thinks, but doesn’t say it. “We were very happy, yeah.” He agrees, heart aching. “Why…” he begins and stops himself.
“What?” Nanami is now looking at him and Satoru wants to run away.
He thinks about that mole on Nanami’s skin and raises his hand, about to reach out when he stops himself in time. Satoru doesn’t know what he would do if Nanami denied him the touch.
“Why did you fall out of love with me?” He asks, voice shaking. His hand remains in the air in between them and Satoru imagines how pathetic he must look like this. Nanami stares at him with so much pain Satoru hates himself for causing it. “You don’t need to answer, that was a stupid question, forget I ever–”
Nanami holds him by the wrist and brings his hand down. His touch burns Satoru, but Satoru won’t be the first one to let go, he’s selfish like this. “I never did.” He replies at last, like it’s easy to talk about their feelings. “I still love you.”
Satoru shakes. It’s not fair, he wants to tell Nanami that, that he says it like this. Nanami is supposed to be the adult there, he should lie, say something generic like routine wore them out or something. That’s what happens with normal people, isn’t it? Not everything has to be a tragedy, sometimes relationships don’t work out and people move on. That’s what Satoru wants to hear, not the truth.
“You can’t,” he begins. “You can’t say that.”
“I can’t lie either.” Nanami is still holding his wrist, a gentle touch that makes Satoru feel bad. If only Nanami was violent, this Satoru could understand. “I still love you, but…”
Satoru lets out a bitter laugh. “There’s always a but with me.”
“It hurts.” Nanami finishes his sentence and when Satoru looks at him he looks as broken as he sounds. “Not me, but you. I can’t love the way you need and the way you deserve. You always hurt so much, Gojo-san, even if you never say a word, and I wanted to be a solace to you, but I couldn’t, not after–” he stops and Satoru knows Nanami still can’t say it. So many years and he can’t. “I didn’t want to be yet another burden to you.” He sighs, looking away. “You were right, though. I can’t stay away.”
It’s not fair. Satoru always got blamed for everything. Being born with the six eyes, being so strong, not taking things seriously, letting so many people die, not trying enough, not caring enough. Every person he ever met in the jujutsu world blamed him for one thing or another, but here is Nanami blaming himself for things beyond his control.
Nanami lets go of his hand and they stare at each other. Satoru wonders if anyone were to find them now, what they would think. Would they understand the importance of this moment, between the two of them?
“I wasn’t there today,” he says at last. “But I’ll be there for you next time. I’ll protect you, Nanami.”
“You–”
“You were never a burden, Nanami.” Satoru interrupts. “You never were and never will be a burden to me. I’ll protect you next time because I choose to. Not because you’re weak, but because you’re precious to me. If you can’t give me your love at least give me this, alright?” He smiles, sincere and vulnerable in a way he knows he can be only with Nanami. “You came back, that’s enough for me.”
It has to be.
Nanami still doesn’t look happy with it, but Satoru knows him, knows he’ll never be. He is not the type of person who will accept protection; he’s the opposite, the type who will try and protect others, who sees his ability as an obligation rather than a blessing or a curse.
“Alright then.” Nanami says at last. “Be there next time.”
If Satoru can’t have anything else, then he’ll have this. If he can’t pretend he cares about the fate of the world or whether other people live or die, he’ll do it for Nanami. The strongest sorcerer in the world and yet everything he does is out of love, how mundane.
-
Haibara wasn’t the end of their relationship, not really.
Satoru still counts it as such, though. It wasn’t the end, but it was the beginning of it. Nanami saw him for who he was: a teenager who happened to be too powerful, who didn’t understand the world. Satoru had resented Haibara back then, had hated him even. He was doing so well, holding Nanami’s hand all around the school, sneaking into his room at night, stealing kisses between classes; how dared that kid die and ruin his illusion of a normal life?
“He needs you,” Suguru said, his own eyes full of sadness. Haibara was something for him too, after all. “He’s alone now.”
“He has me,” Satoru replied, voice serious. Because it had to be enough, right? He had to be there for Nanami and he intended to be.
But Satoru didn’t understand grieving, didn’t understand the loss of a best friend, didn’t understand the trauma. Haibara wasn’t the end of their relationship, but his death changed things in ways Satoru couldn’t understand. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault, they were kids, left to their own devices most of the time. They weren’t prepared for anything that happened, not emotionally, at least.
And then Suguru left.
His Suguru, whom Satoru loved and needed and thought he could always count on. Maybe, had they been different people, Suguru’s absence would have united them, made them understand that they now only had each other. It wasn’t the end of their relationship either, but it accelerated whatever process Haibara’s death started.
They stayed together out of habit, out of not knowing the right time to end things, but they were never alone. Satoru replayed Suguru’s words in his mind, tried to make sense of his friend’s change, tried to think if the signs were there from the beginning. When? He wanted to ask Suguru, when exactly did I lose you?
When they looked at each other Satoru could see the hate in Nanami’s eyes, the disdain. You understand me now, don’t you? Nanami’s eyes told him. Good, now both of us are suffering.
Satoru understood him, but it was too late for it to mean anything.
-
Maybe at first it had been a way of getting to Nanami, the comparison. What did Satoru know of Haibara, anyway? His memory is selective and as far as his teenage days go he would rather remember other things – Nanami’s warm, hesitant touch on his hand, the way Nanami relaxed into his arms the first time Satoru slept in his room, Suguru’s laugh, Shoko’s rolling her eyes at everything they said – he doesn’t have space in his brain for much else.
( Or maybe, maybe he doesn’t want to remember Haibara as the kid he was. He wants to remember Haibara the ghost, the one who broke his relationship with Nanami into a thousand pieces. It’s so much easier to blame the dead for his mistakes than it is to own up to them. )
Yet, he wasn’t wrong when he said Yuuji reminds him of Haibara. His excitement, his lively aura, the way he smiles so easily, like the world never took anything from him.
( Yuuji has lost so much already and he still laughs. Satoru wonders what Haibara lost, what he hid behind his cheerful behavior, wishes he cared to ask back then. )
They are watching a movie, a terrible action one that has more explosions than plot, but Yuuji is so enthralled by it Satoru can’t help but admire the kid for how easily he can be distracted from the real world. He wishes he could be Yuuji’s age again, sweet and impressionable. Except he was never like this, was he? Satoru knew who he was from the moment he was born, there was not much time to be a teenager like the others.
“Sensei?”
Satoru blinks back to reality and finds Yuuji staring at him.
“Yeah?”
“I’m curious about something.” The movie is still going, but Yuuji has shifted his full attention to Satoru. “Nanamin. You two have been friends since you were my age, right?”
Satoru nods, stiff. ‘Friends’ doesn’t describe what they were and what they are, does it? They were nothing and then they were everything, all in such a short span of time Satoru’s head still spins when he thinks about it. But how could he explain to Yuuji why talking about Nanami hurts? He already burdened the kid with so much of the jujutsu world, he doesn’t need to add his own past to it.
“So, how was he as a teenager?” Yuuji asks, embarrassed. “I can’t imagine him as one. He looks like he was already born an adult.”
Satoru can’t help but laugh. “I’ll let you know that he was very much a teenager.” Satoru replies. “At least physically. Mentally I think he was eighty years old when he was born.” Yuuji grins at him and Satoru smiles back. Such a good boy. “Nanamin had this long bang – why he thought it looked good, I don’t know – and he never smiled, just like now. But we still had fun together. We went to the movies and we even went to a L’arc~en~ciel concert once–”
He remembers now, their first date. They went to the movies because like Nanami had predicted Satoru wanted to kiss him in the dark. Satoru doesn’t remember the movie, and doesn't remember anything but the way Nanami sighed before they kissed five minutes into it. The way he held Satoru’s hand and rested his head against Satoru’s shoulder because he knew, the little shit he was, that Satoru liked those cheesy acts even though he pretended he didn’t.
He remembers dragging Nanami to the concert together with Suguru, Shoko and Haibara. He remembers Nanami’s unimpressed face when Satoru told him he had gotten them tickets away from the others so they could be alone. Nanami knew Satoru would do that before Satoru did it, because Nanami always knew him so well. Not the six eyes or the most powerful sorcerer in the world, but Gojo Satoru, the teenage boy who wanted to go to concerts and hold Nanami’s hand when no one was looking – and maybe when they were looking too, he had always been possessive.
Nanami knew him so well back then, Satoru never experienced that, not even with Suguru. Sure, Suguru understood the burden of being the strongest, knew him in ways that were unknown before to Satoru. But Nanami knew him in the human sense, knew his wishes and his fears and his flaws, all thousands of them, and loved him all the same. Even before either of them could understand what love meant, Nanami loved him.
“Sensei, are you alright?” Yuuji’s voice brings him back to reality once again. “You kinda stopped mid-sentence here.”
Satoru blinks under his blindfold, focusing on the now. His eyes are wet and he opens his mouth in horror, realizing he almost cried in front of a student, and for Nanami out of all people – though if not for him, then for who? Satoru doesn’t even remember crying after Suguru.
“Yes, I was just…” Satoru gestures vaguely and Yuuji pays attention as even the way Satoru moves his hands can be some sort of important lesson. “Lost in my memories. You’ll understand when you’re older, Yuuji-kun.”
Yuuji chuckles, maybe pretending he didn’t hear Satoru’s voice crack a bit. He’s smarter than he looks, that kid. “Sensei, you’re not that old!”
He’s right, Satoru knows. Twenty eight is not a lot in human terms, but he has done so much, seen so much, lost so much he might as well be as old as Sukuna. Satoru ruffles Yuuji’s hair and smiles as he gets up.
“I wish Megumi was this nice to me.” He jokes as he leaves, feeling tired even though all they did was watch a movie. “You continue the movie, Yuuji-kun, I have to go somewhere.”
The door is almost entirely closed when he hears Yuuji’s shouting: “Tell Nanamin I said hi, sensei!”
A smart one indeed, that kid.
-
Their first end happened on a sunny, warm summer day.
Satoru could feel the sweat trickling down his back under his uniform as he walked around school, cursing the weather like never before. He used to like it, when he, Shoko and Suguru would go out for ice cream and walk around until it was too late and people on the streets gave them odd looks.
Now, Suguru’s absence was almost like losing a limb. Satoru could still feel his presence by his side, could almost hear his laugh. Nanami wasn’t there either, but in a different way. He looked hollow and most times when he looked at Satoru it was like he was staring right through him, searching for something, someone who would never come.
He was sitting in the training field and Satoru sat by his side, not saying a word. It was something that he always liked, that he never had to fill the silence between them with idle conversation. Nanami had always preferred to dose his words, make them matter when he finally spoke.
“I’ll leave when I graduate,” he told Satoru after a few moments of silence. “I don’t want to become a sorcerer.”
Satoru felt it like a hit from a curse.
“Leave?” He asked and laughed, a bitter and broken sound. “Baby, this is not a job you can leave. We’re in this shit for life.”
“Not me, I don’t want to. I refuse.” When Nanami looked at him, Satoru could see determination in his eyes. Nanami Kento, brimming with potential, would drop everything and no one would be able to stop him.
Not even Satoru.
The meaning of that finally dawned on him. Nanami was leaving the jujutsu world, which meant he was leaving Satoru too, for Satoru would never be able to walk away like him.
His chest ached and Satoru wanted to hold him, to beg him not to. I only have you, he wanted to say, and don’t you see, you only have me too. We need each other. But the words wouldn’t come out. Nanami was leaving him because of Haibara, he knew.
He looked away from Nanami, wanting to stop the conversation but knowing what would come next was inevitable.
“So…” he began, not sure of what he should say.
“We should break up, senpai.”
Satoru had prepared himself for it, but the words still hurt. He clenched his fists, wanting to punch Nanami. Maybe, if they fought, it would hurt less. Maybe if there was a physical wound to focus on he would forget how his heart ached. Maybe if Satoru bled he would forget the way he wanted to cry.
Instead, he laughed.
Satoru wanted to scream, to tell Nanami going away wouldn’t make his loss any easier, that he couldn’t run away from ghosts of the past – Satoru had tried that too, it didn’t work. He wanted to tell Nanami they should try to move on together, to support each other. He wanted to say a thousand different things, but in the end what he settled on was: “Fine, then.”
The sun shone bright on Nanami’s face when he got up. He was so pretty, Satoru wanted to tell him but there was a knot in his throat and if he tried to speak he would sob instead. He wouldn’t, couldn’t allow himself to show weakness, not even to Nanami.
“Fine, then.” Nanami repeated before leaving like Satoru meant nothing to him, like their year together had no importance. Maybe it didn’t. People always said first loves never lasted and teen years were not the most important of one’s lives. Maybe Nanami already knew that, already understood that there was life to be lived after heartbreak.
They barely saw each other after that day, Satoru made sure to avoid him at all costs. It wasn’t difficult, not when he could always ask for more missions, and convince Yaga-sensei to send him far away for long periods of time. By the time winter came Nanami was nothing but a memory.
Or so Satoru kept telling himself.
-
The first time Satoru had visited Nanami’s apartment he didn’t know what he was doing. Nanami had left the jujutsu world two years before and Satoru still felt his absence like an open wound, but refused to cave in. He wouldn’t be the one crawling back, begging Nanami to return, that was beneath him – or so Satoru thought at the time.
He didn’t beg, but he asked how Nanami’s new fancy job was going, made polite conversation until he could no more, until his fingers were shaking as he pressed them against his thighs, hiding them from Nanami’s view. He wouldn’t beg even though it was all he wanted to do. Instead, when Satoru left, he stopped by the door and smiled bright, remaining closer to Nanami as he spoke. “You’ll come back.” He had said, so sure, so smug. “You know you can’t stay away.” From me, was implicit, but he knew Nanami would understand.
Nanami didn’t say anything other than “Goodnight, Gojo-san, take care.”
He had always been so polite, so calm. But he still returned, as Satoru said he would. Even if it wasn’t for him, even if they barely saw each other – it was not like either ever needed company on missions anyway – Satoru still counted Nanami back as a win, a sign that he was right, Nanami couldn’t stay away from him.
Now, as he rings the doorbell, Satoru remembers Nanami’s words: I still love you. Only Nanami would be able to be so gentle even when he acts with so much cruelty.
“Yuuji-kun was asking about you earlier today,” Satoru says when Nanami opens the door. He doesn’t wait for an invitation, just passes by Nanami, takes his shoes off and walks barefoot to the living room. Once he’s seated in the expensive and comfortable sofa he allows himself to look at Nanami.
Sometimes, when Satoru thinks about Nanami he thinks about the boy who was once his boyfriend. His pristine uniform and longer hair, his boyish face and brighter eyes. Sometimes, he thinks about the Nanami from now, always dressed up, shoes shining like he won’t need to step on mud or blood, tie crisp against his chest. This, the Nanami from home, is too much for him. He looks different dressed up in sweatpants and a dark shirt, hair damp and reading glasses on his eyes.
“Was he?” Nanami asks, taking a seat on the other edge of the couch. He’s wearing black socks and one of them has a hole on the toe–
Satoru sits straight. “That’s my sock.” he points to Nanami’s foot. He’s sure of it because he remembers Nanami’s pained face when Satoru lent it to him on a cold day.
( “What?” Satoru had asked. “It’s just a tiny hole, it’s practically new!”
“Practically is not new.” Nanami sighed as he wore the socks. His clothes were wet after walking under the rain. “I’m sure the Gojo clan has enough money for you to be able to afford new socks.”
Satoru didn’t say anything. Instead, he climbed on Nanami’s lap, wrapping his arms around his body and hiding his face on the crook of Nanami’s neck. Nanami moved away for a moment when Satoru’s cold nose pressed against his skin, but soon was hugging him back.
“Buy me new ones then,” Satoru whispered against his neck. “How about that?”
“I can do that, if you want.” Nanami kissed the top of his head and didn’t complain anymore. )
“Ah.” Nanami looks down at his foot. “I didn’t notice, I can–”
It’s a lie, Satoru knows. Nanami keeps track of all his clothes, knows which ones are to be donated, which ones he has to throw away, which ones to dry clean. He knew which shirts Satoru used to steal too, pretending he didn’t because he always liked seeing Satoru wearing his clothes even if he never said it. He kept that old sock on purpose – how long has it been now? Two or three years since they have last been together in some capacity? That is too long to keep something like that, and yet Nanami did. Satoru wonders what else he kept, looks around the living room as if all things will show up.
There’s a picture sitting by the television. From where he is Satoru can’t see the details, but he can see the dark uniforms, one boy with his arm over the other’s shoulders, his smile wide and bright. A smile that would never change, would never have age marks. Forever innocent.
“Keep it,” Satoru smiles, or tries to. “At least now I know what to get you on your birthday.”
Nanami looks relieved. His body is not tense when he gets up. “Want to tell me what Itadori-kun asked about me over tea?” He gestures towards the kitchen.
Satoru also gets up. “Me? Telling on my students?” He asks, faking outrage. “The tea better be good, Nanamin.”
The tea is fine, but Nanami offers him sweets that Satoru shouldn’t be eating if he intends on sleeping, but does it anyway. Nanami doesn’t like sweets, that he knows, and the implication of the gesture tugs at Satoru’s heart.
“He’s going to die,” Satoru says, voice trembling. Whether because of what he just saw or still because of the realization that Nanami keeps pieces of him, he doesn’t know. “Yuuji-kun, I mean. That kid is going to die. He is so nice and caring and he’s going to die.”
Nanami stares at him, eyes unreadable for a second. “Nice and caring kids die every day.” He then sighs, vulnerable in a way Satoru knows he won’t allow himself to be in front of anyone else. It’s not the moment for it, but it makes Satoru feel special. “But I don’t want him to. Or any other of the kids, for that matter. So if you ever…”
“No.” Satoru interrupts. “I don’t want to involve you in anything, Nanami. That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here?”
Satoru closes his eyes. There’s not really a reason for him to be there. Satoru is someone who lives by his impulses. He wanted to see Nanami, so he came. It’s not the answer he can speak, so he thinks about the next thing, which might not be good either, but Satoru is so, so tired.
“Because you’re the only one who understands me, Nanami.” It’s the truth, isn’t it? “No one around jujutsu tech is a monster who wants to kill kids – though sure, some don’t see Yuuji-kun as one – but they say we all should do what we have to do. I was talking to Yuuji-kun about you and when I looked at him I knew you would be the only one who understands how I feel about him. You understand what it's like to lose a teenager. You know the pain. ”
For once, Nanami shakes.
They are always dancing around the topic, aren’t they? Satoru makes hurtful remarks and Nanami ignores them because he’s too good, but they don’t talk about it. Ten years and they still don’t talk about it.
“Suguru died not too long ago,” Satoru continues, “but I lost him as a teenager. He wasn’t my Suguru anymore. I refused to mourn him for so long because I refused to believe he changed and now that he’s gone for good I don’t know how to do it.”
“I hated him for a while.” Nanami’s confession doesn’t feel real. It feels like a dream. “I hated him so much because he was the only one you always thought about. As a teenager he was always there, then he wasn’t anymore, but he didn’t leave either. Not in your mind, at least. I was jealous.”
Satoru undoes his blindfold, he needs to look at Nanami without anything in between them. Nanami doesn’t look angry, doesn’t look jealous, not anymore. They are past that point, aren’t they?
“He…” Satoru begins, but doesn’t know what to say. “He was my best friend. We never, we didn’t, it never meant–” He then laughs, hearing it echo through the tiles of Nanami’s kitchen. “See? I told you’re the one who understands me, Nanami. I always felt the same about Haibara. Even now, you don’t talk about him and I still feel jealous.”
“He’s dead, there’s nothing to talk about.” Nanami replies right away. Then, he takes a deep breath. “When I told him I was dating you he said it was obvious because I always got the things I wanted.” He almost smiles and jealousy eats Satoru’s heart from inside. It’s not fair, not now, but he can’t help it. “He told me–” Nanami’s voice falters. “He told me that he had to train harder then, so he could become stronger and defend me if you ever hurt me.”
Satoru chuckles, though it could be a sob. “He wouldn’t stand a chance against me.” It’s not the best thing to say, he knows, but Satoru was never good with his words, so he adds: “But he would still try for you, that’s what matters.”
Nanami doesn’t look angry when he replies. “It is.” He is not smiling, but there’s something so relaxed, so open in his expression that Satoru wants to cry.
“Suguru would never fight you for me, though.” Satoru says, not ready to let the conversation end. “He once told me he understood why I was dating you, that you were my perfect type or something.” If Satoru closes his eyes he can still hear the easy laugh in Suguru's voice when he said that. “But he couldn’t understand why you were with me, though.”
“Sometimes not even I could.” Nanami is smiling now, his voice soft.
This, Satoru thinks, is what he misses the most. The intimacy of moments like this is something he never experienced with anyone else; the way despite the subject he still feels at peace when he looks at Nanami. It’s like a weight has been lifted between them now, like maybe the old wounds can start to heal. Satoru wants to speak again, doesn’t want this to turn awkward or for Nanami to realize that Satoru doesn’t really have a reason to be there, but he doesn’t know what to say. It was already so hard to navigate that conversation, he doesn’t want to ruin it.
Nanami spares him when he speaks again: “I was in awe of you, you know? Because you have always been so carefree.”
Satoru blinks, tries to process the words. “You… in awe?”
Nanami nods. “You have always been so powerful and yet you never showed how it weightened on you. Of course, I learned that later, but at the time I thought you were so free… I wanted to feel that at least once.”
“You were a little uptight, Nanamin.” Satoru jokes.
“I was, wasn’t I?” Nanami asks. Then, with a soft voice, he says: “I did. Feel free, I mean. When I was with you, no matter how obnoxious you could be, I always felt so free.”
Satoru’s tea is cold and his hands are trembling a little, but he still drinks it just so he has something to do other than to stare at Nanami. He’s so beautiful like this, wearing an old shirt and looking sleepy. It isn’t fair that someone could be so normal and yet so gorgeous like him.
“You keep saying those things every time we meet and I’ll fall in love with you, Nanami.” Satoru whispers, still looking at his own tea.
Nanami doesn’t buy into his poor attempt to joke. Instead, he reaches out and wraps his fingers against Satoru’s wrist. “I say them because no one tells you you’re important,” he brushes his thumb against Satoru’s pulse and Satoru shivers.
“People tell me this every time–”
“No,” Nanami interrupts. “Not you. I know people are always saying that the six eyes are important and you’re powerful, I’m not talking about that. You, Satoru, are important as a person, six eyes or not.”
Satoru shouldn’t, it’s something his teenager self would find so stupid, but he remembers every time Nanami used his given name, keeps all the memories in a special place in his heart. When you love someone as formal as Nanami Kento you learn how to cherish every crack of the armour, every show of emotion.
“You can’t say shit like that and then tell me you don’t want to date.” Satoru is not crying yet, but at this point it is a matter of seconds. “You can’t be this cruel to me, Nanami.”
He waits for an apology again, but instead he hears the chair scrape against the floor and soon Nanami is kneeling in front of him, hands reaching for Satoru’s. He’s so gentle, cold fingers touching Satoru as if he’ll break – and maybe he will. Nanami stares at him and Satoru wants to run away, afraid of what he’ll say. He’s good with teasing, he’s good with laughs, but this, the honesty in Nanami’s eyes, Satoru doesn’t know what to do with it.
“You were right,” Nanami says, voice trembling. Somehow, Satoru expected him to be calm now too, but even Nanami Kento shows his humanity from time to time. It was such a stupid thing to wish Nanami would break for him, Satoru knows now. Because this right here, the way his voice trembles and he looks uncertain and his fingers feel cold and clammy, this is a reaction only Satoru can get from him. Sadness can come easily to people like them, but love, that is almost impossible to exist. “I’m not a burden to you. I was… I was scared.”
“You, scared?” Satoru holds his hands back and the old and practical part of his brain wants to tell Nanami to get up or his back will hurt. We’re not kids anymore, you have to be careful.
“I was scared I’d lose you the way I lost Yu.” Nanami takes a deep breath. “I loved him a lot. Not romantically, like a brother,” he adds, though Satoru knows what he means. “I had never experienced loss until he died and that… I didn’t know how to react. No one tells you the pain of seeing your best friend’s body.” Satoru can hear the pain in his voice, the feelings he kept bottled up for so long. “And even then, I loved you so much, Satoru.” He raises his eyes from where they had been looking at their joined hands to look at Satoru’s face. It’s this, the way Nanami looks at him, that finally makes Satoru cry. “I didn’t know it was love, or rather, I wanted to pretend it wasn’t.”
“You were always such a smart kid, Nanami.” Satoru watches as Nanami lets go of his hands to wipe away his tears. “I bet you understood this whole love thing way, way before I did.”
“It’s not a competition.” Nanami says, voice stern. That makes Satoru chuckle and Nanami smiles too. “I loved you so much and I thought that rejecting you would be better for me. Because you’re the strongest, but you’re still human, Satoru. You can die just like any of us. And it scared me that one day I would have to look at your dead body the way I looked at Yu’s. Though that is a bit presumptuous of me, isn’t it?” Nanami chuckles, though it sounds bitter. “It would most likely be the opposite.”
“Don’t.” Satoru shakes his head. “Don’t ever say that.”
Nanami wipes away his tears again. “I wanted to guard myself from pain, which was stupid. I thought that living a normal life I’d be happier, but I hated that job and I hate not being with you, Satoru.” He holds Satoru’s hands again, stronger than before. “If we’re going to die–”
“Nanami–”
“If we’re going to die I don’t want to go with any regrets. I want to live until I die, not just exist.” He looks back then, to the living room, and Satoru knows what he’s trying to see. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I want you back, Satoru.”
Satoru stares at him, at the way Nanami looks half nervous and half proud of himself for saying all of that. Does he expect a rejection, Satoru wonders. Maybe, if Satoru was the hero of some cliche movie. He would cry and say he loves Nanami, but their duty comes first and they have to focus on fighting cursed spirits – something big is coming, Satoru can feel it in the air.
But Satoru is not a hero, he is not dutiful in the way Nanami is, he is not committed to the whole fighting evil thing, he does it because if he doesn’t then no one else will. But the truth is, he would drop everything, ignore the entire world if Nanami Kento asked him to.
And yet Nanami asks for so little, the simple man that he is. He asks for something that he always had, from the first time Satoru decided he was interested in the grumpy first year to now. Years and years have passed, and not for a second Satoru stopped being his.
Satoru smiles, squeezing Nanami’s hands. “I waited a long time for you to say that, you know, Nanami.” And he would wait even more, Satoru knows. He would wait forever for Nanami and it would be worth it.
“I know, I–”
Satoru presses a finger to Nanami’s lips. “Don’t apologize, I didn’t say it to make you feel guilty. Just… I had a feeling you’d come around.”
“You’ve always been so full of yourself.” Nanami says when Satoru drops his finger.
“And you always loved me anyway.”
Nanami smiles. “That I did. That I do.”
The sentence is so simple, but it still makes Satoru shiver. Of all the people Nanami could have loved, of all the people he could have chosen, he chose Satoru. Gojo Satoru, who complained about being stronger than others, who never saw himself as a hero. He has so many flaws, so many more than qualities, and still, Nanami loves him.
What an unfair world, that someone so good would fall for someone so crooked. But Satoru won’t complain, not when at least for once the unfairness of the world works in his favor.
“I love you,” he tells Nanami because he can, because no one can stop him, no one will, not even Nanami. “I think I've loved you since the first moment we’ve been introduced.”
Nanami raises an eyebrow. “That’s a long time.”
Satoru shrugs. “I’m trying to say I too want you back Nanami, let me be romantic for one second.”
Nanami smiles. It’s one of those short, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smiles of his, but Satoru sees it and it still makes his heart beat faster against his ribcage. And to think that could be a normal occurrence now.
“Come here Satoru,” Nanami says in reply, pulling Satoru by his hands. “Let me kiss you.”
Satoru still remembers the first time they kissed. They were so young and he wasn’t expecting it, but he remembers having a revelation, that from that moment on he needed to kiss Nanami Kento every day or else he wouldn’t be able to function properly. It was a brush of their lips, but it had changed something inside him.
Now, as Nanami cradles his face as if he’s precious, cold fingertips touching Satoru’s hair, it’s not the same feeling as the first time, it’s better. Back then he hadn’t known what was waiting for him, it was like dipping his foot in a pool without knowing how deep it was. Now he knows well, can envision their future together – because there’s no way he’s letting Nanami go again; he’ll change, he’ll become a better person, a better sorcerer, he’ll do everything so Nanami doesn’t leave – from the way Nanami presses his lips against Satoru’s, almost shy, all reverent, like he can’t believe he gets to do this again.
Satoru smiles against his lips and feels Nanami smiling in return before he deepens the kiss and Satoru’s brain turns into static. He had forgotten, or rather, had forced himself to forget, how kissing someone he loves felt like. When they part, Nanami stares at him, brushes his knuckles against Satoru’s cheek. Satoru closes his eyes, afraid he’ll cry again at the softness of the gesture. He has been treated in many different ways in his life: anger, fear, awe, hatred, but only Nanami ever treated him with such tenderness.
When Satoru opens his eyes again Nanami is still there, looking at him as if they have all the time in the world. Maybe, Satoru thinks, that’s how normal people live; you know you’ll die one day, that is the fate of all human beings, but you still look at your loved ones as if you’re eternal because what matters is not the future, but the moment. Satoru knows jujutsu sorcerers have shorter life spans, but at that moment he decides to forget it and focus on Nanami.
Satoru does what he has been dreaming with for years: he pulls Nanami into a hug and hides his face on the crook of Nanami’s neck, kisses the mole on his skin. Nanami hugs him back tight and Satoru has half a mind to imagine how stupid they must look, two grown men kneeling on the kitchen floor, but he can’t pull back and Nanami doesn’t push him away. Those days are over now.
They pull away after a while and Satoru can’t stop smiling. His face is going to hurt, he doesn’t remember the last time he smiled this much. “Nanami–”
“Kento.”
“What?”
“Why are you being so formal?” Nanami, Kento asks. “We’re a couple now, Satoru. Shouldn’t we speak to each other casually?”
Satoru laughs. “You’re loving this, aren’t you, you bastard?” He asks, hands still on Nanami’s shoulders. “I bet it killed you to be respectful to me.”
“It killed me more not being able to kiss you.”
Satoru hugs him again, too embarrassed to look at Nanami. “You can’t say things like that! Not after years of–”
“I can and I will.” Nanami pushes him softly and kisses him again, slow and sweet. He stands up, frowning at what Satoru bets is back pain. The old man. “Come on,” he offers his hand to Satoru.
Satoru takes it, his own body protesting after being crouched down for so long. He must be getting old too. “Oh, is this when you’ll take me to your bedroom and–”
“Don’t be crass,” he squeezes Satoru’s hand. “You look like shit, you need to sleep.”
Despite his words, Nanami’s voice is tinged with worry, his eyes study Satoru in a way that is both clinical and intimate, looking for signs that Satoru hasn’t been taking care of himself – when has he ever? – but willing to not comment on them and instead offer the solution.
He starts pulling Satoru towards his bedroom, but Satoru stops him by hugging him from behind, pressing his forehead in between his shoulder blades. His hug is tight, but Nanami doesn’t fight it. Instead, he places his hands on top of Satoru’s, leaving them there in a comforting gesture.
“I love you,” Satoru whispers against his shirt. “I love you a lot.”
Nanami brings one of Satoru’s hands up, kisses the back of it, a gesture that warms his whole body. “I know.” He turns around and kisses Satoru again, his hands cupping Satoru’s face gently. “I love you a lot too.” Holding Satoru’s hand again he pulls Satoru towards the bedroom. “Come on.”
-
Nanami Kento has a mole on his neck.
It’s there, in the open after Satoru pulled the collar of his shirt so he could kiss it. They lie down together on Nanami’s bed and Satoru remembers the first time they did it, years ago, so young and unaware of the perils of the world. It had been there in Nanami’s bed that Satoru realized he liked the other boy for real.
He had wanted to run away back then; he gets closer to Nanami now.
His mind fixates on the mole again because if he doesn’t then Satoru will start fixating on the future and what this, they, mean and he’ll overwhelm himself. It’s fine, he’s with Nanami again, no longer a game, they can deal with everything together. It’s easy to imagine the worst scenarios, to think of all the ways things could go wrong, so Satoru closes his eyes and presses his body close to Nanami.
“What are you thinking about?” Nanami asks, fingers brushing through Satoru’s hair. It’s such a calming gesture Satoru sighs.
“You have a mole right here.” He kisses the spot gently before resting his head against Nanami’s shoulder again. They’ll end up moving away from each other in their sleep, Satoru knows, both liking their own space too much to remain this close throughout the night, but it’s fine, Nanami will pull Satoru closer when he wakes up, will hold him until Satoru gets tired of pretending he’s sleeping.
“Is this why you always kiss me there?”
“No,” Satoru smiles. “I always kiss you there because I can.”
This makes Nanami chuckle. What a delightful sound, Satoru thinks, the laugh of a loved one. He kisses the top of Satoru’s head. “Goodnight, my love.”
Satoru is happy Nanami has his eyes closed or else he’d see the way Satoru blushes. He wraps one arm around Nanami’s body and vows to make him blush ten times harder the next day.
“Goodnight, baby.” He whispers back, a smile still on his lips.
They still have a lot to talk about, Satoru knows, but that can wait. For now, this is enough. Satoru is finally home again.