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Without a doubt, Yuuji looks out of place here. His ripped up hoodie and scratched up face work in complete contrast with the spotless, modern interiors of the apartment- a detail that Kento quite keenly aware of. The boy’s movements look almost cartoonish, all curves and chaos in a world of sharp, sleek edges. Kento senses that even if Yuuji was all cleaned up, his presence here would be just as startling.
“Wait here,” Kento tells him. “I’ll get the kit.”
He half-expects Yuuji to take off- zoom right into the living room and start leaving fingerprints on every surface and object in sight. Surely, Yuuji would have a sixth-sense for whatever possession of Kento’s was most valuable. He had always had quite the talent for cutting right to the heart of things that way.
But Yuuji just takes a small step forward, pausing to take the whole place in.
“Okay,” Yuuji says when Kento doesn’t move right away. Perhaps he thinks Kento won’t continue without acknowledgement. Perhaps he wouldn’t have.
The Special Grade Sorcerers are dispersed abroad this week, so the rest of them have had their hands full putting out fires around Japan. The mission that Yuuji and Kento were just on would have been easily handled by a single sorcerer if it had been someone with a technique like Satoru’s- something that could take out several curses at the same time- but due to the sheer volume of curses alone, it had become a two person job. Yuuji and Kento had been hacking away for hours, a grueling kind of fight that had long outlasted their adrenaline.
Yuuji, reckless as always, had let himself get beat up pretty badly. The kid was a magnet for disaster. All the strongest curses in the vicinity immediately heading his way like a beacon from the second of their arrival. And to make matters worse, Yuuji seemed just as susceptible to falling prey to that tugging attraction. The injuries he’d sustained weren't anything Kento couldn’t handle, but it was enough to make him worry.
When Kento reemerges, near-industrial sized first-aid kit in hand, Yuuji has hopped up on the counter, a scuffed red shoe crossed over his knee as he slouches lazily on the marbled granite. He’s swiveled his head almost all the way around so he can stare out of Nanami’s glossy, floor-to-ceiling windows, mouth parted in awe. Kento freezes guiltily in his step for a moment as he watches. The sweeping, eagle-eye view of Tokyo had become so commonplace to him that he barely even thought to look over anymore. What had started as a huge selling point was now just a fact, as basic and unquestioned as his coffee table or the crisp white tea towel hanging on his oven.
At least someone was able to enjoy it.
Yuuji looks back to him, and Kento swiftly keeps moving as if he’d never stopped in the first place. “That thing is massive,” Yuuji gawks, eyes covering every inch of the dark case in Kento’s hand.
“And necessary,” Kento rebukes, making a mental note to put a few together for Yuuji and his classmates. They’d make thoughtful, practical graduation gifts for all of them. Which they could use, seeing that Satoru will most likely just throw candy or some flashy but useless electronic at them.
Ready to get to work, he flicks on the kitchen lights and Yuuji squeezes his eyes shut dramatically, adjusting from the late day sun streaming in from the window. Kento steels himself for the incoming of a childish complaint about it, but it never comes.
“You really don’t have to do this, you know,” Yuuji tells him. Kento dismisses him wordlessly, hauling his kit on the counter and methodically unclasping it. Yuuji’s cursed tool had broken pretty early on, or else he’d just abandoned it in favor of his fists when Kento’s back was turned. As a result, his knuckles are in terrible shape, oozing with half-clotted blood. It’s the scratches on his face that Kento is more worried about- especially his nose, which Yuuji had insisted on the ride over wasn’t broken. Kento doubts it. “I’ll just have Shoko patch me up when I get back.”
“Shoko is at a medical summit all weekend,” Nanami reports, leaning in to get a better look at the nose. Had it always been a bit crooked, or was that new? Blood leaks out of his left nostril, stopping just before his lip. Yuuji hasn’t seemed to notice.
“Then Okkotsu-senpai-”
“Your nose is bleeding. Wipe it off,” Kento instructs, turning his back for a single moment to get a towel. He pauses when he thinks better of it. “Not with your sleeve.”
Of course when he turns back around, Yuuji’s arm is frozen in mid-air, hoodie pulled over his fingers and hovering inches away from his face. “How’d you know that!?”
Kento doesn’t even dignify that with a response, since the answer should be obvious. He hands Yuuji the towel.
“Yuuta Okkotsu is abroad in South America all week,” Kento tells him matter-of-factly, leaning in for closer inspection. “Which I know you know.”
“Caught me,” Yuuji admits sheepishly, a grin creeping onto his face. “I just didn’t think you knew that.”
“Oh?” Kento fires back, feeling himself getting annoyed. He puts his hands on each of Yuuji’s ears, steadying his face to see if the nose is as bent as he thinks. “So you were just going to go home and… do what? Nothing?”
The answer is clearly yes, because Yuuji has gone completely still. Kento isn’t even sure he’s breathing. His eyes have gone unreasonably wide, and Kento can feel his pulse racing under his temples. An eyelid twitches and Kento finally puts it together.
Shit. The kid must be in pain. If his nose was broken, and Kento was fairly certain it was, lecturing him wasn’t going to do anything to improve the situation.
“‘S really not that bad,” Yuuji says unconvincingly, shying away from Kento’s touch. He instantly releases his hands, sighing.
“How much does it hurt?” Kento asks. “Be honest.”
He keeps a supply of painkillers on hand. Such is the life of a sorcerer- especially one who wasn’t getting any younger. Satoru had no use for them, but Utahime and Shoko had connections they’d shared with him discreetly when he rejoined the fray. If there was even a shadow of a doubt that he himself had broken a bone, he’d have popped something prescription the second he walked in the door without even glancing at the label first. But he couldn’t give something like that to a student, right? Or would it be more unethical not to?
But Yuuji just shakes his head, eyes hitting the floor. Kento wonders if he’s ever had as much as an ibuprofen before, beating himself up for even considering offering something stronger. Knowing Yuuji, he’ll bounce back without even trying. Kento can’t remember ever feeling young enough to be that way, but he supposes he must have at some point.
“Nanamin?” Yuuji asks suddenly, with enough force to startle them both. He looks up at Nanami seriously and swallows hard. “Will you…”
He can't bring himself to finish the sentence. Kento blinks at him, perplexed. Yuuji shakes his head, but Kento isn’t willing to let him off that easy, so he clears his throat and waits. Yuuji grimaces. What could he possibly be getting this worked up about? Kento, curious in spite of himself, holds his breath as Yuuji finds the will to continue.
“I was just wondering if…” Yuuji starts again, his eyes flickering between Kento and the floor. Kento nods encouragingly, hanging on every word. “Will you… will you buy us alcohol?”
Whatever Kento was expecting, this was certainly not it.
“What? ” He barks, astounded.
“It’s stupid!” Yuuji blurts, playing it off. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just- everyone knew we were on a mission together today, so I promised I’d ask. Like I said- stupid!”
And suddenly whatever nerves Yuuji has been holding on to this whole visit have evaporated into thin air. His shoulders go soft as he props himself up on the counter with a bloodied hand. He seems proud of himself almost, like a child being handed a participation trophy or walking home after a botched violin concert- more excited to have done something than to have actually succeeded at it. Yet another feeling Kento couldn’t quite relate to.
“You’re underage,” Kento points out, furious. To distract himself from the idiocy of the conversion, he roots through his first-aid kit till he finds the antiseptic.
“It hasn’t exactly stopped anyone in the past,” Yuuji argues, lolling his head to the side. “Besides, don’t you think 18 is old enough? If we were in Sweden or something, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”
Sweden? He doesn’t bother with asking.
“I”m your teacher,” Kento tells him firmly, yanking Yuuji’s free hand up and pouring the solution liberally over his knuckles.
“Okay, ow,” Yuuji complains, squeezing his face to a fraction of its usual size in distaste. “And only for like, two more weeks!”
“Three,” Kento corrects. He’s about to grab for the other hand, but Yuuji offers it willingly. When he pours, practically feeling the sting of it himself in sympathy, he notices that Yuuji doesn’t even try to pull away, doesn’t so much as wince. Kento realizes, chest getting tight, that it’s the telltale mark of a seasoned sorcerer- someone who takes pain as a sign to keep going instead of running in the opposite direction. He regrets his next words before they even come out of his mouth. “Fine. But if you tell anyone, I’ll have no choice but to kill you.”
“Wait,” Yuuji blinks, slow. “What?”
Kento really doesn’t feel as though he should have to explain himself on this, so he busies himself wrapping bandages. He doesn’t even have to look up to see the realization finally hit Yuuji’s face- he feels it. The firecracker pop of his cursed energy bursts to life around him, radiating off his skin with glee. Kento can only imagine the bright, splitting grin that must be plastered on his face right now.
“Well I’m not actually going to buy you anything,” Kento tells him, his voice of reason angrily knocking back on the door of his brain. “But I have a few old things from Satoru that I’m refusing to drink on principle. I’d have disposed of them anyway.”
“Wait, from Gojo-Sensei?” Yuuji inquires, a slightly worried tone in his voice. “But isn’t he like.. rich rich? If it’s nice you shouldn’t waste it on us! We’re only worth the cheap stuff.”
“Yuuji,” Kento starts, his voice dropping low. He finishes wrapping the second bandage and leans in. “It’s time you start raising your standards.”
They stare at each other for a moment, motionless until Yuuji’s chest rises and falls. There’s a dreamy, far-away look on his face and- oh, fuck. Were his eyes always that dilated?
“I think… I think I already have pretty high standards,” he responds shyly, but Kento doesn’t hear him. Instead, he’s fixated on the way Yuuji raises his hand to his head, patting at a section of it absentmindedly.
For fuck’s sake. The kid went and got himself concussed and didn’t tell anyone. Kento is furious with himself as the pieces start to fit together- Yuuji’s uncharacteristically quiet entrance, his adverse reaction to Kento turning on the overhead lights, the clearly misguided plea for Kento to buy him booze.
“Yuuji,” he tries, reaching for the same spot that Yuuji had been favoring.
“Nanamin.” Yuuji confirms, leaning into the touch.
Kento realizes, of course, that Yuuji is misunderstanding. He doesn’t have time to entertain it- especially when the kid clearly wasn’t in his right mind. “Did you hit your head?”
“No,” Yuuji says, nodding his head reassuringly. Then he tilts it. “Well?”
Kento rubs the bridge of his nose. Here it comes.
“Remember that cursed tool you brought me? The staff?” Yuuji asks. Of course he does- he’d brought it from his own collection and Yuuji had returned it with a decisive crack right down the middle. Now hardly seemed like the time to be peeved about it though. “So it hit me… I don’t know, about four times before it finally broke? I sorta lost track.”
“Hit you?”
“Well, yeah!” Yuuji exclaims. “One of the curses grabbed it from me I guess. I wasn’t really paying attention.”
Kento grinds his teeth, jaw twitching with the urge to let loose the scolding his mind has been busy writing.
“But hey, we won right? And that’s what matters!”
“That’s not-” Kento barks, only barely remembering he should be keeping his voice low. “That’s not the only thing that matters.” It’s important that Kento keeps his composure as he tells Yuuji this. It’s imperative that Yuuji listens- that he understands. Kento knows all too well what happens to sorcerers who don’t value their lives above the cause. “Your life matters. You matter.”
And with that, Yuuji’s lower lip falls. A strange look settles on his face, slightly blank and softer than Kento had seen from him before. There is a wonderment in Yuuji’s eyes as he looks at Kento, a wonderment that Kento is sure he has done nothing to deserve.
But the moment ends as quickly as it began. Yuuji’s face crumbles with confusion, an open book slamming shut. He stares down at his feet, kicks his heels against Kento’s cabinets distractedly. Desperately, Kento wants to know what Yuuji’s face is giving away right now- because god knows he can’t ever hide a single thing he’s feeling- but his eyes are fixed decidedly on the floor.
“Yuuji,” Kento sighs, leveling with him. “It’s extremely important important you-”
“Why do you care?” Yuuji interrupts. He says it like a curse, spitting the words out petulantly. It’s times like these that Kento has to actively remind himself that Yuuji isn’t just acting like a moody teenager, he actually is a moody teenager. Still, the tone stings. Kento finds himself recoiling as if he’s been slapped.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snaps back.
“Why do you care,” Yuuji repeats, seething. He’s still staring at the floor. “In two weeks, you’re not even going to be my teacher anymore.”
“Three,” Kento corrects again.
“Whatever!” Yuuji blasts, throwing his head back in a jerking motion that could not be good for his condition. “In three weeks, you’re not going to be my teacher anymore so why do you care? I won’t be your problem anymore. We probably won’t even see each other.”
Oh. Is that what this is about?
“It’s awfully bold of you to assume you won’t need any additional advisement just because you’re graduating soon,” Kento placates. It wasn’t as if the two of them would never be on mission together again. And even then, the Jujutsu Community was small. Their paths were bound to keep crossing. “I can assure you, Yuuji,” he adds gently, placing a thumb under Yuuji’s chin to keep him steady. “You’ll be seeing me plenty.”
Finally, Yuuji looks up to meet his gaze.
“Promise?” he asks, voice so small. Kento sighs. He’s seen Yuuji’s file. It didn’t seem as though there was a lot of stability when it came to adults in his life. But Kento is the definition of stable. He can be that for Yuuji. If that’s what he needs, Kento will keep showing up.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He assures.
And that should be it. Kento comforted him, and now he should step back and let the moment end. But he doesn’t pull away, and neither does Yuuji. Instead, his eyes slip down to Kento’s mouth, tracing their edges. And yet again, all signs point to this moment being the end of things. Kento should yank himself away, snap so far back that Yuuji can’t even touch him- but again, he doesn’t. He can’t bring himself to.
So Yuuji kisses him.
It’s so unbelievably brief. His eyes slam shut and he hurtles in, clumsily knocking their foreheads together as he closes the distance between them and presses his lips to Kento’s. There are so many marks of inexperience in it, and the worst part of Kento’s brain buzzes with all the ways he could fix that- how he could show Yuuji how to really kiss someone.
But that’s insane. That’s fucked up on so many levels.
“Yuuji,” he breathes. Already sensing Kento’s disappointment, Yuuji begins to shake his head, eyes still sewn shut. “You’re not in your right mind. Your head-”
“Don’t,” Yuuji argues. “Don’t say that. I’m not crazy. I swear I’m not.”
And he isn’t. Not about this, at least. The two of them have always had a strange connection, that much was very clear. Kento can’t pinpoint exactly when it shifted, when it became something more , but in the last few months it had. They stood closer when they talked, and the distance between them felt charged, static and magnetic in a way Kento wished like hell he didn’t recognize.
But he would ever cross that line. Kento was a rule follower. More than that, he was a rule believer . He knew they were there for a reason- that reason being to protect Yuuj . There’s nothing Kento wouldn’t do to keep him as safe as humanly possible, and this was no exception. This is a situation that could hurt him, so it was Kento’s duty to shut it down as efficiently as possible.
“We need to get you to a doctor,” Kento tells him firmly, trying to pick his next words carefully. He needs finality in a way that won’t upset Yuuji, but it seems it might already be too late for that.
“Tell me I’m wrong!” Yuuji shouts, ignoring him completely. Cursed energy cracks out of his fingertips once again. It’s weaker now than it was before, which couldn’t be a good sign. He’s still capable of yelling, sure, but Kento can tell he’s fading fast- like a child throwing a tantrum after missing their nap time. “Tell me it’s one-sided. Tell me that all of it was in my head. Just tell me that and I promise we’ll never talk about it again.”
“You’re confused, Yuuji,” Kento tells him, knowing damn well it’s a lie. “And right now you’re not well. It’s my responsibility to-”
“Stop treating me like a child!” Yuuji protests. He takes a deep breath, letting out the anger. When he’s finished he looks exhausted. He holds his hands in front of his chest, grasping at the air like it might help him find the words. “Please, Nanamin. Please. It’s not like- I’m not a kid. And I’m not stupid, either. I know what I want. I know what you want.”
“We can’t,” Kento whispers. As if that makes it any better, no one being able to hear him. It’s as close to an admission as Yuuji is going to get from him. His muscles go rigid with the wrongness of it.
“Why not?” Yuuji asks airly, matching his light tone. The hope behind it makes Kento cringe. “Do you know how happy I was?” Yuuji persists, seeing his resistance. “When they told me we were going on a mission together today?”
Begrudgingly, Kento has to admit to himself that he had been somewhat excited about it too. Usually, when he gets an assignment email he rolls his eyes and sighs deeply. But when he saw that his protege had been assigned to it as well, he breathed a sigh of relief. He checked the weather and was thrilled to see sun in the forecast. He’d studied the surrounding area on his phone, so he could treat Yuuji to a meal afterwards if things went well. It felt more like a day off than it did work, and Kento never felt that way while fighting curses. Not since-
“I couldn’t stop smiling,” Yuuji continues.
An image of Yuu flashes in his mind, all these years later still vivid and prominently featuring his ever-present smile. Kento’s heart wrenches. That was just another reason this whole thing was so inappropriate. He couldn’t deny how similar the two boys were. That had always been the root of this- that Kento could protect Yuuji. It was hardly reparation for what happened to Yuu, but at least it was something.
But that old excuse- that Kento was just using Yuuji as a substitute- was wearing thinner and thinner by the day. Yuuji was older than Yuu would ever be. Kento has known Yuuji longer than he’d ever know Yuu. For as many similarities as the two of them had, Kento had learned in the past few years they had just as many differences. He’s his own person, clear as day.
“I was going to make you take me to a bakery nearby,” Yuuji admits unapologetically. “They had sandwiches.”
“Yuuji…” Kento starts, exasperated. He doesn’t even know what to say at this point. He won’t lie to Yuuji. That’s never been in his nature. But the truth was not an option.
Slowly, leaving plenty of time to pull away that Kento inexplicably does not utilize, Yuuji reaches behind Kento’s neck and rests his arms on Kento’s shoulders. They’re too close together. Why are they still too close together? Kento needs to move, and fast.
“Would it really be so wrong?” Yuuji says softly, eyes glossy. “If we did this thing that made us happy? We’re both adults.”
“Barely,” Kento reminds him. Yuuji gives a little more of his weight to Kento, leaning forward. “Yuuji, I-”
“Just tell me I’m wrong,” Yuuji tries again, inching closer. “Tell me I’m bad and young and stupid and horny.”
Horny? Kento nearly chokes.
“You’re not-”
And that’s all it takes. Yuuji doesn’t even wait to hear the end of the sentence. It’s an inch, and he takes a mile. This time he doesn’t stop at kissing. He yanks Kento in and wraps his legs around Kento’s hips, hugging him close as their lips start to lock.
As it turns out, Yuuji does not need kissing lessons.
He kisses the way Kento always knew he would, but never dared to imagine- fierce and hungry and unwavering. But just as predicted, when Kento takes control he gives instantly, eager to follow where Kento leads him. The act is effortless, practically choreographed. Yuuji clings to him and Kento holds him steady, a perfect showing of both their strengths.
But it can only last so long. Kento can only let it last so long. As he pulls away, he actually feels Yuuji’s bottom lip jutting out into a pout.
“We can’t do this,” Kento tells him. The next bit slips out on its own. “Not yet.”
“I knew it!” Yuuji cheers. “I knew it.”
Kento can see the relief flood through every muscle in Yuuji’s body. He flops forward, pressing his forehead to Kento’s chest and burying his face. How long had he been torturing himself over this? As long as Kento? Longer?
“You understand though, right?” Kento asks, allowing the touch to linger. “How inappropriate this is? Why we can’t?”
“Maybe.” Yuuji says, deflating. Half of his body weight is pressing into Kento’s chest at this point. He shakes his head, digging in closer. “I’m just so tired, Nanamin.” So tired, in fact, that when Kento looks down, Yuuji’s eyes are closed and his face is slack.
Jesus christ. Yuuji is so distracting that Kento has completely forgotten about the task at hand.
“We have to get you to a doctor. Now. I’m calling a manager.”
How Kento manages to carry out an entire work call in earnest with Yuuji basically asleep on top of him, he’s not sure. He does it though, and he doesn’t even feel guilty about acting completely tactful and professional as if he hadn't just been intertwined with a sorcerer-in-training. How did he let this get so fucked up?
“Come on, get up,” he instructs. “You can’t go to sleep.”
Yuuji makes a grousy noise, but he peels himself off of Kento’s chest just the same. “Do we have to?”
“The car will be here in five. Get your things,” Yuuji pushes himself up, stumbling a bit on his feet as he does. Kento frowns. His apartment is in shambles now, uncapped medicines and specks of Yuuji’s blood all over the counter. He really should’ve taken Yuuji straight to a hospital. Then they would have been able to avoid this whole mess- in more ways than one.
There’s a sick feeling in Kento’s gut. Nerves. Guilt. Worry. He tugs his suit coat back on and swallows it down. He has to be strong here, for Yuuji’s sake.
The kid waits for him at the entry, leaning against the door so neither of them can go through it. That, or he can’t hold himself up properly. Either way, Kento will have to intervene. Yuuji blinks at him, daring him to speak up.
“I cannot stress to you enough,” Kento tells him, voice unwaveringly serious, “That right now my only priority is your wellbeing.” Yuuji can choose to take it whichever way he pleases, but Kento means it in every sense.
“You care about me,” Yuuji gloats, smiling roguishly. Kento scoffs.
“Don’t be dense.” Yuuji just laughs at him, bringing a hand to his head and pretending to knock at it- a joke Kento doesn’t find particularly funny given the circumstances.
“I don’t want to just pretend this didn’t happen.”
“It shouldn’t have happened,” Kento says, checking his phone to make sure the manager hasn’t tried to reach them yet. No such luck. “Not till after graduation at the very least.”
“Two- no, three- weeks,” Yuuji chirps, finally getting it right.
“At least,” Kento reiterates.
“I can wait,” he promises. Three more weeks, Kento reminds himself. At minimum.
And for a second, Kento lets himself feel the thrill of it. He lets himself start picturing every thought he’s been stomping down for the last few months. He even lets himself look at Yuuji, not just to check his wounds or his expressions- but to actually see him. He’s grinning like an idiot.
“You can wipe that smug look off your face,” Kento tells him, almost without any force at all. “Or I’m keeping all that top shelf liquor I promised you.”
Yuuji blinks.
“Liquor?” he asks, tilting his head. The smile starts to fade from his face as he searches Kento’s for an answer.
“Yes. You asked for-” Kento cuts himself off when he recognizes the look of complete confusion on Yuuji’s face. “Nevermind. Let’s go.”
He shoos Yuuji away from the door and rushes to call the elevator. Yuuji trots along behind him, shoes squeaking on the polished floors as he tries his best to keep up. Kento doesn’t look back at him as they wait, a feeling of dread settling in.
He’s forgotten. Yuuji asked Kento to buy him booze not five minutes ago, and he’s already forgotten. That’s how serious his injury was.
Which meant, more likely than not, Yuuji wouldn’t remember this conversation either.
Kento balls his hand into a fist to stop himself from slamming it against the steel frame of the elevator door. Dammit. Yuuji wouldn’t remember this and Kento was not in a position to remind him. How would that conversation even go? Oh, and by the way Yuuji- you do remember back when you were suffering from brain damage and memory loss that we made out on my counter, correct?
The elevator arrives and Kento ushers them inside, silently cursing every lower floor he’d decided to live on top of. The last thing he needed was to be in close, confined quarters with Yuuji. Yuuji, who- even if he ever had feelings for Kento in the first place- likely wouldn’t remember any of this come morning. The doors close, and Kento feels a part of himself shut off with them.
“Nanamin?” Yuuji asks after a moment, standing directly by his side.
“Yes?”
“You promise, right?” There’s a nervous lilt to his voice, like he’s not quite sure of what he wants to ask. “That in three weeks, we’ll talk? Even if you… even if I…” His voice trails off. Kento is content to let it, to let the whole conversation die out, but Yuuji continues. “I need you to promise you’ll come find me in three weeks. No matter what.”
As he talks, the new-age elevator is plummeting to the ground at its regular, too quick pace. It was one of things Kento had grown to hate about the building- it was a good imitation of a freefall. Right now, he feels it more than ever.
“I promise.”