Chapter Text
“Why didn’t you save me?”
The question rang through the darkness of the silent void surrounding the two men, echoing around in waves reminiscent of cursed energy.
“You know I tried, Yu.“
“It wasn’t enough, Kento.”
Nanami turned his face away, hiding his trembling lower lip behind his overgrown bangs, not being able to bear the sight of the bleeding emptiness where Haibara’s lower half should have been.
“…I know.”
—————————
Nanami woke with a start, banging his knee on his desk, his heart trying to forcibly fight its way out of his chest.
His head snapped up from his crossed arms, and he quickly took in the surrounding desks and whiteboards. Was he still in class? He felt a momentary flash of panic. He had never fell asleep in class before, and had certainly never planned to.
He then remembered the dream. He had been having nightmares like that a lot in the last month since Haibara died, and they had only increased with the stress of what Geto had done. Nanami almost never slept now.
“Nanami,” Yaga barked from the front of the class, across the room from him. “Were you sleeping?”
Shoko and Gojo, who were sitting up in the front row, both turned in their chairs to look at him.
Nanami winced under the scrutiny.
“Someone got sleepy,” Shoko teased in a lazy imitation of a baby voice, hanging her head backwards on the back of her chair, an unlit cigarette hanging loosely from her mouth.
Gojo sniggered from next to her, turning his chair backwards towards him with an ear-reaping screech. His grin was insufferable. “Does little Nanamin need a nap time?”
Nanami almost cringed, turning back to Yaga with a downturned head. “It won’t happen again, sir.”
“Remember, everything I teach in these classes is important. They save lives.” The teacher proceed to tap the small Polaroid of Haibara, grinning unapologetically at the camera, that was taped to the corner of the whiteboard, with his pointer.
Two times in rapid succession.
Two taps, signaling the shame. Two taps, sounding almost like explosions in the suddenly dead-silent classroom.
Nanami blinked in surprise, taking a sharp breath at the sudden aching pain his chest, one that he had just relieved not even a minute ago. He gripped the edge of his desk, knuckles turning white.
He resisted the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, instead pushing another stifling honorific through his quickly closing throat. “Yes, sir.”
Shoko swiveled her head towards Yaga like an owl, brows pinched together. She opened her mouth as if to tear him to shreds with the bite of her smoke-infested words alone, but seemed to blessedly think better of it. She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Give him a break, Sensei.”
Gojo, surprisingly enough, didn’t say a word, not even an inappropriate joke, looking towards the ceiling awkwardly, his mouth turning down in an uncomfortable grimace.
Nanami slumped a little further down in his chair, crossing his arms. Damn it. He messed up. The only people who could afford to sleep during class were Gojo, and of course, at one time, Geto, and that was only because they were special grades.
Jujutsu Tech couldn’t afford to lose them. Not like they could lose Kento. Or Haibara.
He turned his head to look out the window, setting his jaw, trying his best to ease his emotions. In this last month, he had quickly realized that feelings did nothing but make things worse.
“Class is dismissed,” Yaga sighed through the words, as if ending the lesson was some sort of physical torture for him. “Shoko, I expect you to fill Nanami in with the details he missed.”
Shoko nodded noncommittally, rising from her desk in a graceful sweep, (while Gojo stumbled, almost falling) and sauntered her way down the aisle to Kento, still wiggling the cigarette between her teeth. She stopped infront of him, almost slamming her hand on top of his desk. “You alright?”
Instead of looking at him as she asked, Shoko stared out the window thoughtfully, as if she was looking away from him to be respectful. as if he didn’t want her to see something.
Nanami, not expecting the question, faltered. “I- yes, thank you.”
He innerly cursed himself as he stood up stiffly, gathering his things in his small book bag. The first time someone asks him if he’s fine, he defaults to civilities, as if he was talking to a teacher, not a classmate.
Shoko shrugged and pulled a lighter from her uniform pocket. “Alright. I’m gonna go out to the courtyard before lunch and light up this smoke. Wanna come with? ‘Cause I am not staying up late tonight to catch you up on everything.”
“Of course.” He felt almost guilty for having her fill him in. Shoko hated trying to teach people, and he had discovered that pretty quickly, when at the start of this year, he asked her to tutor him, despite Haibara warning him not to.
Nanami shadowed her down the halls and into the blindingly green courtyard, listening to her tuneless whistle. Streams of sunlight cut through the tree, placed steadily in the center, as if setting spotlights on the flowers it particularly liked.
The air was fresh, a hint of a chill carrying the promise of the approaching Autumn. On the other side of the courtyard, one of the cafeteria windows slid open to allow the air in, undoubtedly Gojo’s doing.
Shoko leaned against the wall beside the entrance, finally flicking her lighter to life in front of her cigarette, and letting the flame catch. As she slipped her lighter back into her pocket, she lolled her head towards Nanami casually. “How much did you miss?”
He sighed, pinching the bridge of of his nose. “All of it, I believe.”
“Damn.”
Damn indeed.
“Honestly, I don’t know why Yaga freaked out like that. You didn’t miss much. He was just going on about rankings the whole time, which I’m sure you already know.”
Nanami almost sagged in relief, feeling one of many weights lift off his chest. “That’s good.” Curse dodged.
“I still can’t believe he mentioned Haiabra like that, though.” She exhaled, sending smoke clouding above them, almost mesmerizing in its dance.
Nanami almost flinched, tensing up all over again. He never wanted to talk about this. Every time Yu’s name was mentioned, it felt like a chasm was being torn open in his chest…like he was back in that abandoned school gym, staring at Haibara’s dismembered body bleeding out on the filthy floors.
Shoko, blessedly didn’t seem to notice, continuing her charade, beginning to tap the fingers of her free hand restlessly. “He should know how disrespectful that is, discipline or not,” she turned her body fully to him, catching eye contact. “I’m surprised that Satoru didn’t lose it on him. A damn miracle, if you ask me.”
He shrugged in an attempt to look unbothered, trying to avoid her disarming gaze by looking at literally anything.
The flowers. No, Haibara loved the flowers. The tree? Definitely not, Yu was always climbing it whenever the weather was nice.
As was he silently battling with his own emotions, he had forgotten to listen to Shoko’s disjointed rambling as she steadily got more worked up, her voice rising through the courtyard to the point of not being able to ignore anymore. The wind carried her words well.
Nanami finally turned back to her as she reached her crescendo.
“You just don’t get it Kento- is it alright if I call you that?” He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, doing his best to hide his lack of context. “-Ever since Suguru left, Gojo just hadn’t been the same.”
That piqued his interest. Nanami arched an eyebrow. “How so?”
Shoko sagged, letting her cigarette-holding hand drop to her side. “I don’t know, he’s just been…less annoying? He never tries to pull pranks anymore, and he barely reacts at anything. Take earlier for example.”
Nanami opened his mouth to speak, but she rose a finger in front of his mouth, letting out another breath of smoke.
“Not accusing you of anything, but neither of you two seem to be feeling any thing for Haibara or Geto anymore. Not since…” She paused, probably remembering Nanami’s blank stare as he sat in the infirmary, staring at Yu’s body, his hands had been shaking.
Nanami stared it her in near disbelief.
Who the hell did she think she was? How the fuck did she think she knew what he was feeling?
He clenched his fist and grit his teeth, digging his nails into his palms as if trying to tear them open, closing his eyes to calm down.
Closing them so he couldn’t see the ratio lines dancing across her face in warning. In temptation.
Shoko took one look at his squeezed shut eyes, and coughed, putting out her cigarette faster than he had ever seen her do before. “I- I better go-“
As Shoko jogged away, Nanami thought back to class, when she was looking away from him as if he didn’t want to be looked at. Maybe at that moment, she was right. But now, he wanted her soft eyes to tear through him, rip through his flesh like a bullet, just to see all the dirt, the guilt, inside.
Then maybe she would understand.
—————————
When Nanami finally made his way into the cafeteria, between Shoko's sudden trauma dump, and how long it took him to gather himself after, there were only fifteen minutes of lunch left.
He walked briskly to the counter, snatching the tray with his name on it with his now bleeding hands, blatantly ignoring Haibara and Geto’s empty ones, sitting empty beside it.
On one side of the cafeteria, Nanami could hear Shoko and Gojo sitting together, light-heartedly arguing about something, shoulder checking each other further down the benches, but keeping their bickering awfully quiet.
Nanami felt the inevitable pull in his chest to walk over and sit with them, as if nothing had ever happened at all. As if the other two students would come running through the doorway at any moment, cackling about how late they were.
As if he was still welcome.
He sat on the opposite side of the cafeteria, facing away from them, before aggressively pinching himself. What was the matter with him today? He didn’t have time for this.
As Nanami drank his miso soup in close to a single gulp, he sensed Gojo’s cursed energy drawing closer, and the tingling of his eyes on him.
All six of them?
He made a face into his sashimi. What could it be now? Was Gojo suddenly going to start dumping all his problems on him, too? Start accusing him of not grieving?
Before Gojo was even within five feet of him, Nanami was practically glowering with anger. Not only did he just want to be left alone right now, but he also didn’t have much lunch time left.
So when the strongest slipped next to him on the bench, already far too close, the blonde made the smart decision to ignore him completely.
“Nanaminnnnnn!” Gojo sang in an overly high-pitched voice, throwing an arm around his shoulder as if he wasn’t actively trying to eat. “Why are you all the way over here?” He tugged on Nanami’s shirt collar. “Aren’t you lonely?”
Nanami’s face grew hot instantly, from either embarrassment, anger, or something else. He wasn’t sure, but he was not a fan of the sensation.
“Leave me alone, Gojo.”
Gojo, strangely, gave up immediately, slumping half onto the table, groaning. “Whatever.”
They sat in the uncomfortable silence of the too-large room, the deafening quiet often being broken unpleasantly by Nanami’s hurried food-slurping, at least for a couple of minutes before Gojo spoke up again.
“Mei Mei and Utahime are going to be visiting next weekend.” He didn’t sound too thrilled about it, but Nanami immediately straightened.
Mei Mei and Utahime felt like sisters to him now. He would rather die than admit it, but it was true. Mei Mei was quiet just like him, but she held an air of certainty, of stability. Utahime was loud but shy, almost like Haibara, but…well, she was alive.
Maybe their presence could cut through this month-long silence.
Gojo snorted, lazily tilting his head to look at him, eyes softly searching his face from behind his glasses. The sunlight caught on his features, making him even harder to ignore than before. “You got a thing for Mei Mei or something?”
Nanami blinked owlishly. “Excuse me?”
The truth was, he actually did. But that was also, coincidentally, almost a year ago. Gojo watched the kaleidoscope of emotions (mainly horror) flash across Nanami’s usually stoic face in amusement.
“I- I genuinely don’t have a clue where you got that impression,” he sputtered, wiping his mouth with a napkin, but briefly using it to hide his rising flush. What was this interrogation for?
"What about Utahime? Do you like her?" Gojo…didn’t sound so teasing anymore.
Nanami took a brief break from inhaling his food to give him a well-deserved glare, but, defying his expectations, Gojo wasn't wearing his typical shit-eating grin.
Instead, his glasses were pushed up into his cotton hair, revealing his thoughtfully drawn together eyebrows, his eyes looking troubled as the younger boy met them.
"No, Gojo. I don't. Do you?" Nanami dared to snap back, letting his mask slip a little further, shoving a positively massive piece of bread in his mouth with a flourish of finality. Maybe it was to help choke back the growing lump in his throat.
It was no secret that Utahime liked Gojo, and despite the white-haired man's nonchalance towards the idea, there was no other reason for him to be asking Nanami this. He probably liked her.
Was Gojo really thinking about relationships right now? Or were the higher-ups starting to push for it?
After all, what more would they want than an arranged marriage between the strongest to-be sorcerer, and one of their most obedient, agreeable women? It made perfect sense, so Nanami didn't know why it bothered him so much.
Maybe he just felt bad for Utahime. Gojo couldn’t be an easy spouse to keep around.
Gojo made a face. "Of course not! She’s kinda old. I like them a bit…younger."
Instead of sighing in relief like he almost wanted to, Nanami stared at his emptied tray for a tick, his cheeks still uncomfortably puffed out from the bread, and slowly, painstakingly, turned back to Gojo.
His eyes were squinting, and his lips were quickly drawing downward, as if silently begging the older boy to rephrase that sentance.
Gojo froze, then suddenly shrieked deafeningly in horror, smacking the blonde's arm like an annoying, attention-seeking teenage girl. "Not like that, Nanamin!"
Despite his best efforts, Nanami's upper lip twitched upward. Truthfully, the only thing keeping him from laughing, (or at least, huffing in amusement), was the threat of choking.
Then he froze. That was his first smile since Haibara.
Satoru, however, gasped like a gaping fish at the little morsel of emotion, banging his hand on the table so hard that Shoko jumped like a cat from across the room.
"Was that a smile?!"
"No."
"Bullshit!”
—————————
Nanami and Gojo walked towards the dorms in comfortable silence, the dying light seeping through the hallway windows, casting orange silhouettes across the wooden walls, painting a portrait of warm reds and yellows.
He wouldn’t admit it to save his life, but this was quite peaceful, and Gojo’s presence, surprisingly, made it better.
“Should we do a movie night when Shoko gets relieved of morgue duty?” The older boy asked, shattering the quiet as they stopped in front of Nanami’s door.
“Can’t. Yaga gave me extra homework.” Even though he was telling the truth, guilt settled on Nanami’s shoulders. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than to not be alone. It was a stretch but…maybe he could invite Gojo in?
The boy in question stuffed his hands in his pockets, sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth, as if he was thinking. (That would be a first.) “Oh, by the way, Yaga told me that you and I have a mission together tomorrow.”
Never mind that idea.
Nanami’s eyes squinted in suspicion over his shoulder as he unlocked his room door. “How long did you know that?”
Missions with Gojo were becoming more and more common, since he wasn’t advanced enough to go on his own, Shoko didn’t really go out on the field, and Haibara was…damnit, he needed to stop thinking about him.
Gojo grimaced again, rocking back and forth on his heels, his hair swishing back and forth hypnotically. “It may have been…since this morning.”
Nanami stared at him blankly for what might have been a minute, just soaking in his ignorance, before shaking his head. “Okay, yeah, whatever,” and then he reluctantly closed the door, despite everything in him screaming not too.
Through the cursed energy, Nanami could tell that Gojo didn’t want to leave either, standing behind the door for a couple beats, before silently slipping away.