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Satoru arrives in the middle of the night, later than planned despite the fact the mission itself was quick and easy. His phone ran out of charge at some point and the train ride back was boring and long. He knew Nanami wouldn’t be waiting for him; both of them have work to do in the morning no matter what so it’s no surprise when Satoru gets to Nanami’s place and Nanami is already asleep.
Satoru stays over often enough that the place doesn’t feel strange to him anymore but not often enough that he would think of it as coming home. For a moment, he stands at the entrance and contemplates the silent darkness of the apartment, just wondering if he shouldn’t go back to the school. He knows he’s welcome here, that’s not the problem but, to be fair, he doesn’t know what is bothering him. Maybe he’s too tired to think clearly.
It’s been six days and counting without barely any sleep.
Satoru takes his shoes off and gets in. Suddenly, the urge to see Nanami washes over him. He doesn’t bother with the lights and walks to the bedroom without any trouble. He wants to confirm that Nanami is there; he wants to see his face again.
Nanami is already asleep.
Satoru watches him in the darkness of the bedroom for a moment. He feels relieved; Nanami is there. He takes off his blindfold and actually looks at Nanami. Nanami has his arm thrown over his eyes as if protecting them from some inexistent source of light. It makes Satoru smile a bit.
Even in the dark, Satoru can see Nanami’s soulmark clearly: an intricate pattern that curls and turns in what resembles a flower tattoo in white. A mark of loss that isn’t at all like Satoru’s own white soulmark.
That they are not a match doesn’t matter. In the Jujutsu world, it is encouraged to pay no attention to soulmarks; after all, no matter what, a Jujutsu Sorcerer can only die alone.
Satoru catches himself rubbing his wrist, right over his own whitened soulmark. The fact that a strange loneliness takes over him without any explanation means nothing. He looks away from Nanami’s soulmark. He’s overstepping an unspoken boundary anyway; they were always encouraged to not keep the marks on display.
Satoru feels like a creep standing there and looking at Nanami’s soulmark while he sleeps, so he finally moves from where he’s standing and walks to the bathroom. He undresses and gets ready to shower. The mission was easy and he’s physically tired, but he feels too dirty to go to bed even if he doesn’t feel like he’ll be able to sleep.
He gets in the shower and, for a couple of minutes he just stands there under the warm water, unmoving with his eyes closed. The day weights on him, the month weights on him.
“We are connected by loss,” he thinks without meaning to and without meaning it.
Suddenly, Satoru snaps out of it; to think something like that is unfair to Nanami. Their connection has nothing to do with the soulmates they’ve lost. He reaches for the soap, focuses on washing himself, but he keeps his eyes closed. Thinking about it now, Satoru isn’t sure he switched the lights on at all. It doesn’t really make a difference if he doesn’t open his eyes.
He wants this day to end already. The thing about insomnia is that after some time the days start blending in together and they don’t begin or end anymore. The days simply go on.
Satoru finishes washing himself and grabs a towel that seems to have been left there for him. He smiles a little; Nanami has always been a thoughtful person. It must have been a difficult imposition for him who had no previous ties to the Jujutsu world to be told to act as if he had been born without a soulmate.
Satoru wonders if it was difficult on Suguru, too. For Satoru, it was easy because he was never taught anything different. He catches himself rubbing the towel over his own soulmark. His thoughts keep straying to the subject and Satoru blames Suguru for it. He turned September into a difficult month.
Satoru shakes his head and continues drying his body. It’s odd that Satoru mourns Suguru on the wrong date, but everything was set in motion when Suguru left. That he died in December means something, of course, it does, but he left in September.
September is the month everything went to shit; Haibara died, Suguru left. Nanami was left with a white soulmark and Satoru with the promise to follow suit.
Satoru sighs. What does it matter anyway? His head is a mess.
“Shitty month,” he says softly to himself and walks back into the bedroom, naked except for the towel around his shoulders. He glances at Nanami still asleep. Satoru blows out the air and turns back to Nanami’s wardrobe to find some clothes he left behind now and then. By the time he’s dressed he doesn’t feel tired anymore.
The Jujutsu world is selfish. Satoru himself is selfish, too.
Haibara died, Suguru died, Satoru is happy with Nanami and September will always be a shitty month.
It’s early morning when Nanami wakes up. Satoru is in his kitchen, sitting in the grey darkness of sunrise. Satoru made himself some tea a while ago, but, despite adding copious amounts of sugar, he still didn’t care much for the taste. He’s still not wearing his blindfold. Satoru has his eyes closed and his head propped up on his hand. His phone is charging in front of him.
Nanami walks into the kitchen in pajamas and with his hair still messy from sleep; Satoru smiles a little.
“This habit of yours is rather shitty,” Nanami says and turns the lights on.
“Mm?” Satoru replies and opens his eyes to look at him.
“Stopping by to creep around the place.”
“When I arrived you were already asleep. I figured I wouldn’t wake you up.”
“Don’t you have your own place like any respectable person should?” Nanami asks and Satoru laughs at that. He watches as Nanami opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water.
Satoru takes a sip of his sugary tea. It’s cold now, and disgusting. Nanami looks at him.
“Have you slept?”
Satoru shrugs but doesn’t reply. Concern crosses Nanami’s eyes and he reaches out and cups Satoru’s cheek, tracing under the eye bag under his right eye. It’s sweet of Nanami to worry, but this isn’t a new occurrence so Satoru wishes he wouldn’t. Satoru leans into his touch and closes his eyes.
“Maybe I could sleep if I was allowed to put my head in your lap to do so.”
Nanami snorts a laugh and pulls his hand back. He takes another sip from the water bottle and Satoru catches a glimpse of his soulmark.
They are not a match, but that doesn’t matter. It has never mattered to Satoru; he has never cared about the dragonfly on his own wrist so why should he care about Nanami's soulmark? Satoru frowns. It’s just a little odd that everything happened as it did and that now he’s here with Nanami. It feels like fate blessed him.
It didn't. Clearly, it didn't, or else their marks would match.
Nanami catches him looking and raises an eyebrow at him. Satoru makes a face but doesn’t apologize nor explains himself.
“I was thinking we could go someplace for breakfast,” Satoru says and then adds before Nanami can protest: “On the way to the school.”
Nanami is tempted, Satoru can tell, and gives him a short nod after a few seconds.
“I’ll get dressed.”
Satoru grins at him. This should help improve his mood.
Satoru sits in front of Nanami, ignoring the disapproval he knows is there even if Nanami doesn’t say a word about Satoru and his cake. The cake doesn’t taste all that good, so Satoru is glad he doesn’t have to defend it.
“Say, Nanami,” he begins, but he isn’t sure what he expects Nanami to tell him. He frowns a little and stops talking.
Nanami waits in silence. He pushes his glasses back in place and reaches out for his coffee. Like this, wearing a dress shirt and his suit, it’s almost impossible to see Nanami’s soulmark. Like this, Satoru shouldn't be bothered by it. No, he shouldn't be bothered by it at all. This day is a little weird; his thoughts are a little weird. Maybe he's tired.
“Do you think we are a good match?” Satoru asks shamelessly.
Nanami takes a long time to answer. He takes a sip of his coffee, pauses, and sets the cup back on the table. Satoru pokes his slice of cake with the spoon.
“It doesn’t suit you to act insecure,” Nanami says.
Satoru wants to say that’s not what’s happening, but, truth be told, he isn’t sure what’s happening. He feels awkward. He’s twenty-eight and, for the first time in his life, Satoru feels like a soulmark could matter.
He wonders if this is jealousy and he feels that it’s a little absurd to be jealous of a dead man.
“I think,” Nanami goes on. “That we are a terrible match. Nevertheless, I have strong enough feelings on the matter to go against that.”
Without any other warning but Nanami’s own words, Satoru's feelings for Nanami overwhelm him. He feels incredibly lucky that things played out as they did so that they can be in this place together like they are now, connected like they are now. He smiles and looks up at Nanami. For a moment, he considers taking off his blindfold just so they can make eye contact, but Nanami has his glasses on, so it’d be pointless.
“You love me,” Satoru accuses him and Nanami glares at him. It doesn’t matter; Satoru knows he is right.
“Yes,” Nanami says, despite his annoyance and embarrassment.
“Me too,” Satoru says, leaving it vague to not push his luck too far. “But I do think we are a good match.”
Nanami seems skeptical, but he doesn’t ask Satoru to elaborate. Satoru isn’t sure how to put this feeling into words right now, so he doesn’t say anything else. Satoru feels loved and happy; he feels like fate itself likes him.
The Jujutsu world is selfish. Satoru himself is selfish, too.
Haibara died, Suguru died, September will always be a shitty month, but Satoru is happy.
He makes a silly face at Nanami and goes back to his cake. The taste doesn’t bother him as much anymore.
Nanami picks up his cup of coffee again.
“I love you,” Satoru mouths at him before taking a spoonful of the cake.
“You need to sleep. You get weird when you don’t,” Nanami tells him, and Satoru is pleased to notice that there is a light blush on Nanami’s cheeks.