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They overslept. It was so easy to become completely pulled into Gojo’s bed with Megumi’s gentle heartbeat between their chests and Gojo’s foot skimming across his calf. The comfort of the space was simply overkill; considering his injuries, Nanami was pretty sure he could have slept for three days straight.
But then there was a polite knock at the door and Nanami cracked his eyes open at the morning light. For a second he thought he had imagined the sound until the bedroom door slowly slid open.
Tsumiki immediately wandered to the left side of the bed where Gojo had his back to her. She gave him a few shoves.
“Satoru-san. Satoru-san! Get up! Megumi is gonna be late!”
Gojo grumbled under the comforter and released the arm he had around Megumi to shuffle deeper into the sheets. When his head vanished beneath the duvet that’s when Tsumiki seemed to notice Nanami for the first time.
Nanami, even in his sleep-ridden state, began to panic. Was this weird for the Fushiguro’s, was it appropriate for them to see an adult who didn’t live here in Gojo’s bed? Even if they trusted him, this was not normal for Nanami to stay the night.
A horrible thought crossed Nanami’s mind: what if the Fushiguro’s were used to seeing other adults staying the night? Nanami didn’t think Gojo would do that but the thought still made him feel very uneasy. He sat up in bed and strained against the gash on his chest.
If Tsumiki was bothered or shocked by Nanami being there she didn’t show it at all. Quite the opposite.
“Good morning Nanami-san! Are you coming with us?”
Nanami blinked back at her.
“Nanami-san? Why are you not wearing clothes?” Megumi rubbed his eyes and asked.
Nanami looked down at himself. Oh, hell. He was only in his briefs from the day before and had abandoned Gojo’s borrowed shirt at the foot of the bed. He must have kicked it off onto the floor because now that he wanted it, it wasn’t there.
Nanami tried to formulate an answer that didn’t involve either child seeing him in his underwear. The large cocoon of blankets shifted around next to him. Nanami nearly leaped from the bed when a hand touched his hip and snapped the waistband of his briefs against his skin.
“Nope, he’s wearing clothes. I checked,” Gojo announced from next to Nanami’s thigh. Then suddenly the sorcerer sat up on his knees and threw back the covers over his own head. “Wait! Tsumiki, what time is it?!”
Gojo was wearing more clothes than Nanami, barely. He wore a shirt with his underwear but that was it, so close in the bed their bare thighs scraped against each other as Gojo moved around.
“Uh, like half-past nine I think?”
“Damn! What did I do in a past life for this shit?” Nanami watched, still glued to the mattress as Gojo hopped off the bed and lifted Megumi out of the sheets. He clearly had no qualms about being in his underwear in front of them and not even Tsumiki was phased.
“Tsumiki, my angel, my best friend, my saint among saints, I need you to do me a huge favor.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll feed him. I need breakfast too.”
“You are a hero. There’s sliced fruit in a tub in the fridge,” Gojo started digging around in his dresser drawers. “Also, get some toast. He needs sugar and carbs.”
“I can make my own toast,” Megumi protested. Tsumiki waited patiently by the doorway.
“Yeah, but how do you plan on reaching the bread drawer, shorty?”
Megumi crossed his little arms, looked Gojo dead in the eye, and said, “Bathroom stool.” Gojo mimicked the pose. Ah, the teacher and his student.
“Ok, smart ass, now go put on your uniform and brush your teeth.”
“Why would I brush my teeth now if I’m just gonna eat again in five minutes?”
Gojo dramatically put his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs. “You can stay and keep arguing with me but I’m going to take these off and change. Your choice!”
Both children groaned and made disgusted noises as they took off down the hall. Gojo closed the door and suddenly the room was very quiet and Nanami was still missing quite a few layers of clothing.
Gojo flopped down face-first onto the bed, half of his body hanging off and onto the floor. He groaned into the sheets loud and ridiculously. Nanami still had no clue what the correct thing was to say in this situation. This was all very new territory. Mostly he just wanted to know if other adults had spent their mornings like this with Gojo and where he could get a very strong cup of coffee.
“I can’t believe I actually have a half-naked Nanami Kento in my bed and I’m gonna go watch grade school kids be shit at baseball,” Gojo whined into the bed.
“Well, even if you didn’t have plans to go to Megumi’s game I don’t plan on staying half-naked in your bed for you to do anything about it.”
“Would you go full-naked?” Gojo rolled his head to the side to look up at Nanami and smiled.
“No. Aren’t you going to be late?”
Gojo stood and grabbed a hold of his phone. He pulled off his sleep shirt and pressed the phone to his ear. While it rang he wandered back to the clothes he had pulled from a dresser drawer and tugged on his pants.
Nanami finally found the clothes he had discarded last night and got redressed while Gojo talked.
“Good morning, Ijichi. We are running a little late this morning. Yeah, shocker, good joke. Yeah, 9:50 should be plenty of time. Wait let me double-check on that headcount,” Gojo turned a wicked smile onto Nanami. “Are you coming to the bake sale?”
Nanami shouldn’t. He wasn’t formally connected to any of the players and had no real reason to go. Sure, he had helped make the cream pan but that was the end of it. Still meeting that Koushi woman did sound interesting.
“No. Thank you.”
“Yeah, Ijchi, it's actually gonna be four of us today.”
“Gojo, I’m not coming.”
“Fresh air will do you good. Plus you made the buns, you should get credit for it. The other moms will never believe I made those.”
“I don’t even have my own clothes and I am not wearing these sweatpants.”
“But they frame your ass so well. Everyone will love them.”
“It’s a children’s baseball game, Gojo.”
Ten minutes later Nanami was seated at the kotatsu with a Fushiguro on either side of him. They were all happily munching toast with honey and sharing a large tub of sliced melon. Nanami inhaled the intense fumes coming off his very black coffee. It was acidic and bitter in stark comparison to the fruit. The front door slammed open and Gojo came back inside.
He plucked Nanami’s coffee cup from his hands and took a long gulp. In exchange, he dumped a small duffle into Nanami’s lap. Nanami instantly recognized it. It was his mission overnight bag that he kept in his office should he need to leave for an assignment straight from campus.
“How did you get this?”
“Your office,” Gojo said, taking another sip of Nanami’s coffee.
“I didn’t ask where, I asked how.”
“You know how, Nanami, you’re a clever boy. Now go get changed. We are leaving soon.”
“Nanami-san is coming with us?” Tsumiki asked, sucking the honey from her sticky fingers. “That’s awesome! Megumi is really good and then you’ll see I’m right about Koushi-kun.”
Nanami was still refusing Gojo’s push for him to tag along but Tsumiki seemed very excited. Nanami had never really thought about what she must do during Megumi’s games besides just sit and watch. Maybe, Nanami thought sadly, she gets lonely.
There was also that second thing she said about the Koushi-boy. Nanami was very interested in seeing him. Just the thought of a cute boy around Tsumiki or Megumi made a protective bolt flare-up in his chest.
Then he thought about the bake sale and the cream pan. This game day was special for that reason. Maybe Gojo needed more help between the two events and two kids and couldn't admit it. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Nanami watched Tsumiki’s hopeful face and made up his mind. This was stupid. Cream pan and Gojo and baseball moms. Nanami must have been completely out of his tired, injured mind. That’s what must be pushing him to say yes, his injuries were making his judgment funny.
Nanami stood, slinging the mission bag over his arm and putting a hand into Megumi’s spikey hair. The boy was unbothered by the touch and continued to get toast crumbs in the spine of his manga.
“Yes, I’d like to help however I can. Besides, I’ve never seen Megumi play before.”
“It’s nothing special,” Megumi said flatly.
“That’s not true, Megumi-chan,” Gojo defended, frowning deep.
Nanami disappeared back into Gojo’s bathroom. He quickly slipped on the dark slacks and a pale yellow button-up that he kept in the overnight bag. It wasn’t as casual as Gojo’s jeans but with the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows it was much more appropriate than the practically pornographic sweatpants and Gojo’s oversized shirt.
These clothes smelled like him, his office, and his apartment. They were very different from Gojo’s. After a brief second of hesitation, Nanami lifted the shirt he had borrowed to his nose. He closed his eyes and took a deep inhale.
It smelled like the bungalow and Gojo’s sheets. It smelled a little of the cream pan they had baked the night before. It smelled like everything familiar and warm and everything Nanami wouldn’t have when he went back to his apartment that night.
It also smelled like something Nanami couldn’t quite place. It was a clean and soft smell, just as familiar as the rest but different from Gojo.
A knock at the door disrupted Nanami’s thoughts and he dropped the shirt.
“Hurry the fuck up. Ride’s here. I’m sure you’re gonna be the prettiest girl at the ball, so no worries,” Gojo called sarcastically through the door.
Nanami stepped out of the bathroom and found all three of them looking at him. Megumi huffed and twiddled his baseball cap in his hands. Tsumiki had her hair back in a ponytail, the only hairstyle Gojo seemed to be half-decent at.
“I’m not sure how it will be possible to be the prettiest. Unless is Tsumiki not coming?”
“Of course I’m coming with you!”
“Then, I’ve already lost,” Nanami stated matter of factly. Megumi rolled his eyes when Tsumiki started to smile. Nanami picked her up just as he had yesterday and held her against his side. She really was growing up too fast. She instinctively put her slender arms around his neck.
His injuries still hurt but it was more a dull ache. It was worth it to hear Gojo’s half-jealous squawks follow them through the hall and out onto the front doorstep. Nanami and Ijichi shared a semi-awkward exchange of greetings. Ijichi looked at him as if he had finally gone mad. In many ways he probably had.
The other three passengers fought over who had to take the middle and clambered in. Ijichi paused before opening the door for Nanami and the cream pan. He opened his mouth to speak, likely to ask a rather invasive question about why Nanami was with Gojo first thing in the morning. Ijichi started to speak but then just closed his mouth and opened the car door. Trying to explain sleeping in Gojo’s bed but not actually sleeping with Gojo wasn’t an appealing thought to Nanami.
He rode up front with two of the three containers of the cream pan, the third rested on Gojo’s lap in the back seat. The lanky sorcerer was wedged into the backseat and his knees were drawn up tight due to a lack of legroom.
The drive was short but quiet, only Tsumiki’s and Gojo’s voices filling the mildly uncomfortable void. The baseball field was in the center of a large grassy park outside the metropolitan area of Tokyo. Next to the entrance to the dugout was a large table with several posters announcing the bake sale. Everything was covered in burgundy and dark blue including the signs and the plastic tablecloth.
Megumi took off as soon as the car stopped, running over to the dung out where several other boys sat wearing matching uniforms. Nanami tried to scan their faces looking for anyone who matched Tsumiki’s description of Koushi-kun.
Gojo was standing very close to Nanami as they approached the bake sale table. Practically brushing shoulders. One of the women pointed at him and several heads of long hair turned to look at them. Gojo leaned in close and whispered.
“See the skinny brunette who looks like she’s sitting on a screwdriver? That’s Koushi-sama.”
“I wonder why she doesn’t like you when you only speak so fondly of her.”
“Eat me, Nanami. The woman’s a bitch. I hope she chokes on a cookie.”
“Not a cream bun?”
“Then they’d think I did something to them.”
“You are being dramatic. It’s a children's bake sale.”
There was a singular open spot on the table Nanami guessed was for the goods they had brought. The women behind the booth eyed him suspiciously as he set down the wide plate and uncovered the immaculate cream pan.
They were perfect. A light golden color signified a crunchy exterior. The pristine swirl of extra custard on top of each one may have been overkill but Nanami knew from the looks on the mothers faces that it was worth all those hand cramps.
If they were any more uniform they might have looked store-bought but Nanami had specially included some of Gojo’s handiwork on each of the three plates to prevent such an accusation. Gojo handed the other two plates of buns over to a shorter ginger woman, who added them to a stack of tupperwares under the table.
“Wow, Gojo-san, those look incredible. I guess that makes up for you almost being late.”
“Good morning, Koushi-sama. You know I have found that being the last at something usually makes you the most memorable and how fortunate for all of us I am perfectly on time.”
“Today.”
Gojo tensed next to Nanami, he watched as Gojo’s lips curved into a vicious smile. The shorter woman looked between the teacher and Koushi-sama waiting for one of them to make the next move. Nanami found that he was also watching and waiting. He cleared his throat and dipped a hand into his breast pocket.
He pulled out a small folded piece of card stock that had the name of the desert, a little list of allergy-sensitive ingredients, and the Fushiguro name written in his best handwriting. Today was a day for maxim effort after all.
“Koushi-sama, is it? Here is a label for the cream pan. We weren’t sure what allergies to be sensitive to.”
She accepted the tent of paper then examined Nanami very closely. Then she looked to Gojo who just smiled. She gingerly set the card down in front of the buns. When she looked back up, Nanami was already extending a hand out in greeting.
She took it and shook it twice. Nanami didn’t miss the way she looked at his watch then his outfit. He knew when he was being sized up.
“My name is Nanami Kento. It’s a pleasure to finally meet some of Fushiguro-kun’s team, I’m very much looking forward to the game.”
“Koushi Saeko, I’m Junta’s mother. Tell me, Nanami-san did you make these lovely cream buns?”
She had complimented the baked goods but the small glance she threw at Gojo gave her away. She didn’t think for a second Gojo had made them. While it was partially right, the attitude she innately held about Gojo made Nanami’s shoulders tighten.
“No actually, it’s my mother’s recipe but it was the other three who spent hours in the kitchen. I believe they came out almost as good as when I was a kid.”
Gojo’s smile flattered and he stared into the side of Nanami’s head. He didn’t turn to share the stare, just patted Tsumiki on the shoulder next to him. She took the hint and stepped up to the table.
“I made the custard! Well, Gojo-san helped me with it when it got hot so I wouldn’t burn myself, but I measured it all and everything.”
She told the half-lie with such perfect inflection that Nanami didn’t know if he should be proud or concerned. Gojo looked quite pleased. That look would fade when she got better at that in high school, Nanami thought.
“Oh, that’s -- well, that’s nice. I wasn’t aware you would have time to spend so long in the kitchen given your often hectic work schedule. I’m glad you were able to come this weekend, let alone find time to do this.”
She likely didn’t know it, but Nanami guessed she was referring to how the school often sent Gojo away on weekends for long-distance and international assignments. Gojo spent every single spare minute on the Fushiguro’s and Nanami was starting to get annoyed.
Gojo must have missed a few games here and there due to the school's assignment system. Nanami wondered why Gojo had never complained about it before or asked Nanami to come instead.
Because it wasn’t Nanami’s business, a cold voice reminded him. This wasn’t his family and Megumi wasn’t his kid. Tsumiki put her hand into Nanami's, loosening the fingers he had unconsciously pulled into a fist.
Maybe for today, they could be. Even if it’s just for today, Nanami could pretend and maybe then at the end, Koushi-sama would choke on that cookie.
“There is nothing I would rather do with my time than be here. I’m sure you understand that,” Gojo said coolly. He bent down to the table and gripped the pen resting there tightly. On a piece of paper, he quickly wrote out a small list with numbers next to the names of some of the sweet treats. He handed the paper to the small ginger who started loading the listed items onto a paper plate. “Everything looks wonderful this year. Especially your banana bread, though I hope there’s less fiber in it this time.”
Nanami watched the ginger work quickly, she avoided the banana bread entirely and instead picked up two of the cream buns onto the plate. She secured the entire thing with cling wrap and set it behind the table next to other similarly wrapped plates.
“Taking some of your own cream pan, Gojo-san?” Koushi questioned.
Gojo smiled and threw an arm around Nanami’s shoulders, leaning into him. “I have to taste the Nanami-family recipe don’t I?”
“Surely you must be able to -- Junta, dear, what’s wrong?” Koushi-sama’s entire tone and expression changed when her son and Megumi approached the table. Tsumiki gave Nanami’s hand a small squeeze in excitement.
Yeah, no.
Koushi-kun may have nice freckles but he was nothing to get worked up about and Nanami was not impressed. He was slightly taller than Megumi and looked about a year or so older. He had his mother’s hard line of a mouth. His eyes must have been his father’s, too friendly to be from the mother’s side. Megumi was standing pretty close to the other boy when he noticed Tsumiki staring he glared and stuck out his tongue.
Instead of answering his mother the young boy took off his batting helmet and approached Gojo.
“Excuse me, Gojo Sensei?”
Gojo’s pale eyebrows shot up over his glasses and he looked to Koushi-sama quickly then he squatted down low so he could be face to face with the boy.
“Yes, Koushi-kun? Can I help you?”
“Would you be able to, well, I know you’re good at baseball, so would you,” the boy stuttered out, he was clearly nervous talking to Gojo and kept looking up at his mother.
“He wants to ask if you’ll --”
“Do not interrupt people, Megumi,” Gojo chided.
“You interrupted me.”
“I’m an adult, I’m allowed to be hypocritical.” Nanami was pretty sure neither of the boys knew what ‘hypocritical’ meant but Megumi closed his mouth anyway. Nanami would have to reevaluate the definition for adult as it applied to Gojo. Koushi-kun took a quick breath and pushed out his request quickly.
“Will you please be our umpire today? Kaji-sama isn’t feeling well, we would also like your help warming up!” Koushi-kun dipped into a bow at the waist and Megumi rolled his eyes. Maybe Koushi-kun wasn’t so bad after all, still didn’t make him good enough for either Fushiguro, even if he was, like, nine.
“Of course, I’d like to Koushi-kun.” Koushi-sama opened her mouth to speak but Gojo continued. “But your mother has graciously scheduled me for the first shift of the bake sale so I can’t.”
Koushi-kun’s face fell and Nanami instantly understood.
Gojo was late to everything. Nanami was pretty sure he would be late to his own funeral someday. Koushi-sama must have intentionally signed him up for the first stint of the game so that if he was late she could bitch about him missing his turn.
“I’ll take his turn,” Nanami said. He had heard himself speak but didn’t quite recall consenting to the action. “I can’t help with the baseball but I can watch the table with Koushi-sama.”
“Nanami, are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t. The longer you wait to get started the longer I have to wait to start your shift.”
“Thank you, Nanami-san!” Koushi-kun bowed again this time to Nanami. Gojo gave him a long hard stare that he couldn’t quite read. That usually meant he was feeling something very intensely, only God knew what.
Tsumiki also released his hand to go watch the game, quickly latching onto Gojo’s large hand instead. When they were gone he was alone with Koushi-sama. The slender brunette watched him as he came around to the other side of the table. She handed him a set of rubber gloves and a pair of tongs for picking up baked goods.
“That was very kind of you,” she commented, nothing about her tone was complimentary.
“I thought it the most practical solution. Gojo-san is very good with the kids and the sport.”
“Now that I have noticed. However, I have never noticed Gojo-san show any interest in baking.”
She was trying to call his earlier bluff. She had no way of knowing she was speaking to an ex-stoke broker. Making fake assurances with ease was part of his daily life for a while.
“I’ll admit, I was surprised too when he asked for my mother’s recipe. I half expected him to go out and buy something instead. If I hadn’t watched the three of them work with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it either,” Koushi-sama looked a little surprised at what she thought was his honesty. “Though I have to tell you Gojo never stops surprising me with how far he is willing to go for the Fushiguros.”
Now that was honest, maybe a bit too honest. Koushi-same gave him another once over as he served a few brownies to a young teenager, likely a player’s sibling.
“If only he could spare some time to find someone to help him go above and beyond.”
“The way I see it, there is no reason to sacrifice the time he loves with them to find someone when they are perfectly content as is.”
“Is there something wrong with being even more content?”
“Is there something that proves a romantic partner will provide that?”
They made eye contact. He was clearly getting on her nerves. Good. Nanami had no reason to be likable and he certainly couldn’t hurt Gojo’s rapport with this woman. Nanami decided he wasn’t finished even if she was content to give him the silent treatment.
“Besides, isn’t it also possible that the time Gojo-san would spend on finding a partner could take away from the time he spends with the siblings, and therefore would actually decrease the contentment of their family unit?”
“Children need a maternal figure. Adding a mother to their lives would only be beneficial. Poor Tsumiki constantly surrounded by men, makes you worry doesn’t it?
There was an odd edge to her voice now. It was hinting at something, something Nanami didn’t think was her business. As if any of it was.
“I suppose I may not fully understand what a mother’s role is, then. How it differs from simply parental.”
“Are you married, Nanami-san?”
Nanami allowed himself a small tongue click. This question was bound to come up with this woman.
“No, I am not.”
“Then of course you wouldn't understand. Children need mothers to make them good food, brush their hair, care for them when they are sick, and teach them practical things for their own homes. There is so much they are missing.”
Nanami’s mind raced with visions of sliced fruit, braided brown hair, and bowls of half-eaten udon. He thought of tear stains on Gojo’s shirt and a warm kitchen. His jaw was starting to hurt from clenching. It took every ounce of self control Nanami had not to shove his phone in Koushi-sama’s face and remind her this was the twenty-first fucking century. Those things were parental roles not strictly maternal ones.
“Are men incapable of doing those things, Koushi-sama?” Nanami tried to sound as earnest as possible. He caught the eye of the shorter ginger woman. She looked very uncomfortable, Nanami tried to send her a comforting smile. She blushed and smiled back.
Koushi-sama was stunned by the question enough not to notice.
“Well, I- no, but it’s different.”
“Would you like to try a cream bun? My treat.”
Nanami selected one of the best-looking cream pan and offered it on a napkin to the ginger. She looked at Koushi-sama like she needed permission to take the bun. She smiled carefully and accepted the baked good like it was made of glass.
“Ah, thank you! It looks wonderful!”
“You’ll have to tell me how you like it, miss?”
“Mrs. Amakata. And your name is Nanami, yes? You came with Megumi.”
She lifted the bun to her mouth. She looked to Koushi-sama again, who was so quiet Nanami knew she was watching. Amakata-sama finally took a bite after an encouraging nod from Nanami. Her face instantly lit up.
“Oh, wow, I - these are so good! Gojo-san made these?” She took another larger bite. A little bit of custard filling smeared at the corner of her mouth. “And a family recipe too? That is just too sweet.”
“Yes, Gojo-san made them with the Fushiguros. As for the recipe, my mother would be very happy to see children making it. She’d like me to keep it in the family.”
Nanami realized a second too late that he had just inadvertently claimed the Fushiguro’s as his family and by extension; Gojo. He blinked but Amakata just smiled and licked her sticky fingers.
“Koushi-sama, you really must try one before they sell out, Gojo-san has outdone himself this year.” Amakata pointed to the dwindling supply of cream pan. They were selling much faster than anything else, including the banana bread.
Koushi-sama actually scoffed at that. “Amakata-san, we are supposed to be selling these to people watching the game.” She glared at Nanami who just looked back pretending to be unbothered.
“Nanami-san! Nanami-san, I need your help!” Tsumiki’s high voice broke the staring contest and Nanami turned to watch the small brunette run up to the bake sale table. A spike of panic rose in Nanami, he quickly searched her face and body for any signs of blood, injury or discomfort. She looked fine.
“What is wrong?”
“Are you blind? My hair, Nanami-san!”
The Fushiguro’s must have been psychic. There was absolutely no other explanation for her perfect timing. Her high ponytail had come irreversibly undone and was now totally lopsided. She dramatically pulled the hair tie out and shook her head letting fizzy strands fall around her face. Nanami was a little unsure what she wanted him to do about it. He had no clue what to do with long hair.
“Does it have to be up?”
“Yes, Nanami-san! The fifth inning is about to end and the boys are gonna take a break. Koushi-kun will see it like this.”
Koushi-sama giggled behind Nanami. She walked up next to them and bent down condescending into Tsumiki’s space.
“How cute! Here sweetie. I’ll do it up for you.”
“No thank you, Koushi-sama,” Tsumiki spoke with perfect manners but her eyes were slanted and flat. She was a hero. She held the small tie between her pointer finger and thumb, offering it to Nanami.
Nanami slipped off his rubber gloves and bent down onto one knee. When he accepted the elastic she automatically turned so that the back of her head faced him.
“What would you like?”
“A bun please. Very high.”
Nanami took a deep breath. This was going to be rough. He scooped up all her hair into a fist and lifted it high. He repeatedly combed his fingers across the top of her small head smoothing out the folds in hair, trying his best to pull the ends higher and tighter.
When he was satisfied with the placement he twisted the hair as best he could before folding it down into a rough doughnut shape. He used all his concentration and pulled the hair tie over the knot twice.
Tsumiki tensed as if something had pinched her but she didn’t cry out or adjust the hair. She simply spun around and smiled. It wasn’t actually all that terrible. It could have been a lot better but for his first try ever it was passable. Gojo had been exaggerating when he complained so much.
Nanami reached up and pulled out a small strand of hair on either side of her face. He had seen Utahime-san do it several times in high school and it always looked nice. She wandered back in front of the bake sale booth and looked Koushi-sama right in the eye.
“Excuse me. May I please have a cream bun? You can add it to Gojo’s order.”
Koushi-sama looked up at Nanami as he had asked for the cream pan and not Tsumiki.
“Is Gojo-san ok with you getting a sweet so close to lunch?”
“Oh, I’m not going to eat the whole thing.”
“You shouldn’t waste food,” Koushi-sama chided as she placed a bun onto a napkin.
“Could you please cut it in half?”
Tsumiki waited patiently and Koushi-sama’s brows furrowed. Nanami found a small plastic knife and cut into the bun. It was a little rough and custard squeezed out of it but it was in half. Tsumiki smiled profusely and thanked them both. She started walking her slightly crooked hair bun and cut cream pan back towards the diamond.
The inning must have finished as several boys were filling out on the grass in front of the fenced-off game. Nanami watched intently as Tsumiki proudly marched over to Koushi-kun, his freckles recognizable from here.
As much as Nanami hated Tsumiki winning over a boy with his baked goods, the look on Koushi-sama’s face was priceless as she watched her own son eat the other half of the cream pan. Cream pan she hadn’t given permission for him to eat, made by Gojo from Tsumiki. It was beautiful.
Nanami’s shift at the bake sale ended when the next inning started. He got to watch the latter half of the game next to Tsumiki. Every time she waved at Koushi-kun and he smiled back, Nanami would glare until the boy’s focus went back to the game.
Gojo ended up calling an out on Megumi and ended the game in a hometeam loss. When the quartet returned to the bake sale table all the cream pan was gone and about two-thirds of the banana bread loaf remained.
Gojo walked up to pay for his plate of baked goods that had been set aside. He was quickly swarmed by several other moms and a singular dad. He smiled big but fake as he accepted their compliments about the cream pan as well as his game calls.
Nanami pulled out his phone to let Ijichi know that they were ready to leave when the entire group turned to look at him. They were all smiling at him and a few waved. He noticed a second later that Gojo was pointing at him and talking.
A few minutes later the crowd around Gojo had dispersed and their ride was waiting by the curb. Gojo hung an arm around Nanami’s shoulder as they walked across the grass. The Fushiguro’s were bickering about Koushi-kun again. Megumi’s cheeks were rosy as Tsumiki giggled.
“Where to?” Ijichi asked once everyone was properly buckled.
“Home, obviously,” Gojo replied before shoving a brownie into his mouth. Nanami looked into the rearview mirror at their faces; Megumi, red and bright from exercise, Tsumiki’s semi-acceptable hair bun and Gojo’s puffed out cheeks. His chest ached a little. His mission bag filled with his bloody, torn suit still sat at his feet.
It reminded him that he was only a guest in their home. That his own, empty apartment was waiting for him in the city. There would be no sliced melon, no one in his bed, no soft shirts that smelled like Gojo waiting for him. He looked out the window, away from their content faces.
“My apartment will be fine, thank you Ijichi.”
The car acquired a brief, sad silence. Nanami thought maybe he was projecting but another glance at the mirror suggested maybe he wasn’t alone in his disappointment. Nobody corrected him. Gojo didn’t tease or make a sexual suggestion. They all sat in the sad reality that ‘home’ meant saying goodbye to Nanami.
They arrived at his apartment first. The tall building looked cold and lifeless. Nanami stepped out with only his duffle after thanking Ijichi for the ride. Megumi rolled down the back window.
“Thank you for coming to my game, Nanami-san, and making the cream pan.”
“It was a pleasure to watch you play and cook with you. Goodbye.”
Tsumiki waved and said her own goodbye as the window rolled up. Gojo got out of the car.
“Oi, Nanami wait! You forgot something,” Gojo called after him. Gojo held out his hand which held a napkin wrapped around one of the two cream pan he had bought. “Your cream pan.”
Nanami stared down at the custard swirl and his chest tightened in that way that only Gojo could make happen. He wanted to refuse it, make Gojo take both buns. He accepted it and dropped his bag.
Nanami pulled Gojo into a hug. A tight one that the other sorcerer immediately reciprocated. It made all his healing injuries scream out but he didn’t care. He took one last deep breath of Gojo, took one last second to bask in his warmth and familiarity.
When they pulled back Gojo didn’t go far, his large hand rested against the side of Nanami’s neck. His thumb gently rubbed at Nanami’s sharp jaw. They stared for just a moment. He watched Gojo’s face with that same stillness he knew masked intensity underneath.
He wanted to kiss him. Wanted to get back in the car and let himself sink into Gojo’s life, into his home. He wanted to wake up tomorrow just like he had that morning. He wanted to get better at hair buns and watch Megumi resist using his cursed energy on bat swings. He wanted to make more cream pan.
The two sets of eyes watching them from the back seat of the car reminded him of his own words. A romantic partner could reduce the contentment of their family unit. That’s what they were; a family. As much as Nanami wanted to be, he wasn’t a part of it. At the end of the day, he would always have to say goodbye to them.
But he could allow himself these small moments of pretending.
“If you can’t make it to one of the games. Call me," Nanami ordered.
“Ok,” Gojo’s lips pulled up into a half-smile.
“If you ever feel like attempting to use the oven again. Call me.”
“Now that’s a bit rude don’t you think?”
“And if you need me. Never send me one of those awful texts ever again.”
“I’ll call you.”
Nanami put his hand over Gojo’s on his neck, slid his fingers slightly between the long slender ones.
“Get some rest, Kento. Eat your cream pan.”
“Goodbye Satoru.”
Gojo swallowed and tensed his hand like he was thinking. Considering something. Finally, he pulled his hand from Nanami’s skin, away from his hand, and walked back to his car door. Nanami waved and watched as the car took them down the street and away from him.
His apartment was cold and exactly the same as ever. He switched on the lights and went through the motions of emptying and refilling his mission bag in silence. He showered and put on his sweats and a t-shirt, ones that smell only of his own detergent.
He sat at his breakfast bar and took a bite from the cream pan. It was delicious. He rubbed his pointer finger and thumb over his tired eyes. Willed himself not to cry. Not because he didn’t want to or thought he shouldn’t. But because crying over Gojo would mean that he was too far in, too in love, and too attached to ever get unstuck. Too attached to Megumi and Tsumiki and Gojo and their little home in that warm bungalow.
Gojo slid back into his seat in the back of the car. He could have taken Nanami’s now empty spot upfront but he preferred to look down into Tsumiki’s face and next to her side rather than take Ijeichi’s knowing stare without the filter of the mirror.
He sighed and put his usual easy-going smile onto his face. The Fushiguro’s were not convinced.
“Satoru-san, couldn’t Nanami have come back with us?” Tsumiki asked carefully. She already knew the answer. Why did she make him answer? She knew it sucked.
“Because he doesn’t live with us.”
“You’re so stupid, Satoru,” Megumi stated over his crossed arms. He wasn’t being cruel, if anything his voice sounded sad.
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Hey, hurry up Ijichi. My legs are cramping like a bitch back here.”
Gojo went to change out his gameday clothes once they were back at the bungalow. He stared at the unmade bed for just a little too long. He shook his head trying to displace the uncomfortable hollow feeling in his chest.
On the bathroom floor in a crumpled pile was the sleep shirt he had loaned to Nanami. It was cold from resting on the tile all day. Even though it was dirty and on the floor Gojo couldn’t help himself. He lifted the fabric to his face, taking a small breath from the collar. He smelled his own shampoo and the familiar smell of his house so subtle it was barely noticeable.
He also smelled a little of the Fushiguros, that clean, pure smell all children and puppies had at the crown of their heads, but there was also Nanami there too. Gojo inhaled again trying to follow the quickly fading smell of the man.
He should have kissed him. What was always stopping him? He had gotten so close so many times. It was a two-way street, he thought. Why hadn’t Nanami kissed him? Gojo threw the shirt at the bed in frustration. He knew why, just didn’t want to think about it.
The kitchen was filled with the voices of the two children and the tv buzzed with low noise. Gojo leaned against the doorway of the kitchen and watched.
“That is even, Megumi.”
“No way. It’s not fair! You got to have half of one earlier too!”
“You’re just mad I got to share one of Nanami-san’s cream buns with Koushi-kun.”
“That’s not true! I don’t care!”
Tsumiki continued to argue as she folded away a stool and put something into the sink. Gojo moved to the counter where she had been standing. There were three napkins and the last cream pan was split into perfect thirds on the paper plate.
Gojo placed a third on each napkin and handed one to each sibling. They stopped arguing about boys long enough to say thank you and move into the living room. Gojo stared out the kitchen window at the Tokyo city lights and ate his cream bun.
A Nanami family recipe, huh?
It was delicious.
Gojo fell asleep on the couch that night sitting upright, a Fushiguro tucked under each arm. When he woke up halfway through the night he didn’t move an inch, just accepted the inevitable neck pinch, and fell back asleep. He really didn’t want to go to his empty bed with pillows that smelled like Nanami.