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Nanami has decided that in all the time he’s known you, he’s been an idiot. It’s the only time in his life where he’s ever denied the logical solution to the problem and let his fear take the lead. He’s usually able to see the facts for what they are, or at least work through the confusion before coming to the best decision. It’s what he teaches to Itadori during training. “Your heart is not a weakness, but there is a time and place to use it. It’s your job to decide when and how.”
The heart can just as easily lead someone astray as it can lead them to what is meant to be. Right now, in Nanami’s case, it’s a bit more complicated than that.
He’s standing on a balcony looking out at the still night, trees standing tall against the starry sky while the wind whispers between the leaves. He holds a whiskey in his hand and sets it on the railing. The slight breeze is helping him cool his cheeks as he unbuttons the sleeves of his shirt and begins to roll them up to his elbows. He feels warm, a mix of the alcohol and the thoughts racing in his mind.
It’s unlike Nanami to feel this way, but when it comes to you, he’s learned to expect things that surprise him. Like right now. The image of you dancing your heart out with most of the Jujutsu staff, eyes bright and sparkling, and your face the most relaxed and joyful he’s ever seen it is replaying along with his running thoughts. Thoughts that are his heart and mind at war with each other.
Nanami sighs after finishing rolling up his sleeves and reaches for his whiskey, taking a sip.
Ichiji’s party had somehow gotten out of hand, and he can still hear the bass bumping even though he’s outside. Drinks flowing, conversations growing increasingly loud and slightly unhinged, and laughs that were unable to stop were the recipe for a night never to be forgotten for years. Someone’s idea to do karaoke (Gojo’s) had somehow turned into a dance competition and then just plain dancing, everyone letting go and taking advantage of the night.
And then there was you. The very thing that had Nanami at war with himself, the very person that made the logic he usually relied on impossible to see. Everything had become so convoluted, Nanami almost couldn’t remember what the logic was.
Maybe that was just the alcohol. Or the alcohol enhancing the fear that kept him in place. All Nanami knew was that he could not get the image of you dancing out of his head. Your wild hair, pure smile, bright, slurred laughs.
Oh. He remembers. The logic is he loves you. The fear is what keeps him from doing anything about it.
“You’re an idiot,” Shoko had said to him one time about the whole thing. At the time, he was annoyed at such a comment. Now, as Nanami stands looking out into the night with his cheeks flushed with the thought of you, he decides she’s right. He’s denying the logical thing, which is to just tell you that he loves you because he has a feeling you do too. You’ve brushed past him with a knowing smile too many times for him not to notice, let your hand linger on his with intention. You’ve left him reeling at the sound of your laugh and the spark of your glances.
He’s never wanted anything more. All those intentional touches and glances are what he longs for, but something stops him every single time he even thinks about jumping in. It’s like he has his feet over the edge, his heart racing with the thought of this is it before he looks too long and pulls himself back.
Is he afraid of vulnerability? Is he afraid you won’t feel the same? Is he afraid that once he jumps, a part of him knows there will be no turning back?
He’s an idiot because he’s afraid. And he’d be an idiot to let someone like you go.
Nanami looks down at the whiskey glass in his hand before swiftly bringing it up and throwing the rest of it back. As the burn lingers in his throat, he quickly turns around to leave the balcony, mind set on walking right past the main room where the music still bumps loudly. He’s going straight to his room and taking a cold shower and going to bed—
Something runs quite hard into his chest, taking the breath out of him slightly before he looks down. A burst of giggles bubbles against his shirt, and he’s met with your glimmering eyes.
“Oh my god,” you continue to giggle through your slurred words. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be there—“
It’s then Nanami realizes that you’re using his arms to keep yourself from falling over. You’re smiling and chuckling to yourself as you try to stay on your feet. Your hands are warm on his biceps, so warm that they burn. His skin erupts in tingling all over.
“—and so I came to look for you because I didn’t wanna play the game without you,” your voice brings him back to what you’re actually saying. You came looking for him.
You’re just looking up at him now with the biggest smile full of warmth, and he’s feeling dizzy while the burn of whiskey is still lingering in his throat. He wants to move his hand to your waist.
Your smile fades slightly, and you tilt your head. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Now he’s made you worry, and he needs to find the words to say before it causes problems. His mouth parts, but nothing comes out. He takes you in, breathless. Hair messy from all the dancing, the skin on your cheekbones sparkling with sweat, eyes glittering but—
—but your eyes are on his lips.
Standing in the doorway, there’s never been more tension between you two. Your hands around his arms, bodies breaths away. You’re both just standing at the edge, toes curled over and wondering if it’s time to make the jump.
Is this it?
But then your hands start to slip from his biceps and you’re falling sideways with a squeal. Nanami is quick to catch you even before you can catch yourself, hands steadying you easily as they find your waist. Your hands fist his shirt sleeves, but now your chests are just touching, your faces are close, and he’s touching your waist.
For someone reason, now Nanami is able to find his words. “You’re drunk.”
“Yeah,” you answer simply, and he can see in your face it’s all hitting you now.
“We need to get you some water,” he says. “Come on.”
Nanami is then pulling you into his side, keeping you steady as he begins to take you to the room where everyone else is. You wrap your arm around his back as he wraps his around your waist. Your head is hung but then falls to rest against his shoulder. He can tell you’re tired and hitting a wall because this always happens when you drink.
“Nanami,” you say quietly.
“Yes,” he answers.
You sigh then, resting your head fully against him as he helps you walk. “I don’t feel good.”
He hums, understanding. “We’ll get you some water, and then you can go to bed.”
An uneasy whine then falls from your lips. “No, I mean—“
Nanami then understands quickly what’s about to happen. He acts fast, grabbing you and thanking the stars that the bathroom is nearby. Nanami pushes the door open with his hip, you fall in over the toilet, and the sound of sickness fills the air.
He kneels beside you, pushes your hair back, and gathers it in one hand with his other rubbing your back as you empty your stomach into the toilet. It’s extremely cramped in the small bathroom, but Nanami maneuvers himself around you to properly comfort you. He should’ve kept a better eye on you throughout the night because this has happened before when you mix liquors. But at least he was here when it happened, so he’ll just carry you to bed when you’re ready.
Then, Nanami hears your sobs into the toilet, and he ducks down to try and see your eyes. He says your name, his heart alert to your sudden distress. You’re coughing and crying, and you hide your face when he tries to look.
“I’m—“ you cough again. “I’m so pathetic.”
Nanami realizes it must be your drunken state talking, so he tries to distract you. “We need to get you to bed—“
“No!” You exclaim and then cough out a sob. “I’m—I’m so pathetic. Look at me. I’m throwing up into a toilet and crying. How—how could you even—be here right now while I’m like this!”
To him, your words are ridiculous. What you’re saying, it just doesn’t make sense. To him, the question should be how couldn’t he be here with you right now?
Nanami sighs and moves to sit on his butt, knees bent as he cramps into the small space around the toilet. He lets your hair go but keeps a hand on your back. You're still facing down into the toilet and trying to hide your face, but he can see the streaks of tears running down your face. He’s ready to listen.
“I’m the worst,” you mumble, and then flush the toilet.
“You’ve got that one wrong,” he replies. “I think you mean Gojo.”
A remark like that would’ve made you laugh usually, but your face remains the same, sadness and pain and fatigue etched deep in your eyes. Now, Nanami is very worried. His heart hurts seeing you like this.
Tears continue to fall from your eyes, sweat glistens on your forehead. “I knew this was going to happen. I shouldn’t have had that last shot.”
“That’s what everyone says after they’ve gotten sick,” Nanami wipes a tear away with his finger. “But it was fun at the time.”
“But now you’re sitting in here with me when you could be having fun.”
“I am having fun.”
You look at him, a look he’s seen often directed at Gojo. It means “don’t even try that”. But he’s being serious.
Nanami moves to try and face you more head on so that you have no choice but to look at him. He says your name, and your eyes barely meet his. “I don’t think any less of you because you can’t hold your liquor.”
His finger reaches up to wipe away another tear that has fallen, and finally, you crack a smile. It makes him smile, too.
“I just—” you sniff and then wipe your eyes. “—I just feel so stupid sometimes.”
“How so?” Nanami asks, careful to give you space to vent your feelings.
You shake your head and laugh dryly. “You’re going to laugh.”
“I rarely laugh unless there’s a joke involved,” Nanami states plainly. “Or if it’s at Gojo’s expense.”
You chuckle at that, and Nanami considers that another win. “No seriously, it’s really stupid.”
“It’s not,” Nanami reassures. He doesn’t want to pressure you but is becoming very curious as to what you’re going to get at.
You smile and run your hand through your hair. “Um, it’s just I…for some reason, when we were standing in the hallway, I thought…I thought we were going to kiss.”
You look at him then, embarrassment in your eyes as you wait for his reaction. You start to laugh and shake your head. “I know, I know, it’s so stupid. I think I felt really embarrassed and then throwing up right then…it was just a lot. But it’s not like you’ve never seen me cry or anything. I’m actually feeling a lot better.”
You’re talking about it with nonchalance, like what you just said hadn’t hit him like a ton of bricks. You’re laughing it off like an old joke, and Nanami feels that the breath has been ripped from his chest.
In that moment, Nanami has a realization. He’s spent all this time wrestling over logic and matters of the heart and the fear that keeps him from jumping into this gold rush when in reality, the answer has been right in front of him the whole time.
You’ve never been afraid. Never. Not once. You’ve shown him your heart time and time again, never had any reservations about what you feel.
“Anyway,” you say, smiling like gold. “I also feel pathetic because I’ve wanted to kiss you. A lot of times. I always think about it but then I just…don’t. I don’t know why. I think because I’m always like ‘Nanami and I are best friends, why would I ruin this?’ and it doesn’t ever bother me. Because I’m happy. You make me so happy Nanami, why would I change what we have? You’re perfect, and I love you. I’m happy if you’re happy.”
How could he be so blind?
The door swings open then and it hits Nanami right in the knee. Gojo stumbles in with his glasses on upside-down and a feather boa around his neck. Shoko stumbles in right after him with two cigarettes in her mouth, both of which are lit. She’s also wearing a pair of rather ridiculous glasses that sit on her nose.
“Whoaaaaaa!” Gojo slurs and laughs. “What the hell happened in here?”
“Awwwww my baby got sick,” Shoko kneels down to gather you in her arms. “You and Ichiji both. Could never handle your liquor.”
“Yeah, unfortunately he didn’t make it to the bathroom,” Gojo runs a hand through his hair. “Thank god I didn’t have to clean it up.”
“Okay, come on,” Shoko helps you up off the floor. “Time for you to get to bed. Time for all of us, actually.”
“Wait, but I wanted to try smoking a cigarette!” Gojo whines and follows Shoko and you out of the bathroom.
“No, Satoru,” Shoko sighs. “You hate it every time. You just can’t handle it.”
“Yes I can! This time I can! I swear!”
Their talking fades down the hallway, the voices of others chattering heard from far away as well. But it’s quiet, and Nanami is still sitting on the bathroom floor with your words ringing in his ears and pushing him over the edge.
Gojo then pops his head back in. “Nanamin? What’s wrong? Are you sick too?”
Nanami looks up. He doesn’t even know what to say. He runs a hand through his hair, not caring about looking unkept or unreserved. A lot of words have been said tonight, what’s a few more if no one will really remember? “She just told me she loves me.”
Gojo is quiet for only a moment. Then, he says “Yeah. You didn’t know?”
Nanami can’t answer. He always thought maybe, sometimes thought yes. But your words had hit him so hard, left him reeling with dizziness.
Gojo sighs. “Shoko was right. You really are stupid.”
Nanami can’t even be mad at the comment because he’s still sitting with his hand in his hair trying to get a grip on what just happened. Above him, Gojo sighs and sits in front of Nanami on the bathroom floor.
“You really didn’t know?” Gojo says in a low, honest voice.
“I don’t know,” Nanami replies. “Sometimes I thought maybe but…I always talked myself out of it.”
“I don’t know how you could,” Gojo is looking at Nanami over his glasses. “She’s made it pretty obvious.”
Nanami waits for Gojo to continue, and Gojo sighs. “You’ve got to be kidding, Nanamin. She’s always sitting next to you at lunch, always making sure the coffee pot is full for you, always patching up your injuries. She’s the first person you find when you come back from a mission and she’s the last person you usually talk to before bed. How many nights have I found you two staying up talking or just sitting in silence? You’ve been so in your head about this thing that you’re missing what’s right in front of you, Nanamin.”
The words hang in the silence between them before Gojo smiles. “Just make the move, Nanamin.” And then Gojo gets up and leaves.
Nanami doesn’t know how long he sits in the bathroom. He just stares at the wall. The lights flicker above him. He hears others talking as they clean up from the night down the hall until the voices disappear, everyone making it to bed.
He starts to beat himself up. How could he let fear get in the way this whole time? Why did he keep himself from this? Why had he not realized sooner? Why is he such an idiot?
Nanami could’ve stayed there and beat himself up the rest of the night. He could’ve stayed in his head and never make the jump forever.
But Nanami makes his second decision that night.
Before he knows it, he’s briskly walking down the winding hallways to find your room with the top of his shirt unbuttoned and his hair a mess and his heart beating out of his chest. The urgency that he feels is like nothing he’s ever felt before because suddenly, he knows that he cannot spend another second without telling you how he feels.
That he loves you.
Nanami loves you so much. He loves how you speak about the things you’re passionate about, when your eyes light up with a fire. He loves how you laugh and the things that you laugh at. He loves how you can make him laugh, and he loves when he makes you laugh. He loves that you and he can stay up well into the night talking about anything and everything, and how you can sit in each other’s quiet for hours on end. He loves when you squeeze his hand when you’re excited and he loves how you find him when you need a shoulder to cry on.
Anything and everything. Nanami loves it all. He loves you. He needs to tell you.
Suddenly, he’s raising his fist to knock on your door as he’s thinking all of this, but his hand misses because the door opens.
You almost run into him again but you stop just in front of him, chests breaths apart. You’re both surprised, your mouth parting like you’re about to speak and his hand stays in the air. Nanami realizes how quiet it is in the hallway, everyone probably in their rooms and probably asleep after a long night.
He takes you in. You must have taken a shower because your hair is damp and you’re in your pajamas.
Every time it’s the same. You take the breath out of his chest whenever you look at him.
“I need to—“
“I was just—“
You laugh and duck your head, and Nanami smiles. “I need to tell you something.”
You look up, eyes bright. He thinks maybe hopeful, too. “Okay.”
There’s so much he could say. Years and years of feelings are swirling around his head, blooming in his chest. Nanami wants to make up for lost time, for all the times he never said it.
“I love you.”
But really, none of it matters. Because the look on your face is all he could have wanted.
“I love you,” Nanami says again. “I…I’m sorry I’m so late.”
The most beautiful smile shapes your lips. “You’re not late. You’re right on time.”
“I love you,” he can’t help himself. “Can I kiss you?”
But you’re already wrapping your arms around his neck, and he has his arms around your waist. Your lips find each other’s easily, and Nanami thinks that kissing you is like coming home.
Taking the leap was the best decision he’s ever made.