Chapter Text
Bullshit. That’s all that ever came out of the boss’ mouth. At least that’s what Nanami Kento began to believe at the end of every workday once the mornings' hopeful naivety began to wear away.
Nanami stared at the small grey scuff that marked the corner of his computer screen, it had been there since he had begun this position nine months ago. Behind him, Higuchi Masayoshi raved about company expectations, the previous year’s AOV, and the lack of clientele growth this month.
He glanced down at his watch, the second hand slowly ticked clockwise. Approximately one hour and seven minutes until clock off – he could make it.
“Nanami-san!” A voice erupted from behind him, glancing around the office he realised he had lost track of Higuchi and the man had snuck over. “Working hard, I see?”
“Just wrapping things up,” Nanami glanced over his shoulder to glance at the stout man.
“Diligent as ever,” he hummed, bracing a hand on the desk to leer over him. “Are you sure you want to take this weekend off? Never too late to back out!”
“Thank you for the offer, Higuchi-sama. But I’ve already made plans.” Indeed, Nanami had incredibly important plans that involved exploring the cafes and restaurants of Shimokitazawa after a much-needed sleep in.
Higuchi responded with a disappointed click of his tongue and quickly moved on to the next hapless employee.
In the two years since leaving the world of jujutsu and curses behind, Nanami had adapted to the money-hungry world of sales and financing. It wasn’t all that different from jujutsu and curses. Instead, the curses were silver-tongued employers who valued the company above all, and his weapon was. . . well, he was still trying to perfect it. If he hadn’t been so desperate for a break, then he would have conceded as he did seven months ago when he attempted to take time off to see his family for Christmas.
But not this time, Nanami Kento would get two days of freedom – well two and a half if he counted his early clock off. He had guaranteed an earlier finishing time than his colleagues to avoid being roped into after-work drinks or endless karaoke.
If someone had told him two years ago how social the life of a salaryman would be, he would have picked another, much more remote career.
It wasn’t long before six o’clock rolled around, Nanami swiftly collected his belongings and packed them into his second-hand briefcase. His long legs carried him across the office and towards the elevator, he kept his gaze up high to avoid the curious looks from his coworkers.
The one curious onlooker that he couldn’t avoid was Yasui Hana, who made a swift beeline for the elevator, and Nanami wasn’t so miserable as to not stop the elevator doors from closing.
“Ah, Nanami-san, thank you!” Yasui smiled, clutching a stack of papers to her pale pink blouse.
Nanami responded with a simple nod of the head, pressing the ground floor button and Yasui made no move to press any others.
Yasui had started little more than a year ago and she was already rising in position quicker than most, it had nothing to do with her sales but instead of keen ability to sleep her way to the top.
Nanami couldn’t help but respect her for it, sleeping with these money-hungry bastards was probably just as life-sucking as every other role in this company. And it isn’t as if Yasui won’t deserve whatever role she ended with. Nanami once discovered over several after-work drinks that she has an incredible mind for mathematics – she didn’t even own a calculator.
“Rumour has it that you’ve managed to get the weekend off,” Yasui peered at Nanami through her thick fake lashes.
“Yes, I can’t remember the last time I had a weekend to myself.” He could recall it. It was over two years ago when he still attended Tokyo Jujutsu Tech – he reminisced about it often.
“Any plans?”
The elevator doors opened on level 4 and a pair of jittery temps huddled in, turning their backs to them.
“Sleeping in, takeaway food, and relaxing mostly.” Nanami could feel his social battery running out, wistfully he stared at the small digital screen marking their descent in bright red digits.
Yasui replied with only a quiet, pleased hum.
Finally, they reached the ground floor and the silver mirrored doors slid open, the loud clattering noise that was reception flooded his senses.
“Well spare a thought for your poor colleagues back in the office.” Yasui smiled sweetly, matching his pace as her heels click on the stone tiles.
“My idea was to not think of work at all,” Nanami admitted. His gaze swept over Yasui with an unsure glance as she startled him with a laugh.
“Oh, I can’t blame you for that!” she laughed. “Say, Nanami-san . . .”
The two of them slowed to a stop beside reception. Nanami only stopped out of politeness, regret pooled in his stomach as he looked down at Yasui as she shyly brushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
“Maybe we could meet up for coffee sometime? Just the two of us?” Yasui spoke so quietly that Nanami barely caught what she said.
He went pale at the realisation, his mind falling back to their previous interactions and wondered where he had misled her. Hitting on him wouldn’t advance her career and she would have to know that. So what? Surely, she wasn’t genuinely interested in him.
Nanami opened his mouth to reply, but the words caught in his throat as he caught a glimpse of white hair in the bustling crowd outside. It was gone in a blur between the waves of grey and black suits. Nanami was left feeling lightheaded. He was aware of the pressure he felt from his role, yet to hallucinate him? That’s too far.
“Oh, oh.” Yasui gasped.
Another drop of dread filled his stomach as he brought his focus back to the petite woman in front of him. Yasui's eyes practically glittered as she hid a smile beneath her glossy manicured nails.
“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.” Yasui quickly bowed, papers clutched to her chest as she dipped down. “A man such as yourself is always too good to be true, I’m sorry if I’ve ruined things between us.”
Nanami remained still as he assessed the situation. Yasui had swiftly concluded that Nanami wasn’t interested in anything more than a workplace friendship – how had she done that so quickly? And what conclusion had she made up? Was this to avoid embarrassment before he could even reject her?
“N-nothing has been ruined,” Nanami flushed slightly. His eyes flickered to the foyer windows again, there was no sign of white hair.
“I hope you have a good weekend, and don’t worry, your secret is safe with me!” Yasui spoke in a hushed voice. Before Nanami could say anything, he received a deliberate wink from the woman before she went and spoke with a receptionist.
Finally, the gears in Nanami’s mind began to turn and he realised that Yasui believed that he rejected her – or attempted to – because she thought he was gay. And although she wasn’t entirely wrong, he hoped she would keep this to herself as he didn’t want to return on Monday with everyone gossiping about his sexuality.
Pushing aside the strange interaction, Nanami uprooted himself, turned and left, leaving everything behind even if it was just for two days. Once he made it through the spinning door, away from the air-conditioned comfort and into the warm evening air, he let out a sigh of relief.
His knees wobbled with a slight weariness, after countless 50-hour workweeks he finally had two days all to himself. The opportunities felt endless! There was a pile of books on his bedside that he finally had the chance to read, a list of eateries to visit and a bed calling his name.
The young salaryman fetched his phone from his pocket, switched the setting to ‘do not disturb’ before returning it to his pocket. As he turned away from the skyrise building, he thought of what he would do once he got home. The first thing he would do he decided, was order take-out from his favourite restaurant and whilst that arrived, he would take a hot shower, change into his most comfortable pyjamas, and once he finally had his dinner he would settle into bed with a book.
Abruptly, a rush of adrenaline coursed through Nanami, and his feet firmly planted themselves on the concrete beneath his leather shoes. An ominous, dangerous presence had made itself known in Nanami’s vicinity and it was akin to the energy he felt in his youth when he attended Jujutsu Tech. Businessmen and women quickly diverted around him, their brains so fried that they barely noticed him standing in the middle of the walkway.
For a split second, he contemplated what would happen next – it had been so long since he fought that he wonders if he could still do it. As he adjusted to the presence, the realisation of its origin clicked, and he felt eyes watching him.
Nanami squeezed his tired eyes shut, hoping – no, praying – that he had collapsed outside his workplace, that this ‘presence’ was nothing more than a stress-induced fever dream.
“Well look at you, all grown up!” The voice cut through the bustle of the street, over the car motors and the overall noise of nightlife that was Tokyo.
Nanami could no longer deny it. He looked over his shoulder and saw him standing a few metres away with a brilliant white grin plastered across his face.
“Ah, even your hairstyle has changed!” Gojou Satoru separated the distance between them with a couple of broad strides, hands hidden in the pockets of his dark unbuttoned Jujutsu Tech coat.
“Gojou-san,” Nanami sighed and turned to face the older man. “What are you doing here?”
“Me? Oh, just a stroll through the neighbourhood.” It wasn’t often that Nanami met another man taller than himself, and he found himself reminded of this as Gojou practically loomed over him.
The closeness wasn’t appropriate for the middle of summer, Nanami felt himself sweat more from the heat that radiated off the other man.
“A stroll through Tokyo’s business district?” Nanami questioned.
“Sure.” Gojou shrugged, a smile persistently played across his lips.
Nanami stubbornly glared at the black lens of Gojou’s sunglasses, and in turn, his reflection stared back at him.
“Outside my place of employment?” Nanami tested, his brows narrowed.
“A coincidence!” he laughed.
Before Nanami could process it, Gojou threw an arm around his shoulders and spun them around. Together, the two men faced the direction that Nanami was originally going.
“How about we catch up over dinner? I know this great ramen place.”
Nanami knew that it wasn’t a question, it never was with Gojou. Logically, he knew that it was a bad idea – with Gojou around there was an unlimited number of things that could go wrong. But something tugged at Nanami’s stoney resolve, even as teenagers he had always been able to bully Nanami into stupid plans.
“Fine.” Nanami sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t expect me to stay out late though, I have plans.”
“It’ll be over before you know it, kouhai.” Gojou laughed obnoxiously at Nanami’s flushed cheeks.
Once they moved forward a few paces, Gojou's arm retreated from his shoulders – no doubt due to the heat, Nanami believed.
Still, this did not stop Gojou from impractically gluing himself to Nanami’s side. The closeness worsened as the crowd thickened, the older man was so close that Nanami could feel the faint sensation of limitless vibrating between them. Nanami couldn’t help but wonder if Gojou thought that he was going to run off the moment he saw an opening. And although he wouldn’t, it certainly tempted him.
Going out for meals or drinks after work was nothing new to him, and on any other occasion, he would be fine with this sort of thing. It was a standard for salarymen to go out with their colleagues to drink, and quite a few of them couldn’t hold their liquor well – many nights had been spent dragging his drunken coworker’s home.
But on this occasion? No, Nanami was not fine with it. Not only should he already be on the train ride home, but he should not be going out for dinner with his ex-classmate, the infamous Gojou Satoru.
Nanami couldn’t even think of how angry he was at this development; the only thing on his mind was the smothering heat of Gojou’s arm against his. How he hadn’t tripped over himself was an incredible feat. He couldn’t help but feel the old, charred remnants of his high school crush unearth itself – he would have to work quickly to bury that far back down where it belonged.
The pair soon found themselves at one of the finer ramen restaurants in the area. It was a few blocks from his work, and he had only been there a handful of times.
Gojou hadn’t been lying when he said it was a great ramen place, that much was evident from the line of patrons decorating the front of the establishment. Many of the patrons were either salarymen such as himself or couples. He couldn’t help but feel self-conscious of how others must be perceiving them.
As they entered the line, Nanami removed his blazer and tie. He folded the grey tie neatly before he slipped it into the blazer pocket, which he then hung in the crook of his elbow.
Feeling Gojou’s gaze, Nanami spared a glance at the other man but found him looking away – apparently, he had found something fascinating about the traffic to the left of them.
He took a moment to observe the man, it had only been a few years since he last saw him and he hadn’t changed too much. What childish roundness that was left of his face as a teenager, he had long grown out of. His mouth was ticked downward in a small, contemplative frown. Nanami wondered if the near opaque lens hid more than just vibrant blue eyes.
“So, Nanami-san, how was work?” Gojou broke the long-built silence between them, leaning in closer to be heard over the voices of other patrons.
“It was fine,” Nanami lifted his hand to undo his collar button. “And yours?”
“Productive,” he hummed.
The two soon fell back into silence, neither of them attempting to progress the conversation. Nanami felt that it was far too difficult, after all, what does someone say after being apart from each other for two years? They lived such different lives now – it was almost as if Nanami was standing next to an absolute stranger.
But Gojou wasn’t a stranger, he proved that much with how he pressed himself against Nanami with a gravitational force that Nanami didn’t know he possessed. With each step forward, Gojou moved in tandem with his ex-kouhai, as if he had never heard of the concept of personal space.
Nanami couldn’t ignore the feeling of Gojou’s sharp hipbone pressed into his waist, even in such a cramped environment he couldn’t help but need this was less than appropriate.
He breathed a sigh of relief that they weren’t speaking, as he was too tired to truly comprehend how close their faces were. And he counted himself lucky that he couldn’t smell Gojou cologne over the strong aroma escaping the restaurant to which he stood closest too, it wasn’t something he needed to be ingrained into his brain.
The less interaction with Gojou, the better – he only had to survive one hour, a maximum of two, and then he’ll be back at his apartment enjoying his time off work.
“So, what have you been up to all this time, Nanami-san?” Gojou asked as he shed his coat and hung it from the back of the chair, situating himself across from Nanami at the small table they had been seated at. It was a Friday night and Nanami had never seen the establishment so busy; the patrons were packed in like sardines.
“Work,” Nanami answered bluntly. His fingers skimmed the printed words on the laminated menu at their table.
“Just work? No hobbies? No girlfriend?” Gojou tapped his fingers on the edge menu with no rhythm. Between the pair they had to share one menu, so Nanami was quickly trying to find what he wanted so that Gojou might stop leaning over half the table to read upside down.
“No time,” Nanami shook his head. “I work anywhere from fifty, to sometimes seventy, hours a week, of course depending on the time of year and upcoming deadlines.”
“Eh?” Gojou cried loudly as he slapped the small table, the wood shuddered under his palms. “You’re working seventy-hour weeks?
“Not always.” Nanami defended weakly, rubbing the grit from the corner of his eyes. He looked around the maze of tables for a waiter, attempting to flag someone down with tired, begging eyes.
He turned back to see Gojou mumbling to himself, whilst he counted his fingers, one digit at a time.
“What are you doing?” He sighed, turning the laminated menu around and pushing it towards the bizarre man.
“Calculating how much time you dedicate yourself to a job that’s clearly sucking the life out of you.”
Nanami jolted, sucking the life out of him? He would rather that than a curse literally sucking the life out of him.
“My job is fine actually –,” Nanami snapped hotly. Interrupted not by Gojou, but by a waitress who finally found the time to attend to them.
“Thank you for waiting, gentlemen,” the waitress smiled through the gleam of sweat across her face. “How may I help you this evening?”
The two men silenced their bickering, taking their turns to order their meals and behave like two responsible adults. The waitress noted every word diligently, before taking the menu and quickly disappeared back into the chaos.
“I don’t recall it being so busy,” Gojou pulled the cuffs of his shirt up his forearms. “Or this hot.”
Nanami doesn’t reply, instead settling with a sharpened glare at the older man – pointedly ignoring his now exposed forearms. Had he always been so muscular? He pushed away the thoughts swirling in his mind.
Gojou sighed dramatically, throwing himself back in his chair and fiddled with his black shades.
“Look Nanami-san, I’m not saying it in an attempt to win you back over to Jujutsu,” Gojou confessed. “I’m just expressing my concern because you look like shit.”
Honest as ever, Nanami remarked internally.
Gojou Satoru, the strongest sorcerer and clearly the best person to ever walk the earth – the ‘honoured one’. He, of course, had no quarrels in pointing out the flaws of others under the guise of concern.
Nanami remained silent, his only response being a deep sigh. He couldn’t deny that he ‘looked like shit’. He had never felt this exhausted in his life. Most days it felt like he was running an endless marathon, with no finish sign in sight. It was part of growing up, he rationed.
“Okay, okay.” Gojou bumped his ankle into his, a warm fleeting touch. “Clearly you don’t want to discuss work, so I’ll drop it.”
Gojou dipped his head apologetically, his radiant blue eyes looking over his sunglasses at Nanami.
“How about I tell you about some of the stuff you’ve missed these last few years?”
“Go on,” Nanami urged and was greeted with a wide smile.
“Well, Ieiri-san is a doctor now!” He leaned back on the table, resting one elbow on the table as he leant forward. “She cheated her way through and obtained her doctor's license in two years.”
Nanami couldn’t suppress a smile, proud of Shoko for cheating the system.
Before he could reply, the waitress from earlier flew past, depositing their food and drinks before disappearing again.
Gojou raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed with her efficiency.
“Stop eyeing the waitress,” Nanami jabbed. He doesn’t pay much mind to Gojou’s response as he zeroed in on his meal, greedily taking in the sight of his steaming bowl of nagasaki champon.
The salaryman had been so full of nerves that he had realised how hungry he was. He grabbed his chopsticks and quickly dug into his meal, Gojou followed suit.
Absentmindedly, he thought of his cosy apartment and a nice hot shower. He did get distracted though, as one tended to when in the presence of Gojou. He watched as the older man took quick anxious sips of his beer, rendering it empty within a few minutes.
It was an unexpected realisation that Gojou was nervous, considering that he was usually far too charismatic and confident for that sort of thing. Yet here he was, eating all too quickly and digging fingernails into the wood grain.
Gojou hailed over a different waiter, signalling them with his empty beer bottle, and within moments he had a fresh bottle that he drank in a similar fashion to the first one. Nanami blearily recalled the few occasions that alcohol had been snuck onto campus many years ago, and how Gojou was such a lightweight each and every time. Surely, he had built up a tolerance in those years. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be drinking so quickly.
“How are the Fushiguros?” Nanami asked.
He also had a beer but was only a few sips in. He hoped to ease some of Gojou’s nerves with a familiar topic, although he recalled his worry for the two children whom Gojou took guardianship over at the young age of nineteen. Nanami’s stomach dropped, and the sudden worry that there would only be bad news gnawed at him.
“Oh, they’re going pretty well actually.” Gojou brightened at the mention of the children. Relief flooded Nanami, and he resumed eating as the other man continued. “I think they’ve put me in the strange uncle category, Megumi-chan always hackles up when I get too close,” Gojou laughed. His usually pale cheeks began to take on a pink hue.
Relief flooded Nanami as he realised that it was the best question that he could have asked. Gojou talked for the next ten minutes about the siblings – unmistakably proud of how talented they both were. During this long tirade, which doesn’t involve much of Nanami’s input, not that he minded, Gojou ordered another beer for himself.
The yellowing light globes above them had cast a warm hue over the man. His usual cool features were now cast with warmth, and it made him appear more human – more down to earth. For a moment, Nanami allowed himself to believe that they were two normal people, ex-classmates who were catching up over ramen.
“Yeah so, Megumi-chan seems to be getting in this habit of bullying bullies.” Gojou’s movements were looser, he threw a hand up in the air and nearly hit another patron, not that either of them noticed. “I love his sense of justice, I do, but gods, I am getting so sick of meeting with the school principal every time he sends one to the infirmary – y’know?”
Nanami nodded along, even if Nanami didn’t know. He had never been to a school meeting of any sort, even when he was a pupil – aside from his original enrolment. Watching Gojou speak animatedly about the things he loved was quickly becoming one of Nanami’s favourite things. Something he would rather die than admit.
It’s not like anything he felt right now would matter soon, he knew this dinner would soon come to an end and they would part ways once more. For now, though, he can enjoy it, relish in it even, it was his two-day holiday after all.
There was an abrupt bump against his ankle once more, and he barely jolted from the connection, expecting it to have been Gojou accidentally kicking him as he got caught up with his current story and yet, the presence remained. Nanami experimentally moved his own foot, a test to see if Gojou had mistaken his ankle of the table leg and Gojou didn’t indicate that he noticed anything – continuing to throw his hands around as he described the dramas of being a PTA member.
So Nanami settled his foot down again and allowed the heavy presence to remain there. It wasn’t as if they were playing footsies under the table, he reasoned. A grounding touch between two men was hardly strange enough to retract his foot after all.
Nanami realised too late that Gojou was just as much of a lightweight as he was in high school. At some point, his over-exhausted brain had lost focus and the next thing he knew, there were four empty glasses of beer on the table. He had only noticed this when Gojou had lulled into a strange quiet stage of his drunkenness – lethargically pushing the remaining noodles around the porcelain bowl with his chopsticks.
“I think it’s time we called it a night,” Nanami decided once the waitress brought the check over. He reached over to grab it, only to be beaten with surprising speed as Gojou slapped a dozen or so bills onto the check book before returning it to the waitress with a bright smile.
Nanami sighed deeply, grabbing his briefcase from the floor as he stood up.
Gojou quickly followed his lead, a supportive hand braced on the back of his chair as he swayed slightly.
They weaved between the patrons towards the exit, narrowly missing something spilt on the ground and the suspiciously sticky hands of a curious toddler. Desperation clawed at his throat as he rushed to leave the stifling room, leaving the unsteady Gojou behind.
Nanami was surprised as he was met with the cool evening air. He cast a glance back at the restaurant and realised all the days heat was caged and circulating the inside between the hot food and sweltering patrons and staff. Gojou sauntered out the restaurant door without care, oblivious so Nanami’s momentary angst.
Shinagawa’s streets were lit with the multitudes of light pouring from surrounding buildings. Cars trickling past added to the display of light, their glossy painted exteriors acted as a mirror. Strangers trickled past, carrying the salty Tokyo Bay air along with them.
The pair stood in the middle of the boardwalk, observing their surroundings, and relishing in the chill air. Nanami wondered who would speak first, to break the silence and say their goodbye’s. How long would it be before they saw each other again, Nanami shouldn’t care about it . . . but his stomach twisted tightly at the thought that they may never see each other again.
His anxious train of thought was cut off by a firm hand being slammed against Nanami’s chest.
“Let me walk you home,” Gojou shook his head. “And don’t try to fight it, I would never treat my kouhai with such disrespect.” He then politely patted Nanami’s chest a few times before strutting off with misplaced feet in the direction of Ōimachi Station.
It took a moment for Nanami to gather himself – that was a hard slap to the chest from the strongest sorcerer alive, who also happened to be an absolute lightweight when drunk. Nanami found himself thankful that a hole was just blasted through his ribcage.
“Come on, Na-na-min!”