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It doesn’t always pay to be the hosting school of the exchange event. Nanami wondered distantly if Kyoto was cooler today as he looked up at the boiling sun.
His baseball uniform did very little to shield him from the heat. He trudged up to the pitcher's mound. This was brutal. Gojo tapped his bat on the home plate, wiggling his hips to adjust his stance.
It got more brutal. Nanami looked away while Gojo bent over, stretching out his hips. Nanami didn’t need to be even hotter. Gojo had taken a pretty nasty dive in the previous inning. What was the point of infinity if it couldn’t protect him from himself?
“Arm getting tired?” Gojo called from his position. He bent his knees, showing he was ready.
Nanami passed the ball between his throwing hand and the glove on the other. He looked around at their peers on the field.
“If I say ‘yes’ can we go back inside?”
Gojo only laughed at that, wiggling his bat up and ready for the pitch.
They had already won the exchange event for Tokyo. They won both days but a delay with the Kyoto kids’ train back to their school now meant they were all stuck together for another day.
Gojo had suggested the game of baseball for ‘bonding’ but when Utahime also announced her love for the game it quickly devolved from bonding to competition.
But the problem was the numbers. The Kyoto kids were down a few people as a result of injuries sustained from the solo battles. Not to mention the unfairness that came with Gojo and Geto being on the same team.
Utahime and Gojo had both thrown a fit over it but it made the most sense to give Gojo to the Kyoto team.
Instead of trying to win against each other, now Utahime and Gojo were fighting for MVP.
Nanami looked around at his team. Geto guarding first base, ready to get the immediate out. Shoko on second to catch anything Nanami misses, and Haibara on third. They were pretty decent.
“Give me a good pitch! Put your bangs into it!” Gojo yelled at Nanami. Nanami scuffed the pitcher's mound with his shoe.
Fuck this and fuck him. Nanami would show him a pitch alright.
“Try not to send another ball to Mars this time, Senpai,” Nanami snipped back. If he wasn’t so riled up Nanami would almost feel bad for how much Gojo had to focus and control himself to play his favorite game.
Almost.
Yaga gave Nanami a look. He could throw when ready. Nanami signaled to Ijichi to brace himself for a brutal catch.
Techniques were permitted and Gojo was probably the only one Nanami didn’t hold back from.
He held the ball close. His technique measured the bat in Gojo’s hands. He wound up when his eyes found the 7:3.
And let the ball fly. Gojo’s form was flawless as always. The bat collided with the ball. There was a wicked cracking sound. Like a gunshot.
Nanami’s hand reacted faster than his brain. His hand shot up and caught the projectile coming at his head. It was the tip of Gojo’s bat. The three of the 7:3.
The seven part was still in Gojo’s grasp, smoldering. The ball had cut straight through the damn bat and burrowed into the wall behind Yaga’s head.
The whistles and cheers came from both teams. Nanami had barely proved himself in the team event. He shined better in the solo battles.
But seeing that look on Gojo’s face felt a lot more like victory than anything else.
“Get him again! Yeah, Nanami-kun!” Utahime called from the dugout. She was up next to bat. Gojo’s mouth twitched.
“I’m on your fucking team!”
“I don’t care!”
Yaga ruled it a foul ball and gave Gojo a new bat.
Gojo recreated his little pre-swing wiggle. Nanami enjoyed it a lot more now. When he was done Gojo looked up with a smile that was more of a determined sneer. Nanami smirked back.
No holding back. Not for Gojo.
He let the next ball go with an even faster backspin. Nanami was so focused on hearing that satisfying crack again that when he did he realized it sounded different.
Not a clean break. That meant- Oh. Oh, no.
Gojo must have covered his bat with his infinity. Fuck-
Nanami saw the flash of white then it all went black. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.
When he woke the sun was so bright it stung his eyes. He closed them and then barely cracked them open to look around.
There were a dozen heads over his. It was like those dreams where you wake from the feeling of falling but only find yourself in the next nightmare. His head ached and his ribs were screaming.
Gojo’s head leaned down close to him. He wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore.
“Nanami? Kento, are you okay?” Gojo’s voice was so soft. His eyes were so cool and so very blue. Nanami always forgets that his eyelashes are white. His lips and skin are so soft.
Nanami blinked up at Gojo.
He had the very distant thought that maybe he was going to be kissed by an angel. Maybe this is what death was really like. He would be okay with that. If angels were as pretty as Gojo then maybe heaven is worth getting into.
Nanami was having trouble figuring out if he was lying down or floating. He was stiff but also warm. Limbs heavy but mind weightless. He tried to look around. Everything but Gojo was blurry.
“Kento, hey. Look at me,” Gojo whispered. His hands cupped Nanami’s face, cradling his jaw. His hands were so soft. Nanami’s mouth moved but nothing came out. “What?”
Gojo centered Nanami’s vision with his hands and leaned even closer.
“Buh–” Nanami tried again. Gojo leaned his head down, tilting so Nanami’s lips were almost to his ear.
“What is it?”
“Beautiful,” Nanami whispered and the effort of the pronunciation made him cough and sputter.
Gojo sat up violently which exposed Nanami to the rays of the hot sun. He hissed and shut his eyes.
Not heaven then. Fucking hell. The damn baseball field in reality.
“He’s fine, sensei!” Gojo shouted over to Yaga. He turned back to Nanami briefly. “I thought you were dead for a second there.”
Nanami groaned when Gojo left his side. His arm was like cement but he managed to lift it to cover his face.
Soon other voices and faces appeared.
“He’s bleeding,” Utahime gasped.
“Fuck, that’s gonna be a gnarly bruise,” Kusakabe hissed and pointed at Nanami’s chin.
“Kento?” Haibara called and Nanami could pass out from relief. Finally a friendly voice. “You got hit pretty good. Busted your chin when you fell. We’ll get you up!”
Shoko and Haibara helped Nanami sit up. Shoko checked him for cracked ribs but he had only gotten the wind knocked out of him when he fell after the impact.
Kusakabe showed Nanami the baseball. It was cracked but not totally halved. No one knew if it was the bat or Nanami’s helmet that had done it.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Utahime whispered and offered him the dented blood-covered helmet. There was a hole in the center of the dent. “Because he hit you with the ball it’s an automatic out. You guys won the inning.”
Nanami stared at her.
He blinked and it hurt. His whole head was screaming.
“No. Funnily enough, that does not make me feel better. Thanks anyway.”
She looked embarrassed but Nanami couldn’t bring himself to feel bad. She was trying to be nice. It would be nicer if she apologized for her part in rilling up Gojo.
Speaking of–
Nanami looked for his assailant angel. He couldn’t move his head too quickly without becoming dizzy. He squinted through the bright sun.
Gojo was talking with Yaga-sensei and Naoya Zenin. Geto close behind Gojo.
“I’ll take him to the infirmary,” Naoya announced. Gojo’s sneer was palpable.
“He’s my junior. I’m taking him,” Gojo pushed back. Naoya twisted up his ugly mouth into an even uglier shape.
Nanami did not want that guy walking him.
“If he’s such a precious junior why did you try to bash his brains in with a baseball? I think Nanami-kun is safer with me and Ieirei-san.”
Gojo’s shoulders went up and Geto instantly went on alert.
“Listen here you little creep-” Gojo started to say and put out his arm like he was about to show Naoya what smeared brains really looked like but Geto stepped between them.
“Sensei, I agree with Satoru. He knows the campus and Nanami-kun would likely feel more comfortable with two familiar faces. Plus, it’s an opportunity for Satoru to observe Shoko practicing a reversed technique, right?” Geto made a compelling argument. Yaga looked relieved to simply have a reasonable voice.
Nanami was conflicted. He appreciated Geto’s diplomatic nature but he also would be absolutely okay watching Gojo destroy Naoya on his behalf.
More than all that he wanted to be out of the hot sun and off this stupid field.
Yaga sided with Geto and decided that Shoko and Gojo would take Nanami to the infirmary. Gojo was formally ejected from their informal game for using so much cursed energy and for nearly punching the Zenin brat.
Gojo squatted in front of Nanami on the ground. His head blocked out the sun for a blissful moment.
“Think you can walk, man?”
“My eyes hurt. It’s fucking bright.” Nanami nodded as he spoke. His head moved but his eyes stayed focused on Gojo’s nose. It helped with the spinning world.
Gojo frowned briefly. He pulled his glasses off his face before gently guiding them onto Nanami’s. They settled onto the bridge of his nose and made the world so much darker. It was an immediate help.
“You need these,” Nanami mumbled even as he indulged in the relief of the sunglasses.
“Nah, I’m good. Need the vitamin D anyway. You hold onto them for me. Okay?”
“Alright.”
“Stand very slowly,” Shoko advised. Gojo bent down to help Nanami. He threw one of his cement arms over Gojo’s bony shoulders.
They stood together as one. Nanami was leveraged up slightly due to their height difference. His legs were uninjured and yet, his mind still struggled with the motion of walking for the first few feet.
“I’ll come check on you, okay?” Haibara promised. “I’ll sneak snacks!”
Nanami gave a dejected thumbs-up as Gojo walked him away from the field.
Every step Nanami felt better. He slowly became more coherent and his limbs began to feel made of flesh once more.
It was both the longest and shortest walk of Nanami’s life to the infirmary building. Nanami felt more himself but his vision was still blurred on the edges and watery. He was easily dizzy and still reliant on Gojo’s support.
When they got to the infirmary it was empty. Gojo sat Nanami down on a medical cot against the far wall. Nanami was grateful to have the wall to lean against.
Gojo reached up to Nanami’s face to grab his glasses. Nanami clutched at his wrists.
“It’s not so bright in here. I promise.”
Nanami let Gojo take the glasses. He had been honest, it wasn’t so bright despite the fluorescent bulbs. He only had a moment to adjust before Shoko was waving a flashlight in his eyes.
She continued to do so as she asked questions about how Nanami was feeling.
“Okay. So. Good news or bad news?” Shoko asked and clicked off the light.
“Bad,” Nanami said.
“Good,” Gojo said at the same time. Shoko eyed them.
“The bad news is that I can’t help you. Good news is you shouldn’t need stitches and there was no technique used on your body. You have a pretty bad concussion. Your cursed energy protected you from the ball cracking your skull.”
Nanami’s eyes bugged out a little hearing the reality of how hard Gojo had hit the ball. He looked at his upperclassmen. Gojo’s face was tight and pale.
“So you’re saying… I got hit really hard. That’s it?” Nanami simplified it. Gojo needed to hear that that’s all it was. Just a hard hit.
Even if it could have bashed in his skull. It didn’t.
“Yep. I’m not a doctor, yet, but I don’t feel any soft spots on your head. The bleeding is probably from your helmet. Head wounds bleed a lot even if it’s a superficial cut.”
Nanami reached up and touched his face. The entire left side of his forehead was swollen. He could feel the drying remnants of blood coming down from his hairline. He had no idea how far down the streaks of blood went or how much was caked into his hair.
Gojo could see it though.
“I’m going to go get the doc. She’s gonna want to check you for any internal bleeding and your teeth. I’m not qualified for that yet. Satoru, clean him up?”
“Yeah- Yeah, of course.”
“My teeth?” Nanami was suddenly very aware of his mouth. Tongue rushing over all his teeth. “What’s wrong with my teeth?”
That was much more important to him than the fact that he could have hemorrhaging in his head.
Gojo started pulling out swabs and gauze from a cupboard and Shoko left them without answering Nanami’s question.
Nanami watched with anxiety curling in his stomach that felt an awful lot like nausea as Gojo laid out all his materials on the tray by Nanami’s cot. With a snap of the latex, Gojo pulled on gloves.
He leaned down with a pad doused in alcohol. One hand cupped Nanami’s jaw gently.
“Is there something wrong with my teeth?” Nanami felt like he was going a little crazy. He thought he could feel them all with his tongue. They seemed fine when he bit down.
“Do I look like a dentist? Hold still.”
“Just look! If you broke my fucking teeth I’ll kill you. Please,” Nanami half ordered, half pleaded.
Gojo’s hand went stiff. So did his whole body.
“Fine. Smile.”
Nanami did as ordered. He smiled and there was some pain in his jaw, just under his ears. Maybe it was a simple act of human nature but Gojo’s mouth curved up slightly too. Not showing teeth. It was the softest smile Nanami had seen on his senpai’s face. It dropped.
“Open.” Gojo had to repeat the order twice because Nanami failed to process it the first time. Gojo looked around inside Nanami’s mouth, carefully moving Nanami’s jaw to give him more visibility. “You look fine besides the blood.”
“There’s blood in my mouth?”
Gojo looked at him funny. His hand still on Nanami’s face.
“You can’t taste it?”
Nanami closed his mouth and felt around. He tried to taste anything. There was nothing. No familiar copper taste in his mouth or the twang of salt of a wound. He shook his head.
Gojo frowned. His hold on Nanami’s face was as rigid as it was soft and gentle. Gojo silently went about cleaning up Nanami.
He started with the busted chin. It must have been scraped up from the gravel and grit of the pitcher’s mound from how it stung when Gojo applied the antiseptic.
Gojo’s hands moved quickly and effectively but Nanami could tell that he was tense.
“Are you okay?” Nanami asked it on instinct. He was the one with blood running down from his hair and a fairly severe concussion and yet was asking after Gojo. The scoffed laugh Gojo gave indicated he recognized the irony.
“Looking at your ugly mug up this close is absolute agony for me.”
In his warped state, Nanami almost wanted to chuckle at the sarcasm. But how could he laugh when Gojo wasn’t even smiling?
Gojo pressed a small gauze pad to Nanami’s chin and secured it with wound tape. He went about sanitizing the small scrapes on Nanami’s jaw and cheeks.
It was hard to imagine how he could have been so banged up over a silly baseball but when he thought over Shoko’s hypothesis it made a bit more sense. He had been protected by his cursed energy until the impact knocked him unconscious. Everything else was the same as if a normal person had fallen hard.
Pink lips curled inward in concentration as Gojo looked over Nanami’s skin for anything he missed. They had never been so close. Nanami wished he wasn’t half-delirious for this. It felt… special.
“You’re being nice to me,” Nanami said. Gojo’s eyes shifted behind his glasses, meeting Nanami’s. His pupils were blown wide, one more than the other, but both still showed Nanami’s brown irises past the black.
“Is that a crime?”
“It’s weird.”
“I called you ugly, like, ten seconds ago,” Gojo reminded him. Nanami huffed. It moved Gojo’s bangs slightly. His hair was so light and soft looking, maybe that’s why Nanami got him confused with the divine, thought he was made of light and clouds.
He saved Nanami’s scalp for last. Nanami almost wished he had done that part first. That hurt more than his chin or jaw. Every small movement made Nanami hiss with pain. It was tender and buried under his blood-crusted hair so Gojo had to dig a bit with his fingers.
Nanami grunted when Gojo’s knuckle brushed the raised bump on Nanami’s head. Gojo tensed but kept working. He tried to go faster and get it over with but that only caused more pain.
“Shit! Ow!” Nanami barked out his frustration. Clenching his muscles made his body ache even more. “Pause! Stop!”
“I’m sorry! Okay? I’m fucking sorry!” Gojo’s voice was tittering on shrill as he yanked his bloodied fingers away from Nanami’s head. Nanami reached up and snagged Gojo’s wrists. He took a deep breath. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Nanami squeezed Gojo’s wrists, rubbing circles mindlessly with his thumbs as he brought Gojo’s hands lower.
He looked up at Gojo standing above him. His tunnel vision made the fluorescent lights of the infirmary into a halo of sorts. He hadn’t thought Gojo was angelic because of his hair or clouds or something so ridiculous.
It was because he was beautiful then. Even with his glasses on now, he was very beautiful. Nanami felt heat rush the back of his neck and he couldn’t even blame the rays of the sun.
What must he have looked like to Gojo then? If Gojo was in the position of an angel on high then how pitiful must Nanami have seemed, gazing up at him bruised and battered from a fucking baseball.
“It’s fine. Go slower,” Nanami requested. It took an extra few breaths to realize he needed to release Gojo’s wrists to allow him to keep going.
Gojo did as requested. Carefully moving Nanami’s hair away from the cut.
“It’s not as deep as I thought.”
Nanami was relieved of course. He continued to brace for any possible pain but the only sting came from the antiseptic and the pressure of the gauze.
It took a little longer but Gojo cleaned all the blood he could from Nanami’s skin. When he was finally done Nanami was almost let down there wasn’t more. His unbalanced body leaned forward to where Gojo’s touch had been once it was gone.
He leaned back and laid against the cool wall as Gojo stripped off his soiled gloves. Shoko was taking a long time but Nanami didn’t care much. His teeth were fine, he would be fine and Gojo was being so gentle with him.
The minute Shoko returned with an actual doctor Gojo would likely have to leave. Nanami didn’t want that. The world was blurry and he was unsteady in it. He liked having Gojo’s strong energy nearby.
Gojo sat down with crossed legs beside Nanami on the cot.
“I wasn’t only sorry about being rough.” The older boy’s voice was cautious. Nanami closed his eyes. He couldn’t stand the blurry vision if Gojo wasn’t the focus of clarity in the middle.
“I know. I forgive you. It was an accident.”
Gojo shook his head. The motion ran down his body and shook the cot ever so slightly. Nanami was sensitive to every little motion. It was like he could see the action in his mind without his eyes. Maybe this is how Gojo sees the world sometimes. How awful.
“No, it wasn’t. I was being stupid and I put too much into it. I should have known you couldn’t take it.”
“The way you say that makes it sound like it’s fault for being weaker than you.”
“No- That’s not- fuck,” Gojo grumbled and pinched his nose. “No one could have- honestly I was impressed that you threw it like that. I got too into it and I lost control and-”
Nanami balled up his fists in his lap.
“Gojo-senpai, there is a trash can over there specifically labeled for discarded limbs. There are a lot worse things than a concussion. If anyone has the right to blame you, it’s me and I don’t. You’re making me feel like a cripple.”
The silence was heavy but not torturous. Nanami almost liked it, it allowed for the hum in his injured skull to turn down to a low buzz but he also missed the sound of Gojo’s voice, the way he moved around Nanami. The sound of his breathing near his ear.
He missed having Gojo hovering above him in the light.
“Does it hurt bad?”
“Not bad.” Nanami wasn’t lying. It did hurt. But not bad. He’s certainly had much worse because of cursed techniques by curse users. Hell, he’s had worse from curses. “I’m more worried about when my taste will come back.”
There was a small silence before the cot began to shake. Nanami cracked his eyes open. Gojo was covering his mouth and beginning to sputter. “Are you laughing at me?”
“I’m sorry!” Gojo exploded with laughter. It jostled the cot and Gojo shuffled closer to the wall beside Nanami to accommodate. He was practically laughing in Nanami’s injured face.
“What? What’s funny about that?”
“No- it’s not that! It’s just-” Gojo couldn’t seem to catch a breath. “You’re worried about your taste buds and teeth and dude, the way you fell! You looked like a fucking ragdoll!”
Gojo’s giggles, no matter how ludicrous, were becoming infectious and Nanami’s jaw ached with the desire to smile too. Gojo fell to the side, knocking into Nanami. They leaned together on the cot.
“Ragdoll?”
“Your head snapped to the side and you just dropped.” Gojo clapped his hands once to demonstrate how sudden Nanami’s fall was.
“Shit. You busted the helmet,” Nanami said around his own trickle of laughter. Gojo put his head down on Nanami’s shoulder. Nanami was hot all over again.
“At least it wasn’t your head! I thought you were dead!”
Nanami stopped laughing. Gojo stopped not long after. He didn’t move from Nanami’s shoulder. It was almost as if he needed it. Nanami didn’t need it but he wanted it.
He wanted it because it made his heart race. Made his fingers tingle and his head hurt less. He wanted that after hearing Gojo say that again.
“You were being serious when you said that?” Nanami waited for Gojo to respond.
“Yeah. It was only for a second. When you dropped so suddenly… everything stopped for a second. I thought I had-” Gojo didn’t finish. He didn’t have to. Nanami understood now why Gojo was so desperate to apologize.
Nanami’s heart was pounding from Gojo’s touch. He tried to imagine what it would be like if it stopped. Even for an instant.
He tried to imagine if the roles had been reversed. If he had thought he hurt Gojo like that. His heart would have halted in fear. Of course, that was impossible. This would have never happened to Gojo and that is what Nanami comforts his mind with.
“It’s okay. I also thought I was dead.”
Gojo picked his head up to look at Nanami. His covered eyes searched for a trace of falsehood in Nanami’s face and found none.
“You’re messing with me. Don’t be a dick.” Gojo shoved himself away but Nanami put his hand out. He kept Gojo close.
“I’m serious. I’m so serious. I so seriously thought I was dead that I thought you were an angel,” Nanami admitted.
They stared at each other. Nanami wasn’t sure at all what Gojo’s reaction would be but it only seemed fair. Gojo had shared his fear, the guilt of thinking his silly mistake had killed Nanami. Nanami could share this to reassure him.
Gojo began to laugh again and Nanami joined in with a few chuckles of his own. Maybe it was the concussion that made him nearly confess all his feelings with that statement. He was grateful Gojo took it in the most innocent of ways.
“An angel? I hit you so hard!” They laughed until Nanami felt dizzy sitting still. When they settled down they were still leaning close together.
“You didn’t hit me. You hit a ball. Damn good hit.” Nanami hoped the distinction would quell Gojo’s guilt. He couldn’t control the trajectory of the ball, only how hard he hit it. Nanami would forgive him regardless.
“Yeah, if your big blonde head hadn’t been in the way I could have won the inning,” Gojo snickered and it put Nanami at ease. This felt normal, it felt like them.
Gojo being gentle had been a luxury Nanami was happy to indulge in. Nanami was more happy to feel normal with Gojo even as his head still felt all out of order.
While the others played outside they tucked up into each other. The closer Gojo got the more Nanami was almost thankful for that baseball. He reached up and cradled Nanami’s face once more, thumb brushing dangerously close to his bandaged chin.
“It shouldn’t scar. Your jawline is all you got going for you,” Gojo lied and it’s so obvious that Nanami responded with a fake laugh, hardy-har and all.
“Maybe I forgave you too quickly.” The way Gojo smiled at him and touched him makes Nanami believe Gojo thought the opposite about his looks.
“I’m glad you didn’t die in such a crappy way with a baseball.” Gojo said it with a lighter voice but Nanami heard the heavier version minced in those words: ‘I’m happy you’re alive. I’m happy I didn’t hurt you.’
It was about a week before all the blurred edges left Nanami’s vision and another before his chin looked like his own again. Gojo bought him that first sandwich when his taste buds became functional again.
They kept their talk in the infirmary between themselves. Leaving it to playful teases and inside jokes about angels and ragdolls.
If Gojo heard Nanami call him beautiful they didn’t talk about it. And if they didn’t separate until Shoko returned then they didn’t talk about that either.