I have never in my life written (post-worthy) JKK, but it is my best babe Liv's birthday, so I tried to pull through. It's not the best but I tried for you. Happy (super late) Birthday, Liv! I love you and I hope this doesn't suck too bad! MWAH!

(Cross posted on ao3)

Third person pov

Every afternoon, Nobara calls her parents.

It's a ritual none of them have mentioned. Maybe it's normal enough not to need mentioning-- Yuuji has never had parents, not enough to really know. His grandfather had always been distant at best when he was alive. He's the only frame of reference Yuuji has for what family is and what it means. 

From what little he's seen from others, it may not be the best example. Yuuji had known on some level that his relationship with his grandpa had been considerably eccentric compared to other family dynamics. He just hadn't realized to what extent until the nurses at the hospital commented on it, tittering away and noting what a "good grandson" he was for pushing through the old man's brash attitude. 

That's the way his gramps had always been. For as long as Yuuji could remember, that's simply the type of relationship they had. A constant back and forth, a constant push and pull. Nothing could ever be simple, and Yuuji had been forced to sit down and consider that maybe other families didn't go through that, no matter how big or small they were.

(That maybe, Yuuji didn't know what a normal family even looked like in the first place.)

That's besides the point. Every afternoon, Nobara calls her parents. Yuuji isn't trying to listen. Nobara is just naturally loud, and sometimes she's right next to him when she makes the call, excited as she recounts the events of her day. Detail by detail, she walks through them. 

And her parents-- they care. He can hear it in the way they gasp over the phone, and in their hurried tones when they ask if she's hurt. They love her, the kind of love that has boxes of homemade sweets arriving by delivery every month, handwritten letters coming in the mail weekly, and texts arriving throughout the day.

It should be impossible to miss something you've never had, but Yuuji aches. It's not quite jealously. Yuuji doesn't have it in him to be, not towards Nobara. It's more a distant yearning, something that tugs at his spine. A constant reminder of what he never had and is never going to have.

"Do you want some?" Nobara asks, mouth half full of fudge. She shoves some towards him, hand wrapped in patterned paper. She grins at him as she offers. "I've got plenty! Just make sure you don't forget next time you owe me a favor, will you?"

Yuuji laughs and takes it, and it's good. It tastes like what home feels like, and it's easier to pretend, then, that he's somehow a part of it all. That he's not an outlier, a floating piece of a puzzle destined to never find a place anywhere but in the trash. That he'll just carry Sukuna with him to the end, and that will be that.

"You really think you'll live long enough to get all my fingers?" The curse laughs at him, sometimes, voice throaty with amusement when Yuuji gets lost in thoughts like these. Yuuji's eye twitches when he does. "Don't make me laugh. You're not near competent enough to survive all twenty without me taking over your pitiful existence-- that's if you even survive to see them all." 

It's a fair point, Yuuji guesses. He's just a kid with no real technique like his peers have. He wasn't born with any special, innate abilities aside from his physical strength. Once, that had made him special. Strong. Here, it's not much more than a simple quirk, one of low standing amongst all the other amazing powers surrounding him.

It's not that Yuuji has a low self-esteem. Really, he doesn't. He's capable and he's growing, and that's more than he can say for a lot of people. Yuuji does what he can, as best as he can, and he-- 

He does it alone. With others, but alone. 

Fushiguro had already told him and Nobara, in a tone of voice that clearly conveyed that they were not to ask him any questions about it, that Gojo-sensei had raised him. From age six to now, he's been his "guardian". That's what Fushiguro calls it, muttering it begrudgingly. 

Yuuji and Nobara can both hear the unspoken parent underlying the word. Yuuji can see it too, in the way Gojo-sensei gushes ever so slightly more over him, quicker to ruffle his hair and let down his infinity to draw him close with a boisterous arm over his shoulders. There's a closeness there. 

It's not to say that Gojo-sensei doesn't let Yuuji touch him or anything. He's accepted hugs from him and Nobara both, content to let Yuuji scoot in as close as he pleases. It's just... different. Different, because Gojo-sensei isn't his. He's Fushiguro's, and Fushiguro is his, and that's good too. 

Yuuji is happy that his friend has that. Fushiguro seems like a closed-off guy. Having someone as bright and bold as Gojo-sensei in his life is probably a good thing. Or so he likes to think so, anyway. 

He's glad for them. He's content, in some ways, to watch them. He doesn't expect anything. He certainly doesn't expect them to welcome him as surely as they do. Yuuji has always been strange, but here it feels like there's an actual place for him to exist.

They open their arms to him and Yuuji is happy for the first time in what feels like a long time now. He has people he cares about and who care about him back-- real friends. He can open up to them and rely on them, and they do the same back. Gojo-sensei teaches him, and they learn together, they count on each other, they watch each others backs.

In their own way, they are a family. Yuuji has that. He can cradle it in both hands and cherish it for however short a time he'll have it. He knows where his story ends, but he selfishly enjoys this in the meantime.

It's great. Amazing. Yuuji's days are filled with hardships, but he grins his way through them. He laughs and he gets stronger, and--

And then he dies. 

He dies, and he comes back, and he's not allowed to tell anyone. He's not allowed to see them. They can't know, and Yuuji has to stay tucked away, and his sudden lonesomeness has never once seemed more apparent than it is then. In that moment when Gojo-sensei pats him on the shoulder, tells him to make himself at home, and vanishes. 

Yuuji is alone in a too-big townhouse, so sparsely decorated and so clean it looks like hardly anyone lives here at all. All the lights are off and the TV is so big it covers an entire wall, but Yuuji can't bring himself to awe over it as he stands there in the dim living room. 

Nobara has her parents back home. Megumi has Gojo-sensei.

Where does that leave Yuuji?

~~~

With nobody at all, it turns out. 

(He forgets that that's the way it always was. He just got too comfortable to notice.)

~~~

The first impression Nanami has of the kid is that he's too young for this.

That's usually how it feels, considering first years. They're always so bright-eyed and ready to go, and it's hard to look at them and remember that he was right there in their shoes once. He thinks about his losses and his jaw clenches knowing that they will inevitably be jaded by the same brand of grief that's haunted him for the better part of his life now.

Itadori in particular is a special case. He's quick to bounce to attention, a head of fluffy pink hair and a pair of big, brown eyes that peer up at him imploringly. He's tall for his age, but shorter than Nanami is, dressed like the child he is with his bright red hood and excitement rolling off of him in waves.

This is the vessel of the King Of Curses. A fifteen year old boy who is destined to one day die, fully aware of this and yet still able to smile despite it. He'd had his heart ripped out of his chest, was separated from his friends, now stuck in a limbo nobody could know he existed within.

Nobody but Gojo, Ijichi, Ieiri and now, Nanami too. That's what Itadori's world had been narrowed down to.

"Lately I've been forced to realize how weak and useless I am." Itadori said it like a fact, resigned but particularly upset. "But I'll become strong. I have to get strong, or I won't be able to choose how I die."

Nanami paused at the words, feeling something in him unravel the slightest of bits. He turned his head ever so slightly, watching from the corner of his eye as Itadori grinned at him. It made him look more his age when he smiled, like the teenager he was supposed to be. 

It was wrong. The words and the image didn't overlap properly. Nanami's own words from before sat sour in his mouth. Useless-- the boy shouldn't need to be useful at all. He shouldn't be in this position. No child should. 

"And I'm certain I can win your respect, but you'll see that in time!" Itadori decided, resolute. He gave a salute, and Nanami let out a slow, deep breath. 

A kid. This is just a kid. A boy who's not as mad at the world as he had the right to be, standing here with spirit and zeal. He has a willingness to work and do what needs to be done. Somehow, that makes it that much worse.

Nanami doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to get to know this boy, and then have him slip between his fingers. He does not want to watch him grow and learn, does not want to be the nurturer of such. To see him blossom knowing his stem will only be cut in the end makes him regret ever coming back to this job. 

Still, he sighs anyway, hands in his pockets. Because Gojo asked this of him and, as annoying as that man is, Nanami can't say no. 

"Go sell that to the higher ups, not to me." He scoffed, more to himself than at the boy. "Because frankly, I don't give a damn."

It was a lie. It even sounded like one in his own ears. Nanami didn't care. Not about that, or the way Gojo's stare seemed to pierce him even with that stupid blindfold of his in place. 

Distance. Nanami is good at keeping a distance. He always has been. All he has to do is not get invested. If he can do that, he can make it through this. Calm, cool, professional. An arms length away or further, and not a step closer than that. 

"Right!" Itadori nods vigorously, and then he grins again. "Hey! Does this mean I get to call you Nanami-sensei now?"

Even Nanami knows, listening to Itadori jabber away question after question, that distance might be easier said than done. 

~~~~~ 

The thing about Itadori is that he talks. A lot. 

He's enthusiastic. Nanami will give him that much. He's got a set of values he follows to a T, with a hard head and good moral compass on his shoulders. He practically bounces to Nanami's car, and then he bounces in his seat the whole way there, and then he bounces up to the theater as soon as they arrive. 

Nanami would've almost called him immature if not for the way he immediately sobered up when the mention of the lost lives came up. His chirpy demeanor sunk into something more serious and attentive. He listened to every word Nanami said carefully, narrowed eyes a testament to how much thought he was truly giving this. 

He's a quick learner. He carries with him a heavy conscience. He's quick to soak up praise, and even quicker to blame himself. Worse is that he's easy to like-- at least for Nanami. 

Though perhaps a little lively for his tastes, he's a good kid. He's stubborn, he's quick to think, and he's willing to do whatever he needs to do to get things done. He's not afraid to voice his regrets out loud. He's talented, but he doesn't flaunt it like so many other sorcerers do. 

He has so many traits that Nanami values. His willingness to get angry on the behalf of others but not on behalf of himself strikes a chord in him. It reminds him too much of people long since passed. 

If Nanami is going to have him anyway, he's going to teach him as much as he can during that time. Under his tutelage, Itadori is going to be given the best possible shot Nanami could offer him. He's going to support him. 

Nanami will have to, with a case like this. 

Ieiri had done her best to reassure Itadori that the deaths of the two human beings on that rooftop weren't his fault, yet it was evident in his sudden silence and the slouch of his shoulders that Itadori was still blaming himself despite that. It was rolling off of him in waves, filling the car with something heavy.

"There was nothing either of us could have done." Nanami reminds him, careful with his words. The rain is still going strong, heavy against the windshield as he navigates back to Gojo's townhome. "Don't allow their deaths to weigh on your shoulders. They aren't your burden to carry."

Yuuji slouched down further in his seat, his expression scrunched. He hadn't said anything beyond an apology for getting Nanami's car seats wet, as if Nanami weren't just as soaked to the bone as he was. 

"I-I know. That it's not really my fault, I mean. Ieiri said... Just, I know there's nothing I could have done. I just wish there was, that's all." Yuuji fiddled with his fingers, peering down at them. "The one I was fighting was... they were crying. Their eyes were so scared. I-I think they were still in there."

Nanami tightened his grip on the steering wheel as Itadori's voice wavered, eyes on the road.  

"If so, the the kindest thing we could have done for them was give them peace. No soul deserves to be trapped in the prison of their own warped body." Nanami offered. "Remember that we are giving this our all. We'll catch the curse who did this and exorcise them, and doing that will be enough. We will save countless in our apprehending of them. Keep faith in that much."

Itadori took a deep breath, nodding. Nanami could see his hands curl into determined fists from the corner of his eye. He pretended not to notice the way he sniffled, reaching up to wipe furiously at his eyes as he did. His fingers drummed. 

It was nearly the end of the day. Nanami would be clocking out and going home soon. He'd shower and change clothes. He'd make dinner and sit down with a book for a while before going to bed. He wouldn't have to worry about this anymore-- not until tomorrow.

"Yeah." Itadori murmured, sounding small. Nanami pursed his lips. 

Distance. Nanami is supposed to keep his distance. He told himself he was going to, which is why this is a bad idea. It's something he shouldn't even consider. It entirely breaches the confines of the professionalism he's tried to establish. He is here to watch Itadori and to teach him, and that's as far as his responsibility goes. 

It just also stands that he is well aware that Gojo is currently out on a mission. Itadori went through a great ordeal for someone his age today, confronted with the morality of what it means to potentially take a life. He's upset, he's alone, and Nanami--

Nanami is about to drop him off in an empty house to stew in his own thoughts. And as much as he hates overtime, Itadori isn't a job. He's a person. He's a child. The little voice in the back of his head, the one that sounds suspiciously like Haibara sometimes, tells him that it would be cruel to leave it at this.

It's dark and getting darker thanks to the setting sun. The storm is only going to get worse. Nanami internally curses himself, knowing that the decision has already been made for him. It cements itself deeper as they approach their turn only to pass it by. 

Itadori is so distracted he doesn't even notice. Honestly, that's the icing on the cake. 

"Have you eaten anything today?" Nanami asks, startling Itadori out of whatever spiral he'd been about to fall into. He jumps slightly, blinking rapidly a few times as he turned to look at him. It took him a moment to process the sudden question. 

"Oh! Um, I guess not since breakfast." Itadori frowned, bringing a hand to his stomach. "I'm not sure I could stomach anything right now, honestly."

A reasonable deduction. Nanami nods.

"Even so, it's vital you get something in your stomach." Nanami turned towards Itadori as they slowed at a red light. Feelings of awkwardness or uncertainty were useless at a time like this, so he discarded them in favor of looking at him head on instead. "If you'd like, I have some leftover miso soup at home that will be both light and filling."

Once again, it took Itadori a moment to process. When he finally did, Nanami could immediately see him war with himself. The beginnings of a smile, quickly cut off by an uncertain furrow of the brows. He fidgeted, stuck between jumping at the idea and withholding, likely out of a sense of misplaced nicety. 

A part of Nanami almost hoped he'd say no. He wasn't sure what kind of person that made him, but he had never claimed to be a particularly good man. He wasn't sure there was truly any sorcerer that could fully abide by the widely-accepted definition of "good". If there was, it certainly wasn't him.

Itadori bit the inside of his cheek, tugging at his fingers. Ahead of them, the light turned green. Water sprayed from under their tires as they began to roll, streetlights reflecting oddly on the puddled asphalt. 

"Thanks, but I... I really wouldn't want to intrude or anything." Itadori said with such obvious reluctance that Nanami nearly wanted to scold him for it. He refrained, if only because now was far from the time or place.

"I said before that it's my responsibility to look out for you as the adult in this situation. It would keep me up to send you home hungry." Nanami said honestly. "We're already near my home. Truthfully, you'd be doing me a favor in helping me finish the soup off. I insist."

It took a moment. Itadori searched his expression, and Nanami did his best to stay as impassive as possible under the scrutiny. For as bullheaded as Itadori is, he's not an idiot. He's not blind to social cues either. If Nanami shows reluctance, he won't hesitate to ask to be brought home in order to spare him. 

They pass a few more streets. Nanami takes the long way, something entirely unlike him. It's inefficient and pointless of him to waste the gas just so Itadori can think longer, but making an exception just this once is surely fine. Life is full of suppositions and compromises. This is just another one. 

Slowly, a smile starts to stretch across Itadori's face. Something in his eyes sparks back into motion, and Nanami is somewhat floored to see that it's even brighter than whatever was there when he first met him, yet softer too. Genuine. 

"Yeah." The chirp was back in Itadori's voice, his back straightening in his seat excitedly. "Miso soup sounds great! Thanks, Nanamin!" 

The nickname is almost enough to have Nanami hitting the brakes in surprise. He refrains, throat oddly tight as Yuuji breaks out into a bout of happy humming, swaying from side to side in his seat. The bounce is back again, like he can hardly contain himself. 

Distance. Arms length. Professional. 

Kento Nanami may not be a good man, but hell if he's a bad one either. 

~~~~~~ 

A warm meal is exactly what Yuuji needs to start feeling better. That, and the company.

Nanami's apartment is small and clean, but it's more lived in than the townhouse. Yuuji chatters away as Nanami reheats the leftovers and serves them up, stopping only to sputter out an enthusiastic thank you and take intermittent sips of what has to be the best miso soup he's ever had in his entire life.

He feels a bit like he's scrambling to get as much socialization in as he possible can. Yuuji knows on some level that it's a pathetic of him. He's acting desperate, but if Nanami notices, he doesn't call him on it. He nods along to everything he says, interjecting when needed, attentive as he answers questions.

He's probably tired. He'd said that he hates overtime, but he doesn't seem particularly annoyed by Yuuji's presence or his constant stream of talking. Yuuji can feel the heaviness resting on his chest lighten more and more the longer he sits there with him, basking in the simple companionship. 

Gojo-sensei is always so busy. Yuuji isn't blaming him for that-- he has Fushiguro, and on top of that, he's the strongest sorcerer in the world. Of course he's going to be needed left and right. It's just that Yuuji has been... 

Well, he's been lonely. And now Nanamin is taking the time to talk to him and feed him, and Yuuji gets the distinct impression that maybe the man cares. It might be wishful thinking on his part, but Yuuji is too happy at the mere concept to really care if he's fooling himself.

Nanami doesn't rush him. Even when they finish their food, he doesn't interrupt Yuuji recounting his first time meeting Nobara. He doesn't brush off his ramble about Fushiguro's shikigami. He doesn't change the subject when he starts talking about his training, or starts working through the plots of the different movies he saw.

Nanami listens. He's really good at it. He doesn't bulldoze into other topics like Gojo-sensei does, or call him a nerd like Kugisaki, or give half-hearted grunts and look like he wants to die like Fushiguro.  

"Thanks for the meal and the ride home!" Yuuji beams, bouncing. "The soup was really great!" 

The rain had stopped. Yuuji doesn't remember when they got back into the car to drive home, but he hadn't felt like he'd been kicked out or anything. It all felt weirdly natural. He was sad to go, but he didn't feel near as bad as he had before. 

On the contrary, he was so happy he wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep. He hadn't expected to feel so light after what had happened today, but Nanamin had talked him through it, had addressed every single one of his concerns and dismantled them one by one. 

"It was no problem." Nanami said as Yuuji opened his door and popped out, smoothing out his hoodie as he did. "Get some rest, Itadori. We'll have a lot of work on our hands in the coming days, so be ready. Text or call me if anything comes up-- we both need to be in top shape for this."

At the reminder of the new contact in his sparsely-populated phone, Itadori only felt happier. He nodded vigorously. 

"I will!" Itadori grinned. "See you tomorrow!" 

Nanami nodded his head back. He didn't drive away until Itadori had the front door open, either. Yuuji turned to vigorously wave, ignoring the daunting feeling the dark doorway of the townhome brought. There was no reason to feel upset. Not after Nanamin had taken so much time to make sure he was okay. 

Itadori carefully took off and lined up his shoes, mind racing from the events of today. It had been hard, but Nanami was so much nicer than he seemed. And he'd trusted Itadori with his number! The only other person who'd done that aside from Megumi and Nobara was Gojo-sensei, and Itadori was only supposed to contact him in the case of emergencies.

Well. There was Ijichi too, but he wasn't exactly the most sociable, even on his best days. Yuuji was pretty sure the poor guy lived in a state of perpetual nervousness anyway. 

Skipping into the house, he bypassed the living room to make for the guest room he was using. It was uncomfortably white, so much so that it reminded him of the hospital. White walls, a white carpet, white sheets and a white comforter, white pillows, white lamps, a white bedframe. He didn't bother turning on the light as he flopped stomach-first onto the bed.

Kicking his feet, he couldn't help but grin to himself. Today had started out horribly, but Nanami was right. They were going to give this their all and catch this sicko! They wouldn't let this happen to anyone else if they could help it. And with someone as capable of Nanami guiding him, Yuuji was sure to get stronger in no time! 

"Nobara and Fushiguro are going to be so surprised when I come back." Yuuji laughed, pulling out his phone. "I bet they'll hardly recognize me in battle!" 

He didn't even have to scroll through his contacts to see them all. He stared at Nanami's name, biting the inside of his cheek. He really shouldn't bother him anymore than he has to. Like with Gojo-sensei. Emergencies only! 

...But surely thanking him one more time would be fine, right?

~~~~~~~~~ 

Yuuji isn't abusing the number. He's not. He's just also not... not abusing the number. 

Look, it's not his fault, okay? Like, maybe it is a little bit. It's just that Nanamin replies to him every single time he texts! It never matters what about. He always responds, and it's-- way too easy to get off topic and text him about other things. 

At first it's normal stuff. What time they're leaving, and where they're going, and if he should bring an umbrella. Yuuji stays polite and restrains himself from badgering him about every little thing. From flooding his text messages with every aspect of his day just because he can.

Yuuji's dense, but not so dense as to not know where the line in the sand is. Nanamin is nice to him. He's patient, he takes the time to explain things to Yuuji in simple terms, and he treats him well. He cares about him as a student, but Yuuji has to hold himself back from cresting too high over that wave, knowing that it'll eventually come crashing back down. 

This arrangement is temporary. Gojo-sensei had told him so, even with as offhanded as he'd been. Yuuji would only be in Nanami's care for as long as it took him to settle his business and arrange for Yuuji to go back to Jujutsu High. After that, any interactions he had with Nanamin would be few and far between.

Which is fine! Yuuji texts him, and it's nice to actually get a reply instead of the sparse responses Gojo-sensei gives. Real words instead of confusing strings of emojis and assorted gifs. Yuuji is content with that. 

He's content with it until Nanamin asks him out of the blue if he's had dinner on one of the days they're not set to meet, and then shows up at his door.

"Did that idiot stock anything? There's hardly anything edible in here." Nanami grunted, closing the fridge with slightly more force than necessary. Yuuji blinked as the man sighed, turning to look at him with a withering stare. "I told you to text me if anything comes up."

Yuuji could feel the self-imposed wall he'd set up start to crack. And once it broke, there'd be no fixing it. He knew that much.

"Does this count?" Yuuji blurted out stupidly, scratching the side of his head. Nanami didn't look impressed.

"You need food to survive and function at peak performance." Nanamin drawled out. "Yes, it counts. Get up. I doubt you've had a well-rounded meal all day."

Yuuji hadn't, and the wall broke as he excitedly leapt to his feet, scrambling off to go put his shoes on. They'd picked up some takeout, and Nanami hadn't minded that they ate in the car. He'd even let Yuuji fiddle with the radio, exclaiming over his favorite songs and half-dancing in his seat.

After that, it's easy to text him about everything. A cat he saw while taking a walk, or what breakfast he'd had, or what movie he was watching. Even better was that Nanami responded to all those text messages just as surely as he had the other ones, and not once did he tell him to stop.

Maybe it's because it was good manners to, or it was out of some sense of responsibility. Yuuji didn't know and he didn't hurt himself by asking. He just texts. He asks Nanami about his day, and things about sorcerers, and curses, and anything he can possibly think of. If Nanami isn't actively with him, Yuuji is usually harassing him over the phone in some way or another. 

It starts to feel a lot like maybe Yuuji has somebody. Like Nanami is becoming a real part of his life, not just peripherally like sensei or his classmates, but as a focus. Like maybe Yuuji could be his person, and maybe... maybe Nanami could be his back.

It's not that Yuuji is going to say it out loud or anything. He wouldn't put that on another person, and especially not on Nanamin. He can only imagine the wedge it would form if he knew the extent of which Yuuji was regarding him not just as a mentor, but as a-- 

Well. Yuuji now understands the unspoken "parent" that underlies Fushigoro's words anytime he's forced to bring up Gojo-sensei being his guardian. There's something daunting about confronting that reality. Yuuji hadn't understood that before. 

It's not that far. Yuuji isn't that far. He's not like, delusional or anything. He's just never really had a dad, and if he had, he thinks it would've been a lot like this is now. That's all. So on some level he can-- 

He can pretend. It doesn't hurt anyone else. Nobody else has to know. 

"A sorcerer should present themselves with dignity and pride." Nanami said in that firm, no-nonsense tone of his. Yuuji would've nodded were the man not working through the tangles in his hair, attempting to bring some sense of order to the haphazard spikes. "Care for one's appearance shows care for one's profession. If you want to be taken seriously, I suggest you keep that in mind."

He stepped back, observing Yuuji up and down. Finally, he was able to furiously nod. 

"Right! I'll try to take better care of my hair! I just don't really have a brush or anything, since this was all kind of sudden, and I really don't want to try and find Gojo-sensei's." Yuuji said. Nanami's eye twitched. "Oh! I found some money in the couch cushions and got us bread. Want some?"

Yuuji pulled a still-warm bun out of the paper bag he'd been toting, beaming. It seemed to be Nanamin's favorite, and he felt himself light up when the man reached out to take it, still staring at him with his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I truly have not an ounce of respect for that man. I'm not sure I've ever met a sorcerer so irresponsible." Nanami brought the bread up to his nose, giving it a sniff. "We'll get you some essentials afterwards. What will you be missing next? A toothbrush?"

It was said sarcastically, but Yuuji still winced. Nanami paused, mouth half-open to take a bite of his bun. Yuuji laughed awkwardly. 

"I mean, I've been using the corner of a washcloth?" Yuuji didn't mean for it to come out sounding like a question but it did anyway. He flushed slightly, shoulders hunching. "I don't even think I can get cavities anymore with Sukuna! And I found an unopened bottle of mouthwash under the sink! It's only a little expired, but google said it wasn't going to kill me or anything!" 

There was a distinct pause. 

Nanami took a very slow bite of his bread, chewing carefully and staring down at him. Yuuji took a hasty bite of his own, rocking back on his heels sheepishly. It was a little embarrassing to admit, but at the same time, he couldn't help the way his heart lightened.

This wasn't all too unusual to him. When it was just him and his grandfather, Yuuji had been in charge of getting his own things as soon as he was old enough. If he needed a new toothbrush, it was his responsibility to budget it into their grocery money and get it himself. If there weren't the funds for it, Yuuji would simply have to wait.

Gojo-sensei just kind of, sort of forgot to leave him any money or means of survival, that's all! And really, Yuuji wasn't supposed to be going into public by himself to shop anyway. Not beyond short walks and such. 

"Alright." Nanami said after a few beats. Yuuji opened his mouth and Nanamin immediately held a hand up, cutting him off. "Don't apologize. I'll put it on that idiot's tab, so don't worry about the cost. I want an itemized list of all the basic necessities you lack or are almost out of. No arguing." 

Yuuji snapped his mouth shut, unable to keep from smiling to himself despite everything. Nanami sighed, reaching over to pat him on a the head a few times. Yuuji broke out into a full out grin at the motion. 

"Alright! An itemized list!" Yuuji agreed happily. "I can-- hey! Nanamin, look, there's a cat!" 

Yuuji took off across the street towards where it was lazing, Nanami's long strides trailing after him exasperatingly, muttering about schedules to keep and getting off on time, and realized he hadn't felt lonely all week.

~~~~

Life rarely works out the way you want it to. Nanami wishes he could say he held out, kept his distance for as long as he could, but really? He broke around day three and it was a downward spiral from there. 

The first time he realizes he's smiling at his phone and genuinely enjoying Itadori's commentary is when it really hits him. When he catches himself buying a red blanket for Itadori to use at his house and a few movies for him to watch, it sinks below his skin. When Itadori falls asleep on the couch and ends up staying the night in Nanami's dusty, unused guest bedroom, it settles into his bones.

Itadori is like a tree, sturdy and sure. His roots dig deep, twisting around Nanami and holding him in place. He's helpless to do anything but let it happen. Itadori is so akin to a puppy that he sometimes wonders how he thought he had a chance at all. 

Nanami isn't the best at being entirely truthful with himself. He tries to be frank. He finds life to be easier when you approach it honestly and open your eyes to reality and all its bleakness. He tries to abide by certain standards, and he does not allow himself to become disillusioned with needless optimism like so many others fall into.

When it comes to himself, it's hard to look in the mirror and recognize that he has nothing. That's the crux of it, isn't it? His parents died when he was young and ever since Haibara, he's had nobody. He is alone. He has no family to speak of, no close friends-- he lives in solitude. 

The lonesomeness has never bothered him. Loneliness wasn't an emotion he troubled himself with. Or it hadn't been before, anyway. Itadori had somewhat ruined that for him. 

He was bright and loud and full of color. He didn't hesitate to insert himself into Nanami's life. He was touchy with his physical affection, always eager to scoot closer, to hover nearby, to get as close as he could. He soaked up praise like a sponge, and it was easy to give it to him.

Itadori was a natural talent. He was smarter than anyone had so far given him credit for. He did a good job with what he had. He was humble, he was kind, and he never once complained about his circumstance. He was entirely aware of where he stood and where his life was heading, and yet he still bore it all with a smile.

He was alone, and just the same, Nanami was too. 

Nanami started to look forward to it. Not just to teaching him, but to seeing him in general and talking to him. He anticipated the text messages they shared, and the sparse calls scattered between them. Nanami began to fret over his wellbeing-- began to concern himself over his meals, his state of living, and his mental health. 

Even when Yuuji was sent off on a mission of his own whilst Nanami broke away to go hunt down the curse they were after, he still constantly texted him updates. Talking about new friends and watching movies, and about how skittish Ijichi seemed, and how careful he was being. Nanami takes it all in and comes to one very sudden conclusion. 

Nanami doesn't want it to end. 

He doesn't want to stop worrying about how Yuuji's eating. He doesn't want to stop accumulating things in his guest room that he'd never use himself. He doesn't want to stop spending his free time talking to him, or watching movies, or cooking, or going to the store together. He doesn't want to stop teaching. 

He doesn't want to stop hearing that silly nickname, Nanamin, shot his way. He gets to know Yuuji and is stunned that nobody else has stepped in and taken him as their own. He is stunned that he might get the privilege. 

Itadori latches onto him, and Nanami is at fault for not discouraging it. Their lives fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. Yuuji shines brighter and brighter every day, and Nanami could almost compare himself to a flower in the sun, the way he seems to perk up beneath his glow. 

Nanami's routine breaks. His life gains a substance he'd forgotten it could have. Yuuji smiles, and Nanami's breaths come out easier. Nanami asks what Yuuji had for dinner, and he feels strangely relieved when he answers nothing, because that means he gets to go get him. 

A pervading sense of wrongness fills him, leaving Yuuji alone in that townhome. There's a strange peace that etches into his ribs every time he stays the night. Nanami sleeps easier knowing he's just down the hall. He wakes up more willingly knowing he has someone to share breakfast with, someone to feed. 

Purpose takes the place of distance. Here, Nanami is faced with a choice. It teeters on a wire-- this is something he could make or break. All things come to a head eventually. 

Nanami could re-draw that line in the sand right here. The curse got away and they're both injured, and Nanami could put that wall between them. It would be easy. Gojo will be back soon, Yuuji is set to return to Jujutsu High, and Nanami could sink back into the protective bubble the word "temporary" brought with it.

He just... doesn't want to. 

Nanami's life has changed in ways he didn't realize it could. He had told himself he wasn't ever, ever going to open his heart to anyone or anything else again. It was too dangerous. There was too much to lose, and he'd already given so much. But with this?

Yuuji is standing here before him, bleeding and terrified. His anger has withered, and Nanami can see it. He can see that exact grief he knew was going to eventually come. Nanami had felt it once too, and he'd handled it alone. Yuuji doesn't have to-- shouldn't have to.

Nanami thinks about his smile. He thinks about his laugh. He thinks about his enthusiasm regarding movies, and cats, and the prospect of getting stronger. He thinks about his deep sense of justice, and the seriousness with which he takes all of Nanami's lessons. He thinks about letting all of that go and wonders if he can do it. 

"Nanamin." Yuuji chokes out, tears welling up in his eyes as he trembles, and really, it's not a question at all.

"Itadori." Nanami steps forward, reaching an arm out to him. "Yuuji. Let's go home." 

Yuuji falls into him, blubbering tears. Nanami's injuries ache fiercely, but he hugs him back just as hard. He can feel his priorities shift. Yuuji will never stay the night at Gojo's townhome again. Nanami won't have a guest room anymore. With as much trouble as Yuuji gets into, Nanami might need to pick up some overtime to pay for all the food and uniforms he tears through. 

"H-He--" Yuuji choked out. "I couldn't--"

"I know." Nanami says, voice quiet and as soothing as he can make it. "I'm not going to leave you. You did a good job today, Yuuji, and you aren't alone. It's going to be alright. I promise, you did all you could." 

Maybe it wouldn't be okay today. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not even the day after that. But Yuuji won't be alone-- he hasn't been for a while now. And if Nanami has anything to say about it, he never will be again.

Jujutsu High, the elders, Gojo, even Sukuna aside. None of it matters. Nanami's got him now, and as he leads him to the car, arm around his shoulders squeezing tight as if that'll be enough to shield him from the world, he knows that this was inevitable from the moment he and Yuuji met. 

"Y-You won't--" Yuuji's hand locked around his sleeve, eyes full of all the heartbreak in the world. Something in Nanami squeezes. "You won't leave?" 

As if Nanami ever could. 

"No." He answers anyway, promise heavy in his words. He hopes Yuuji can hear it. "No, Yuuji. I'm not going anywhere." 

~~~~~

Nobara has her parents back home. Megumi has Gojo-sensei. 

Where does that leave Yuuji? 

(With a dad of his own, it turns out.)