ratiolaws

[ratiolaws]

Twisted Venus

Nanami Kento x Ieiri Shoko Canon Universe // Cross-Posted on AO3

Synopsis: Nanami was sent on a mission to execute a semi grade one curse has been blamed for the disappearance of male students in the area, but this curse had something else in store for him. Content: SFW, Nanami is cursed impacting his sex*, brief mention of smoking, implied situationship, canon typical-violence. *This is not the entire plot.

Nanami shuts the door of the black sedan, taking in a deep breath as he turns away. He began to make his way towards alley way, residuals of the cursed spirit, faint darkened steps making it easier to know exactly where he needed to be. He looks back at his driver, Ijichi, now watching from a distance, signalling to cast a veil over the area. 

A semi grade one curse has been blamed for the disappearance of male students in the area, Nanami being sent as a solo mission with Ijichi as support. 

As he lowers the curtain, Nanami turns back walking further into the alleyway, away from Ijichi. The alley is dark and narrow, if he held up both of his arms displaying his wingspan he would be able to touch the bricks on both sides of him. The pathway was cobblestone, slightly dank from the morning mildew.

The more he walked the darker the alleyway became, the residuals felt like it was never ending to Nanami. He raises his hand, adjusting his round glasses. A flicker of movement flashes in the corner of his eye, immediately moving his hand away from his glasses under his blazer, he grabs the handle of his blunt blade. He then begins to pull out his blade, turning a slow one-eighty in the direction he saw the blur of movement. He stops in his tracks the moment he faces the cursed spirit, an oddly unique one to him. 

The cursed spirit resembled the shape of a dark, almost black toned, deer-like figure with antlers curled into a crescent shape, in a bipedal position, facing him directly. Six eyes, split into threes on the dog-like face the cursed spirit had. 

An interesting combination of different animals make up this curse spirit’s figure. It’s stronger than the higher ups had said just by studying its cursed energy. It’s at least a grade one. Thankfully I was able to go alone… actually, that I went instead of a student or mentee in general. 

Nanami studies the behavior of the cursed spirit as he thinks to himself. It wasn't acting hostile, it looked exactly what a frightened deer blinded by headlights would look like.

Suddenly the deer shaped curse lunges after him. His eyes widen, thankful for his quick reflexes he swiftly dodges the curse. He continued to study the curse, noticing where hooves should go there were instead hands that resembled human hands. 

The curse lunges again, Nanami weaves to the side simultaneously finding an opening to use his technique. He swings his blunt blade, watching it perfectly collide with the curse’s left shoulder. The limb launches to the side, slamming into the cobblestone pavement. 

The curse immediately reacts letting out a gargled scream as it charges at inhuman speeds. Nanami’s still in the zone slides out of the way, spinning on his heels to face the curse again to swing once more. 

Unfortunately for Nanami, the curse turned before he had the chance to react, slicing through his blue collared shirt, directly contacting his skin against his right side. The curse runs towards the opposite side of the alleyway, now observing Nanami who clutched his side. He grits his teeth, it felt nothing worse than a cat scratch, but it had the burn of rubbing alcohol. Warm dark blood began to ooze through his shirt.

The curse then bounces off the wall. 

A mistake. 

Nanami raises his blunt blade as the curse falls towards him. The curse’s canine head meets his blade immediately, the 7:3 technique splitting from the cranium through between its legs. 

Purple ooze sprayed across Nanami’s face and clothing. He flicks his blade, slinging the curse’s remains to the side. He wipes his face, sighing to himself. The burning sensation from the scratch remained consistent. He places his free hand on his newly formed injury against his ribs, feeling the slight dankness. He lifts his hand, a faint appearance of crimson red glosses over his hand. He places his hand against his side again, applying pressure as he begins to make his way back to Ijichi.

The cut isn’t deep, it will close before we make it back to Jujutsu Tech, thankfully.

Making his way back to Ijichi, the sting from his wound still lingers, however the bleeding had finally halted sometime during his walk back to his junior. Ijichi notices the stain on his shirt immediately, “Nanami, you’re injured?” He asks skeptically, he knew this was supposed to be a lower grade curse so seeing his senior who is a grade one sorcerer, this was surprising. 

Nanami sighs as he straightens his blazer, “It was a grade one curse, nothing too serious. Which continues to be an ongoing mistake from the higher ups..” He explained bitterly, stopping in his tracks in front of Ijichi. “It is simply a scratch, the bleeding has already stopped.” He reassured, noticing Ijichi’s continued concerned expression, who nodded silently accepting his explanation. “It seems that there may be a pattern.” 

Nanami’s expression hardens slightly, deciding to bite his tongue as they begin to walk back to the black sedan. “A pattern may be an understatement.” Muttered words escaped his throat as he opened the passenger door, the click from the door muffling his words further. 

As Ijichi started the car, Nanami felt a subtle weight’s presence pressing against his forehead. The pressure was barely noticeable until he wasn't distracted by the conversation they were having moments prior. The continuous sound of the tires moving across gravel only made the pressure behind his eyes progressively worsen. 

Laying his head against the window, watching the scenery, choosing to attempt to ignore the oncoming migraine he had. Ijichi notices his movements out of the corner of his eye. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, “Nanami, are you feeling alright?” 

Nanami inhales deeply, crossing his arms, “Headache.” He answers flatly, closing his eyes, blocking incoming light from the afternoon sun that intensified the pressure behind his eyes. 

Ijichi focuses on the road ahead, narrowing his eyes, as possibilities circulated through his head. “Did the curse strike you in more than one place?” He questioned curiously, wondering if Nanami was more injured than he was letting it be known. It was known that Nanami had a track record of downplaying his injuries in front of his colleagues to prevent them from worrying about him. “No.” He answered firmly, making it clear that his answer was final and honest. 

The hour-long car ride was a drag for Nanami, the silence only made his migraine worse. The sound of the tires against the paved road under him, the bumps in the road causing him to knock his head against the glass window, passing neon billboards making their way through his closed eyelids, all of it was overstimulating. The car slowly comes to a stop, Ijichi finally shifting the gear into park. Turning his head to face his blond colleague, the sunlight highlighting the sweat beads that dripped from Nanami’s forehead. His eyes trailed down, noticing the outline of his figure had shifted dramatically. 

Nanami sits up groaning slightly, his palm pressed against his forehead. He felt the wetness that had leaked from his hairline touch his fingertips. “I’ll file the report after having lunch.” He mumbles, slipping his hand under the door handle. The incoming sunlight immediately worsened his headache as expected.

Ijichi’s eyebrows furrowed, his mouth parted to protest. ‘His voice… Maybe it’s from falling ill.’ His optimistic way of thinking about his colleague, ‘However… his figure didn’t look like that this morning…’ 

Stepping out of the car, feeling the fresh spring breeze brush against his face, Nanami inhales deeply as the cooling effect from his sweat sets in. “Nanami,” Ijichi states, as firmly as he could to the man, now stepping out of the car. “You must see Ieiri before you attend lunch.” 

Nanami turns to face the nervous supervisor, “I told you, it’s nothing more than a scrape, the headache will be resolved after some food enters my system.” He states, the pitch of his voice is more noticeable to Ijichi now, as well as his figure. His eyebrows raise in shock, “Do you hear yourself?” He protests shutting the car door, marching over to his long-time colleague. 

Nanami’s expression hardens as he fixes his green glasses, “Do I hear myself? Ijichi, it’s noth-” “Your voice, not the “I’m okay” rhetoric you’re spewing to me. It was certainly more than a scrape, Nanami.” He interjects, taking Nanami’s blue sleeve into his grasp, pulling him away from the vehicle. “My voice?” He inquires, his voice now softer as he reaches up to his throat now wondering if the headache made his voice huskier. 

“You sound- and look- You need Ieiri’s attention.” Ijichi mutters, giving up on arguing with the blond man, now practically dragging him towards the infirmary. 

Nanami, now frustrated and confused, huffs out a thick breath. “You’re not explaining-” “You wouldn’t believe it, hell, I wouldn’t believe it if I were you.”

KNOCK KNOCK

The door swung open almost immediately, Shoko stood before Ijichi with her arms crossed. “And I was just about to go on lunch.” She states shaking her head noticing his fist was still in the air. He lowers his hand, “It’s Nanami.” He pants, his head motioning over to the sorcerer standing out of eye view. 

Shoko pops her head out of the door frame, eyeing Nanami standing in the dimly lit hallway with his arms tucked over his chest. “Can he move?” She questioned, now stepping out of the doorway. 

“Well, yes, he just believes this is a waste of time.” He explains, fixing his glasses holding his clipboard close to his chest. 

Shoko makes her way over to the sorcerer who is leaning against the wall behind him with his head tilted upwards. “It’s just a headache.” He mutters as Shoko approaches. 

She stifles a chuckle, noticing the change of pitch in his voice. “Unfortunately, it’s not “just a headache,” Nanami.” She corrects placing her finger tips against his throat. She didn’t feel anything odd or out of place that would shift his vocal cords into this position. “Does your throat hurt as well?” The coolness of her finger tips touching his throat unexpectedly caused his body to jolt. “No.” He responds, taking in a deep breath through his nostrils, now looking down at her. “Ijichi is only being slightly dramatic about my condition.” 

Shoko hums, pulling her fingers away from his throat. “I believe you’re underestimating your condition, once again.” She deadpans, turning back to Ijichi, “I’ll take care of him. Will you pick up some lunch for the both of us? It's going to be a long day.” 

Ijichi salutes, the corner of his lips twisting slightly. “Will do!” He chirps before disappearing down the corridors. 

Nanami pushes himself off of the wall, “Nothing that your technique can’t fix, correct?” He breathes following her into the infirmary, the bright white lights now displaying his change in figure more adequately. 

Shoko, continuing to lead him to the examination table, patting her hand on the thin paper. “We’ll see, this is…” Turning to face him, her eyes immediately widened. His waist was thinner, hips more pronounced and wide, his bust was more prominent than it was before. “...Unique.” She finishes with a murmur, her eyes flickering up and down from his eyes to his figure. “What was known about that curse?” 

Nanami takes off his glasses, setting them to the side table. “That it caused the disappearance of male students specifically in the area. Nothing else is known.” He recalls as he climbs onto the examination table. “Nothing too different than any other curse, just a specific demographic that was targeted.”

Humming, Shoko turns to the cabinet in the corner of the infirmary. “I think I know why it seems that it targeted male students, and why those male students seemed to disappear into thin air.” She muses, taking a handheld mirror out of the same cabinet. 

“Some misandrist curse? What could be-” Shoko places the mirror in front of Nanami’s face. His expression immediately hardens looking at himself. Noticing the slight difference in his facial structure, his cheekbones were higher, his hairline more full than it was this morning. “Oh.” He mutters running his fingers through his hair. “This is particular.” He takes the mirror with his opposite hand attempting to observe his whole body with just the handheld. 

Shoko crosses her arms over her chest, sighing, “I haven’t seen something like this since Maki came back carrying Inumaki as a cat that could speak fluent rice ball ingredients.” She reflects covering her mouth letting out a small chuckle. “Oh when he cursed himself in the mirror?” Nanami recalls glancing up from his reflection. 

She nods with a sigh, “That was an interesting day, almost as intriguing as you currently. Now, where did the curse hit you?” 

He sighs, placing the mirror next to his glasses. He slips off his blazer, placing it behind him before untucking his blue collared shirt from his slacks. Finally lifting his shirt up, revealing the injury. 

Shoko’s eyes immediately notice the redness surrounding the mysterious symbols where he said he was struck. A triple moon symbolizing the phases a woman may go through in her lifetime was displayed, almost like a tattoo permanently on his body under his ribs. “Fascinating.” She murmurs ogling the symbols before pulling her eyes away from the tattoo-like mark. She turns to the counter behind her, “Does it hurt?”

Nanami’s eyebrows furrowed watching her turn away, “No. I can help but notice you don’t seem concerned that my biology seemingly changed within a few hours either.” He rebukes, his fingers curled tightly around the fabric of his shirt. 

“Be grateful Ijichi’s anxiousness in his nature brought you here before it got worse. This is reversible.” She scolds, pulling gloves over her hands. Pulling up a chair, now sitting at his side, she places the back of her hand against the three moons, noticing the heat radiating off of the injury. “Makes sense, that’s what I was afraid of.” She mutters mostly to herself.

Nanami rolls his eyes, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” He chokes out as she applies pressure to the wound. He gasps out, now glaring at the doctor.  “Poison and an infection, nothing irreversible like I said. Now who’s worrying too much?” She jabs, her lips curling into a smirk as she pulls her gloved hands away from the wound.

He lets out a huff closing his eyes, his migraine still present now coming in waves. Shoko pushes herself away from the examination table, rolling over to the same counter she was at before. Opening the drawer revealed labeled vials and syringes in cases. “If it makes you feel any better about the situation, Nanami, you do make an attractive woman.”

He scoffs lowering his shirt, shaking his head in disapproval. “Only you would make light of the situation in such a way.” He comments, his voice barely above a murmur as if he were hiding his embarrassment. 

She takes a vial and syringe out of the drawers, slipping the protective seal off of the syringe, “I am only being honest with you.” She confesses, her smirk turning into a small grin. Nanami notices her expression shift, it was a subtle grin, but it was present upon her lips. “You’re enjoying yourself aren’t you?” 

She glances back at him, sticking the needle into the vial, pulling back the plunger to allow epinephrine to fill the barrel. “Only a tad, this is one of the most abnormal cases I've had after all.” She confirms tip-toeing over to the blond sorcerer. 

Nanami sighs rolling up his sleeve over his bicep. “So you take the opportunity to flirt with me, hmm?” He remarks with a small smirk curling upon his lips, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “I’ll take any opportunity to fluster you, it has nothing to do with your current vulnerable position.” She insists as she presses down on the plunger allowing the air from the barrel to escape through the needle. “Also, the needle doesn’t go there.” She motions to his bicep with the needle, towering over him. He lowers his shirt sleeve, sighing as he shifts his weight to prepare for her to jab him. She squats down level to his thigh, expression hardening as she presses the cold needle against the fabric of his tan slacks, “Any other symptoms that I should know about?” 

“Do I need to-” “No.” She interjects, pressing the needle through his clothes into his outer thigh. He winces slightly through his nostrils from the unexpected stab, “Nothing worse than a common cold.” He answers her previous question through gritted teeth, tilting his head down to face her, to which her gaze was already on him. 

Their proximity filled Nanami with a warm bubbly feeling in the pit of his stomach. “How do you feel now?” She asks, now focusing on the syringe, pulling the needle out of him gingerly. Nanami’s jaw relaxes watching as she pulls away from his thighs. “It’s…” He starts hesitantly as she throws out the needle into the biohazard bin as well as the vial used, “I feel great.” He admits softly leaning back against the padding of the examination table. 

Silence fell between the both of them, it was a comfortable silence as Shoko jotted down the information based on Nanami’s conditions into her report. The sound of the pen against the paper soothing his racing mind from the long day he already had. 

She signs her name at the bottom of the page with a dramatic swift of her hand, which Nanami observes carefully from the examination table. “Here, you can use this in your report.” She states, breaking the silence between the two of them. He extends his arm, reaching out for the sheet of paper as she places it in his palm. “Thanks.” He mumbles, flipping it over, skimming the report diligently. 

“How long until this wears off?” He mumbles his eyes flickering down at his body, now noticing the tightness around his chest caused by his tight button up. 

“Could be anywhere between a few hours to a few days.” Shoko walks back over to his bedside, helping him sit up. “Lift your shirt again.”

He obliges, revealing the three moons plastered against his side. She bends over, placing her hand above the symbols, careful to not touch it directly before inhaling deeply through her nose and using reverse curse technique. “This should assist the pain it may cause, I wouldn’t doubt those cold-like symptoms come back as your testosterone levels stabilize.” 

He watches her silently, mesmerized by her efficiency and care for her craft, despite cheating her way through medical school. “Ieiri, were you being completely honest earlier?” He questions, his voice softer, filled with vulnerability. 

“For someone who is all about being professional you are truly hooked on the one thing-” She starts glancing up and catching his gaze noticing how his expression softened. “Yes, I was being honest. I wouldn’t lie about something like that, nor would I deny that you are attractive in general.” She reassures pulling herself up, now looking down at him, his gaze following hers as she shifts positions. 

She watches as his eyes widen to her admission. They fall into a trance-like state, studying each other's gazes, as if trying to read each other's inner thoughts and desires. Nanami’s heart rate quickened, noticing Shoko’s subtle lean towards him, her hand slowly reaching out, grazing his cheek. The warmth radiating from her usually cold hand startles him, he wasn’t expecting such a bold move out of her despite what she had just admitted. He parts his lips, sucking in a small gasp of air, “I wasn’t aware that you-” 

Shoko cuts him off quickly with a shake of her head, removing her palm and turning away from him. “Sorry.” She utters out lowly returning to her chair, a few feet away from the examination table. She clears her throat awkwardly, eyeing the analog clock. “Ijichi should be coming back soon with lunch.”

Nanami watches her eyes trace the wall, noting that she is now refusing eye contact with him. Clenching his fists slowly, the abnormal amount of sweat gathering in his palms slightly alarmed him. ‘It’s the adrenaline boost.’ He convinced himself over and over again, refusing to consider Shoko’s closeness moments ago was affecting his nervous system. “Maybe a meal will cure this migraine.” He mumbles, his eyes now glued to the ceiling as he lays back against the examination table. 

They sit in an awkward silence, Shoko doodling on the blank sheet of paper clipped in her clipboard. Her thoughts occasionally flashing back to their shared proximity, the way his eyes widened in astonishment, the way his breath hitched once she leaned closer, all of it made her stomach twist and turn. She didn’t mind the fact that he was hexed by the curse he fought hours prior that shifted his appearance and biology. She knew deep down that she had always found Nanami attractive, but never dared to admit it aloud. 

Puzzled, she ponders to herself why now was she admitting this information. ‘He needed reassurance in case this was long lasting, the last thing he needed was to have a complex about his subtle-’ She glances back at him, ‘-not so subtle shift in appearance.’ She considers, convincing herself her compliment, which turned into an admission of general attraction, was for the better good of his mental health.

Nanami counts the titles on the ceiling, ‘52, 53, 54’, serving as a distraction towards the silence they are now sitting in. In between counting his mind will shift back to Shoko suddenly pulling away. He clenches his fists, ‘55, 56, 56, no 57. She pulled away so suddenly, would she have done the same if- 58, 59, 60.’ The sudden intrusive thoughts began to eat him away, he couldn’t stop. He closes his eyes, drawing in a deep breath.

“Why did you hesitate?”

Shoko’s body jerks, her head whipping back to face him suddenly. “Nanami…”

His eyes fluttered open, tilting his head against the firm cushion, now facing her directly. His gaze was intense, pleading for an answer silently.

She sucks in a breath, “You and I both know it isn’t right, for you or me.” She explains, her voice hiding the inner conflict she was also handling. 

“I’m still me.” 

"The poison changed your biochemistry, including your neurology. What you are saying and thinking currently isn't what you would normally want or do." She crosses her legs, placing the clipboard under her arm. 

He scoffs tilting his head back towards the ceiling, “You could not possibly know what I want.” He tucks his arms tightly over his chest, letting out a small sigh. “It doesn't change that this may have lingered in the back of my mind for years, regardless of a curse impacting my physical biology.” 

A flicker of light flashes behind Shoko’s eyes, “You are the type of person to not allow emotions to impact your work even outside of jujutsu. What are you talking about?” She retorts, her eyebrows knitted together. 

Nanami’s lips twirl into a smirk, tilting his head back to face her. “Oh yes, because showing up at your doorstep a little too drunk, off the clock mind you, is displaying little to no interest.” His sarcastic tone dripped off his tongue like honey would drip off a spoon. 

Her lips parted as she sucked in a sharp breath, agitated that he wasn't listening to what she was attempting to convey. The excuses he made worsened her attitude, “That still isn't the correct state of mind.” She hisses, raising her hand to emphasize the absurdity of his argument. “You're never in a sober state, or a state where your hormones aren’t imbalanced, when you want something more from me.”

Nanami chews the inside of his cheek, “Have you considered it's difficult for someone to admit something like that with the world we live in?” He mutters monotonously, his tone slowly shifting back to a lower octave. The treatment had begun to set in, affecting the octave range of his voice first. 

“Yes I have, why else do you believe I would admit you are attractive today out of all days of the year, out of all the years I’ve known you? I did that for your own good.” She barks back standing from the stool she had been sitting on. She extends her index finger, “Afterall, I wasn't completely sure if this was reversible in the beginning. I didn't want you to live in insecurity.” Her tone softens as she watches his gaze lock on his hands, his expression softening, almost appearing relaxed but in reality he felt a dagger stab him in the back. 

“My own good.” He repeats following up with a bitter chuckle. “I didn’t need a compliment from you to feel less like shit about what occurred today, Ieiri.” His tone was cold, he shifted his gaze away from her. 

His tone sent shivers down Shoko’s core, “Nanami, I didn’t-”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Shoko shifts her gaze away from Nanami, the knock on the door was a familiar three beat sequence that only Ijichi and Gojo would use. ‘Gojo would just make this whole encounter more tense than what it already was,’ Silently praying that it was her underclassmen, she twists the handle, pulling back the heavy door, allowing it to make a loud creak in the painful silence of the room. 

“I hope Ramen was alright.” Ijichi awkwardly laughs before she fully opens the door. He stood there with two brown bags in one hand with to-go bowls full of ramen. 

She reaches out and takes the bags from him, “Thank you, Ijichi.” She states, her tone now colder than what it once was before he had left. 

He tries to look back into the infirmary, “Is he… alright?” He asks hesitantly, unable to see the examination table where Nanami was laying. 

Shoko glances over her shoulder, “He’s recovering, he should be fine within the next few hours. He’ll stay here for the time being.” She explains slowly taking a step back, gripping the outer part of the door. 

Ijichi tilts his head, bewildered by her sudden behavior. He finally takes the hint that she is still busy attending him and steps away from the entryway. 

Shoko allows the door to shut by itself as she turns on her heels with the bags of food in her fist, now facing Nanami. “Is it sanitary to eat that here?” His bitter tone is still apparent in his question. Shoko could tell it was meant to be passive aggressive, “Obviously not, but I do not expect you-” She sighs, cutting herself off, shaking her head, “Do you prefer to eat in the lounge?”

“I would prefer we not.”

“So here is fine then.” “Here is fine.” She shoots a glare at him noting that he is making this more complicated than necessary on purpose. “Your voice is coming back.” She comments making her way over to the examination table, placing the brown bag on the overbed table next to his glasses. 

“Is it?” He asks, his tone filled with skepticism as he opens the brown bag revealing generic ramen in a plastic container and a pair of wooden chopsticks. ‘I assume Ijichi purchased the same safe order for both of us.’ He places the container onto the table, twisting his body so now his legs are dangling off of the bed, now facing his lunch, finally. 

Shoko nods making her way back to her desk, “It is, which is a good sign that you’ll be back to yourself relatively soon.” She states sitting against the stool, laying her brown bag down. She takes out the same exact ramen bowl, noodles, green onions, soft boiled egg, and pork. “Safe choice.” She murmurs to herself peeling back the container lid. 

Nanami takes his chopsticks, already having taken the lid off while Shoko was explaining his estimated recovery time, and picks up a few strands of noodles. He lifts the noodles to his lips, the steam wafting across his face. “Same thing?” He asked, referring to the ramen choice, before he blows air against the noodles, his gaze now locked on her again. 

Shoko looks down at her ramen, nodding, picking up her own chopsticks. “Definitely not my go to for ramen, or lunch period I should say.” 

“You prefer more vegetables.” He states, almost a little too nonchalantly before placing the noodles in his mouth with a slurp. 

Shoko glances up at him, “I do.” She confirms, her gaze back down to her bowl, placing her chopsticks in the bowl, lifting up a strand as well. 

Shoko takes a bite of her ramen, placing her chopsticks next to the bowl, reaching down and opening her file drawer, revealing three water bottles. She picks one up and places it on her desk, then takes the other one in her opposite hand. She lifts herself up from her chair, walking over to the examination table. “Here.” She sighs softly, setting it against the table. Nanami nods symbolizing a “thank you” as he swallows.

“How did you know I prefer more veggies?” Shoko asks, shuffling back to her stool, she pushes herself back to her desk lifting her chopsticks. 

Nanami hums softly, “We had ramen together a while back, a while.” He emphasizes, recalling the one occurrence he had witnessed Shoko with a bowl of ramen to her liking. “Maybe two to three years ago we we’re out for lunch and…” He rambles, cutting himself off, catching himself staring into his bowl.

Shoko scoffs quietly, shaking her head, picking up more noodles, “You remember that? And you remember the contents I had in my bowl?”

He looks up from his bowl, “I assume you do not?”

“Not necessarily, but it is interesting… that you do.” She responds, her voice hushed as she places the noodles onto her tongue. He studies her movements unconsciously, somehow Shoko’s swift movements with just the chopsticks in her hand moving up to her lips made his stomach flip. 

Nanami sighs, shaking his head, bringing the bowl up to his lips and guiding the noodles with his chopsticks as he slurps down some of the broth.  

Shoko swallows, catching a glimpse of his previous stare. “You observe without knowing a lot don’t you?”

Nanami pulls the bowl away from his face, a mouthful of salty broth sitting upon his tongue. He blows out air through his nostrils, swallowing. “I do, it’s a habit from this shit hole.”

“You also savor every bite you take from of whatever you’re eating.”

“You noticed?” “A while ago.”

____________

“I think it’s best if you go home for the remainder of the day, Nanami.” Shoko states watching the clock. “It seems like your condition has gradually reversed within the last hour; However, I believe it’s for the best.” She tilts her head back towards Nanami, it had been another hour of waiting and observing in the infirmary waiting for the curse to gradually wear off. He lost most of the feminine physique that altered his appearance, but it is unsure if his hormones had stabilized as well. “I would’ve sent you home after treatment, but-” “Thank you.” He cuts her off stepping off of the examination table, grabbing his glasses from the side table. He slips his tan blazer back over his shoulders, slipping his glasses into the lower pocket. “Thank you for not sending me home.”

Shoko scoffs, making her way over to him, “Let me see the symbol before you leave.” She urges pushing back his blazer. She lifts his buttoned up revealing a faded three moon phase symbol. Her bare finger grazes over the marking. Her unexpected touch sent shivers down Nanami’s spine, “Still there?” He asks, his eyes locked on Shoko’s index finger touching his abdomen.

Shoko hums, her eyes slowly tracing upwards, “It’s there, but it’s similar to a faded tattoo. The redness and heat surrounding the area is also gone.” She reassures, pulling her hands away from his torso and clothing, now looking up at him. “My best guess is that it will be completely faded by the time you arrive home.” She adds glancing back at the clock again. 

He hums, now also glancing at the clock, “I assume Gojo does his daily rounds in here after training the first years for the day, and that’s why you want me to leave.” He comments knowingly. He knew how Gojo functioned, he would see him the same time every day as if Gojo purposely made it a part of his schedule. 

Shoko smiles sheepishly, “You know how he is. I would just prefer you to not blow a fuse in here with whatever comes out of his mouth.” She breathes, closing her eyes with a shrug. 

Nanami chuckles softly, bending down and picking up his discarded patterned tie. Shoko opens one eye looking down at him, she smirks slightly, leaning her weight overtop of his body. His head tilts up slowly, now meeting her gaze. His eyes widened as he freezes, now below her height, almost confused as to what she was thinking. 

“You know I stole this moment from you earlier.” She confesses, her hushed breath brushing against Nanami’s nose. His eyebrows slowly lowered, his mouth parts hesitantly sucking in air, “I-” His heart skipped a beat, he didn’t have enough time to express his thoughts before Shoko’s lips collided with his in a smooth motion. Her lips felt as if warm velvet fabric grazed his lips. His stomach was twisting in knots as he guided his palm to her cheek. Beginning to move his lips against hers, as the initial shock fades his eyes flutter shut, exhaling deeply through his nose. 

Shoko’s mind was racing as her lips collided with his, cutting him off, it was almost instinct to her to lean in and prevent another rambling session. Her head spun from his cold and unresponsive lips at first, until he returned the kiss. His fingers cupped around her cheek, slowly tracing their way to the back of her neck. His lips felt warmer as their lips moved against one another, opening their mouths simultaneously gingerly brushing their tongues together before closing their mouths again. Nanami could still taste the cigarette and sweetened chapstick from her break after their shared lunch hour, it was addicting. She raises her palms, cupping both sides of his face in response. 

Knock Knock Knock

They both exhale through their nose, pulling away, Shoko’s hands still on his cheeks and his still at the base of the back of her neck. Shoko pulls away from him, making her way to the door. Her lips tingle, she reaches up and touches her bottom lip with her index finger as she touches the door handle. 

“I heard Nanamin was here~” The familiar voice chirped from behind the cracked door. She inhales slowly, opening the door completely, “I just discharged him.” She states, her voice gruff still in an obvious daze. 

Gojo pushes past Shoko, “He can say hi before he leaves, right?” He smirks, his eyes locked on Nanami who was buttoning his blazer. “Nanami~ you have tits.” He comments his tone shifting from playful into pure bewilderment. 

Nanami glances up, “I do.” He mutters, he knew his appearance hadn't fully come back and some more noticeable parts to his physique were still apparent, like his bust size. He walks by Gojo and Shoko, buttoning the last flap on his suit. 

“Is this treatable?” Gojo gawked his head towards Shoko, impressed by Nanami’s nonchalance about the issue. 

“She already treated me.” He interjects walking through the doorway, not looking back. 

Shoko watches him leave suddenly, her eyes watching the door shut behind him. “I wouldn’t send him home if he were still in critical condition.” She retorts, spinning on the heels of her feet with her arms tucked under her arms. 

“I’m more curious as to how long this will affect him.” Gojo clarifies running his fingers through his pearly white hair.

Shoko sighs, “It was worse a few hours ago, it should be cleared up by the time he gets home.” She states walking away from him and the door. “Did you need something or were you only tormenting him?” “No one told me he came back safe.”

____________

Nanami makes his way into the restrooms next to the infirmary, he stares at himself in the mirror. He recognized himself, vaguely, the appearance was subtly shifting as time went on. He looks down at his bust, noting that it wasn’t that much bigger than what it usually was. He inhales deeply, taking a breath, turning on the faucet and letting the water flow into the sink. 

He splashes his face with cold water, rubbing it into his face. The coldness of the water cooling his temperature spiked even higher once Gojo began his daily teasing. Usually, he wouldn’t pay any mind to it, but something was different about his comment.

He looks back up into the mirror, water droplets dripping from his nose and jawline. He reaches up and presses his index finger to his lips. The frustration wasn’t from Gojo’s comment, it was the untimely manner of his interruption of an intimate moment. ‘Could I even call that intimate?’ 

He pulls away from his reflection, listening to the patter against the wooden floor pass by the restroom doors. As the steps fade away he opens the door, looking down the hallway where the steps went towards, seeing the white haired man in the distance. He sighed, feeling a little guilty about leaving suddenly, but he remembered what Shoko wanted before their moment. 

His steps lead him down the same direction as Gojo, his mind filled with unfinished business, things he still wanted to say to Shoko, actions he wished he had more time to complete.

That familiar panging in his head came back behind his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he comes to a stop in the middle of the corridor. Spinning on the balls of his feet, he turns back to the direction of the infirmary. 

Shoko is cleaning up, throwing the brown bags and water bottles from their lunch into the recycling bin and saving the containers for future use. She hums softly to herself as she reaches into the file drawer grabbing her pack of cigarettes, deciding now would be a good time for a break. 

She exits the infirmary, hearing footsteps behind her as she locks the door. Her head tilts into the direction, seeing Nanami make his way back. “I figured you went home for the day.” She comments as she twists the key before taking it out and placing it in her lab coat pocket. 

"Almost," he states, his soft tone taking Shoko by surprise after seeing his last interaction with Gojo. "Ieiri, I apologize for making you feel like-" She shakes her head, cutting him off mid apology. "You didn't make me do anything." She responds, turning completely towards him, catching his gaze. “It could happen again if you’d allow it.” 

Her comment takes him by surprise, his eyebrows raising as the guilt in his gaze went away. “Again?” He repeats as his mouth suddenly becomes dryer while his palms dampen. “And if I did allow it?”

Shoko smirks walking past him with her pack of cigarettes in hand, “We’ll see what the future holds in store.” She remarks holding up the pack in between her fingers. “Have a good evening, Nanami.”

He watches her slowly disappear down the hall with a small smirk smeared across his lips. He lets out a small scoff shaking his head, “Do you have a lighter?” He calls out walking after her. 

Shoko pauses patting her pockets down, giving him time to catch up to her. She turns her head back, catching a glance as he makes his way up to her. “I do.” She responds with a sly grin tapping her top pocket of her slacks. “You only said that to catch up to me.” “Maybe so.” He shrugs now walking by her side. “You look so far into the future that you leave me behind. At times, I feel as if I have to call out for you just so you can stop for a moment so I have a chance to catch up.”

“I don’t mean to leave you behind.”

“You left before I could tell you to have a good evening.” Footnotes: Fem!Nanashoko inspired by @ricebunnyarts (also on twt) Inspiration and Credit

[ratiolaws]

A Taste of Balance — Higuruma Week 2025

White Day + Cooking

Higuruma Hiromi x Nanami Kento

Synopsis: Higuruma is a man without work-life balance that is simultaneously full of bad luck. So, once White Day finally arrives he knows he must return the favor to Nanami from the month prior. Content: SFW, no curse AU, fluff, bad communication and poor work-life balance skills.

One more work day until the weekend, cases were piling up left and right, his desk was covered in stacks of paperwork waiting to be filed and organized. At this point, he did not have the motivation or care. Leaving it as a tomorrow problem, he stands from his desk throwing his arms above his head, leaning backwards and groaning as he stretches. 

Hiromi Higuruma is a forgetful person, not on purpose at least. The compilation of his workload on top of trying to survive his day to day gets in the way of the little pleasures that lurk in his everyday life.  

Leaving the firm, blindly passing his colleagues as he passes through the corridors and doorways making his way to the exit. On a normal day, he would stay and finish at least one more case but something was telling him he needed to leave on time.

Letting the door behind him slam shut as he meets the brisk evening air of the outside world. Inhaling slowly, leaving his stress from work within the firm he begins his adventure home. 

‘I’m forgetting something, keys? In my left pocket. Phone? Back right pocket. Attaché case? In my left hand.’

Higuruma lifts his head, turning his focus onto the shops surrounding him. The gleaming white lights conflicted with the orange haze reflecting from the sunset, nearly blinding him. He turns his head to the opposite side of the street, noticing a large white banner stretched across the name of the building.

Celebrate White Day With Us.

Higuruma’s heart pounds against his chest, the grip he had on his bag’s handle tightening so much his knuckles began to turn white. His heartbeat filled his ears, heat rising through his ears. He finally reaches into his back right pocket, taking out his phone. 

March 13th. 

“Shit.” He curses under his breath whipping his head around knowing shops would begin to close within the next few hours. He rushes down the streets silently praying something would catch his eyes passing through crowds of people who were also doing last minute shopping after their day in the office. 

‘I cannot forget this as well.’ 

Higuruma enters his front door, kicking his shoes off at the entrance, dropping his keys in a small homemade key sunflower ceramic dish that Nanami had made him a few months ago. He groans softly, finally being able to relax after a long day in the firm. He slips off his blazer, lazily throwing it on the coat rack. 

Making his way to his sitting room, he slouches against his couch closing his eyes. He lets out a long deep exhale kicking his feet up on the ottoman in front of him, tilting his head back. 

His thoughts were distanced and hushed for the first time in hours. His eyes were closed and he was nearly dozing off into a faint sleep.

Ding dong

Higuruma’s eyes shot wide open, his brows furrowed looking at the analog clock hanging from his wall. ‘It’s fifteen after seven. I've already missed the door salesmen for the day.’ He thought to himself. Pushing himself off of his couch onto his feet his thoughts began to race, ‘A hypnopompic hallucination isn't unlikely now that I think about it.’ 

Opening the door slowly he was greeted by a tall blond man in a tan suit and bowtie with a grin plastered across his lips. Holding a beautiful bouquet of red roses and sunflowers accented with white daisies and wildflowers wrapped in brown paper.

“Kento-” Higuruma breathes out catching his gaze until his eyes trail down to the flowers. “Oh-” he starts again, his face flushing suddenly as the day’s date flashes through his head. 

“I forgot all about today- I’m so sorry. The firm was slammed, I was slammed with paperwork for the last week. I just walked through my door-”Nanami's smile turns into a small smirk as he rambles on. Lowering the bouquet to his side as he cups Higuruma’s cheek leaning in quickly. He connects their lips, cutting off the lawyer’s pointless rambling. The kiss was short and sweet, Higuruma could taste the remains of Nanami’s third cup of black coffee on his lips as well as Nanami could taste his. 

Nanami breaks the kiss exhaling softly, “You worry too much, Hiromi. Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

Higuruma quickly passes through the doors of a flower shop, allowing the doors to slam behind him. He glances around, overwhelmed by the assortment of different types of multicolored flowers. Minutes go by, which felt like hours for him. ‘Red, blue, purple, yellow- am I overlooking white flowers?’ He silently curses, turning his head away from the collection of flowers surrounding him, scanning the room for a florist. Finally, a girl with long black hair in a green apron catches his eye.

“Excuse me-”

“My apologies, but if you’re looking for any white flowers, we just sold the last bundle.” She states, as if she had been planning this conversation for the last five minutes. She looked stressed and overwhelmed, knowing the holiday traffic would make sense. 

Higuruma sighs, glancing at the door watching a tall slender man exit with a bouquet of white roses accented with baby’s breath. He nods, “Right.” He mutters, trudging away from the employee. ‘Just my luck.’ 

Higuruma stopped in a few more shops on his way home. He did get a little lucky with a small snow globe that depicted a beach scene. It wasn’t white, even the glitter inside that made the snow illusion wasn’t white, but it reminded him of Nanami. 

He arrives home late, nothing out of the ordinary for him. Working late hours, finishing the workload only to be assigned more the next day. He found it pointless and his routine began to feel mundane as the years progressed. 

Sauntering over to his couch, laying the black bag containing the snow globe on the end table next to him. Lying and stretching flat against his leather couch he takes out his phone. 

Any plans after work tomorrow? Unless you decide to go over again.

Kento Nanami. 07:20 pm.

Working late hours again, I assume. 

Kento Nanami. 08:45 pm.

Higuruma frowns slightly glancing at the current time. Five minutes until ten. He sighs, laying his phone against his forehead, cursing himself for the lack of work-life balance he had and poor communication skills he had because he simply forgets to check. 

I’ll leave on time. 

Hiromi Higuruma. 9:56 pm.

He lays his phone on the ottoman, covering his face letting out a long groan. ‘My work-life balance needs work. I don’t know why or how he puts up with my bullshit.’

Higuruma’s eyes fluttered open, his mouth was dry and his back ached from falling asleep on his leather couch. He murmurs nonsense to himself as he takes his phone off of the ottoman. 8:30 am. “Shit.” He gasped out springing off of the couch, running towards his bedroom. 

He quickly throws on new clothes, noting that he didn’t even change from the day prior. He tosses his old clothes towards the hamper in the corner of the room, which then landed on the floor. He pulls on a clean pair of black slacks as well as a white button-up, he grabs a tie placing it in his mouth as he slips his socks on his feet. 

He then darts back towards his living room, his tie still in his mouth, he slips on his black loafers cursing himself for falling asleep without setting an alarm. ‘Breakfast is a joke anyways.’ He thinks to himself, grabbing his blazer and keys running out of his apartment. 

His workload today was even worse than the days prior. Mountains of papers covering his desk that he had to finish before the end of the day. He reaches for his phone in his back right pocket only to realize it wasn’t there. His eyes widened as he began to pat himself down. He lets out a bitter laugh running his fingers through his hair. “Fantastic,” He mutters to himself knowing he had no way of contacting Nanami to let him know he would have to work over unlike what he had promised. 

3:50 pm. 

Higuruma had made a decent dent on the paperwork that had landed on his desk. He bites the end of his pen reading the current document on a client that had been accused of her brother’s murder. He felt like there wasn’t a point to this knowing the system, but who else were these people supposed to rely on. His stomach churns at the thought of going in front of the judge again with a doomed case to prove someone’s innocence. He bites down on the pen harder.

Click.

A crack formed causing the pen’s ink to spray across his cheek and mouth. He groans loudly, taking a tissue wiping the ink from his lips. He clenches his fist crumpling the tissue before tossing it into the bin beside him. 

6:30 pm.

Higuruma was officially thirty minutes over. He glances at the clock then back at the last stack of paper on his desk. He sits in silence for a moment, accidentally focusing too much on his breathing. ‘I could finish it in a half an hour.’ He ponders for a minute. 

Skrrt

He pushes away from his desk, pushing himself out of his chair. He takes the stack of papers in his hand, sliding it into a folder next to him, deciding to leave it. 

He passes by his colleague’s offices who had decided to work over on the holiday.

It’s my first White Day I actually care about. I’m not going to spend it away in my office. I already had a shit day, I do not care to make it worse. 

He marches out of the firm with his eyes on the prize, that same flower shop. 

Minutes later he arrived, swinging the doors open, noticing the number of new flowers since the day before. 

Content that he finally found flowers to return the favor to Nanami, he walks out of the door holding the bouquet close to him. 

Drip. 

A sudden wetness kisses his nose. His head tilted towards the sky, noticing the formation of dark clouds surrounding him. 

‘What a day to run late and forget my umbrella as well.’ 

He lunges down the street as raindrops began to patter against his skin and the concrete below him. The rain began to fall faster as well as his steps against the pavement. ‘Shit shit shit.’ He curses to himself as the wind begins to pick up, water splashing into his eyes obstructing his vision. 

“Hiromi.” A familiar voice to Higuruma calls out, barely audible over the sound of the rain now pouring down against him. He turns towards the voice, nearly blinded from the rain. 

Suddenly the rain stops. 

Higuruma felt warm hands against his cold damp face, wiping away the water from his eyes. “Where’s your umbrella?”

His eyes flutter open, and is greeted by a salaryman’s concerned expression. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted as his free hand held Higuruma's cheek while the other held the umbrella above them.

“Bad morning,” Higuruma responded with a sheepish smile subconsciously leaning into his warm palm. The smell of fresh bread filled his olfactory, glancing down noticing a fresh bundle under Nanami’s arm. He scoffs softly, “Couldn’t help yourself?”

Nanami scoffs, shaking his head, “I have to treat myself after working overtime too.” He smirks now looking into Higuruma’s gaze. His palm travels from his cheek to his shoulder. 

Higuruma sighs softly, readjusting his grasp on the bouquet he was holding. “You worked over today?” He questioned further, raising an eyebrow. 

“Did you receive my message?”

“I forgot my phone…”

Nanami lets out a soft chuckle, “You’re a mess, what’s with the flowers?” He motions his hand towards the soggy white tulips and roses accented with blue hydrangeas and baby’s breath. 

Laughing awkwardly looking down at the slumped flowers. He looks up at the blonde man cheesing cheekily, “Happy White Day.” 

Nanami folds his umbrella as Higuruma fumbles with his keys, the bouquet still in hand. “You know, we haven’t had a homemade meal together in a few weeks.” Nanami hints, shaking his umbrella to the side. 

Opening the door, Higuruma scoffs softly at the idea. “So you can take over the kitchen again? Leaving me to watch?” He responds teasingly, stepping onto the doormat, wiping his feet before kicking his shoes to the side. 

Nanami rolls his eyes following Higuruma’s lead. He squats fiddling with the laces of his loafers, “I promise I will let you… assist me.” Nanami gulped shuttering at the thought of the concoction his significant other could come up with in the kitchen. The poor flavor pairings, the wrong spices put together… undercooked meat. 

Higuruma hums, delicately setting his keys in the dish, spinning on the balls of his heels, now looking down at the blond salaryman. “So, you won’t kick me out of my own kitchen this time?” His lips form a cocky smirk watching him push off his shoe. 

“I think I’ll have to.” He mutters, lifting himself up from his squatted position, now towering over the wet lawyer. “You should dry off before you ruin the wet ingredients if we are going to make something, however.” He states, motioning to Higuruma’s dripping wet attire that was slowly making a small puddle underneath his feet. 

Grumbling, he steps away from Nanami, turning on the lights as he walks down the hallway towards his bedroom. 

Nanami covers his mouth, chuckling to himself laying his umbrella against the wall next to his loafers. Making his way towards the kitchen deciding to lean against the counter with his arms folded over his chest, waiting for the lawyers return. 

Higuruma comes out of the hallway now dressed in a more casual look, a dark grey crew neck and lighter grey sweatpants. He stretches his arm towards Nanami holding the bouquet in his hand. “This is yours, you know?” He states with a sly smile. 

Nanami hums glancing down at the selection of flowers in his grasp, then towards the dried flowers from Valentine’s Day in the vase on the round table behind Higuruma. He hums softly, pressing his finger against his chin, “I think they’d pair well with the dried up bouquet I brought you a month ago.”

Higuruma cocks an eyebrow, turning his head towards the table. “Oversaturated flowers paired with wilting flowers?” He questions stepping closer to the table.  “Yin yang, balance.”

Facing away from Nanami, Higuruma felt the corners of his lips twitching upwards as he slipped the drenched flowers next to the dehydrated flowers. “Is that what we represent here then, Kento?”

Nanami hums pushing himself off of the counter. “It could be symbolized for multiple things in your life.” He responds, opening the pantry. 

He falls silent for a moment, turning back watching Nanami opening his cabinets. ‘My work life balance needs work.’ He thought to himself as he moved further into his kitchen, bending over for another cabinet. “What are we making?” 

Nanami places bags of flour, sugar, and walnuts onto the counter. “Those bananas are going bad over there.” He points out, motioning towards the bruising fruits hanging on the banana hanger. “How do you feel about banana bread?”

“I may have neglected… right banana bread.” He states picking himself up leaning towards the bundle of bananas before laying them next to the bag of flour. 

Nanami’s lips twitched into a faint smile as Higuruma attempted to come up with an excuse. He reaches for his shoulder, “You know, it makes good banana bread.” He reassures, his tone soft and considerate. Gently squeezing his shoulder, “You’ve been overworking again, Hiromi.”

Higuruma exhales softly, “I know, I apologize.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?”

He twists his neck to face Nanami, “Well, I-“ He starts barely above a whisper, refusing to make eye contact with him. 

His smile drops into a small frown. 

“I feel like I haven’t been the most ideal person-“

“Hiromi.” Nanami interrupts placing his index and thumb against Higuruma’s chin, turning his face to meet his. 

Nanami’s gaze is intense while Higuruma’s resembles a wet stray cat that was left out on the street. “I don’t want an ideal person in my life if that person isn’t you.” He stated, his tone full of finality. 

Letting out a sigh, Higuruma nods, pulling away from Nanami. “Banana bread, hmm?” He breathed his lips twitching upwards as he turned to a cabinet. 

Nanami watches him squat down, opening a cabinet. “I’m serious-“ He cuts himself off, catching his faint smile. “Yes, banana bread. I need a bread pan.” He continues making his way towards the refrigerator. 

They fall into a comfortable silence other than the sound of pans shuffling around within the cabinet.

CRASH BANG

Nanami whips his head around, looking behind him from. “Hiromi, what are you-” He starts with a carton of eggs and sour cream in each hand. 

Higuruma had a sauce pan in his hand and a rolling pin in the other. “Um, helping?” He smiles sheepishly. There were cookie sheets and pots of all sizes scattered across the floor, surrounding the lawyer. 

Nanami hides a smile behind the carton of eggs he was holding, “The rolling pin isn’t necessary.” He responds, placing the sour cream and eggs on the counter. Making his way over to Higuruma, he takes the wooden roller away from Higuruma, sitting it on the counter above him. “The sauce pan isn’t either.”

Higuruma chuckles, reaching back into the cabinet, “Here it is.” He pulls out the loaf pan, extending his arm out to Nanami. 

Nanami takes the pan, placing it on the counter next to the rolling pin. He takes Higuruma’s hand, pulling him up to his feet. “Full of bad luck today?” He smirks down at the lawyer. 

“Relatively, however, this may be an everyday occurrence.” He murmurs, leaning against the salaryman’s shoulder facing the ingredients laid out. Nanami lets out a small chuckle snaking his arm against his waist. 

“Add the walnuts as you carefully mix the- okay, not like that.” Nanami stammers watching Higuruma dump the whole bag of walnuts into the bowl of ingredients. Higuruma stirs the concoction vigorously, putting in all his strength to fold the dough. 

“I think- Hiromi-“ 

The whisk being used flings across the kitchen, slapping the backsplash behind the stove splattering wet ingredients and loose walnuts everywhere. 

“Hmm, maybe you’d be better at smashing the bananas?” Nanami smiles sheepishly, turning to look at the damage, thanking God that it didn’t hit him. 

Higuruma takes the potato masher moving to his next victim, the mixing bowl with bruised unpeeled bananas. He raises the masher above his head as he would a gavel and begins to beat the bananas as if they chimed guilty in his ear after a retrial. 

Nanami's eyes were practically popping out of his head, he watched in awe with the amount of force he was putting into mashing the bananas. ‘How that bowl isn’t breaking is beyond me.’ 

“You don’t want glass with your bananas, Hiromi.” Nanami teases, his voice barely above a whisper. He wraps his fingers around his wrist bringing him back to reality. 

Higuruma slows his movements, noticing that the bananas were well smashed. He lets out a long exhale, “Is it supposed to look like a paste?” 

“Well- no, but it’ll be fine.” Nanami responds by taking the bowl away from him. Higuruma sighs watching as Nanami pours the mixture into the bowl filled with the rest of the ingredients. “Come here.” Nanami states grabbing a multicolored silicone spatula. 

Higuruma stands next to him, turning his head to look up at him. “No, you’re helping.” Nanami states taking Higuruma by the shoulders and placing him in front of him and the bowl. He then places the spatula in the concoction before taking Higuruma’s hand in his, guiding it towards the spatula. Now grasping the spatula, Nanami holds the back of his hand guiding his movements. “This is called folding.” He states laying his head against his shoulder, hooking his chin against him. 

“Folding?” Higuruma questions matching Nanami’s movements, observing the ingredients slowly combine. “Ever had dense bread?” He murmurs against his shoulder. 

Higuruma shutters as the vibrations from Nanami’s voice travels through his frame, creating goosebumps. “I can’t say I have.” He responds lowly as his movements begin to slow.

 “An unexpected privilege you have.” 

As the desert bakes in the oven, they both sit together on the same leather couch Higuruma fell asleep on the night prior. Higuruma lays across Nanami’s lap looking up at him, watching him scroll through his phone. “Anything interesting?” 

“Nothing more interesting than you, if that’s what you’re implying.” Nanami quips teasingly, flipping his phone that displayed endless emails before shutting off his phone. Laying it on top of the armrest he uses his unused hand, threading his fingers through Higuruma’s, now dry and coarse, hair. 

Higuruma closes his eyes, “You have such a way with your hands.” He murmurs as Nanami’s fingertips massaged his scalp. 

Letting him massage his scalp for a moment, Higuruma remembered the tiny black bag on the end table. He lets out a hum full of pleasure, “There’s something for you on the end table.” 

Nanami perks his head up, looking away from the man melting into his touch. Continuing to weave his fingers through Higuruma’s hair, he reaches for the small black bag. “Another gift, hmm?” 

“Mmmmm.”

Nanami felt his lips stretch slightly as his hand slipped through the bag. His hand made contact with a cold dome-like object. Sliding his hand out of the bag, now gawking at the snow globe. A beach scenery with yellow glitter for sand. Two palm trees and two white lounge chairs. Tilting the globe to the side, tiny plastic seashell shaped objects fell with the yellow sand. “Oh Hiromi…” He let out a soft whisper as his lips stretched into a full toothy grin. 

One eye fluttered open, gazing at Nanami’s pure mesmerized expression upon his eyes and lips. “You always enjoy the small things, hmm?” 

Nanami’s focus shifted to Higuruma, “From time to time, but anything from you isn’t a small thing.” 

He paused. Higuruma’s doubts finally fell silent to his sentiment. The everlasting thoughts of not being good enough for him ceased. Their gazes towards one another were filled with pure adoration. “You really think that?” He breathed, forgetting how to breathe during the brief silence they shared. 

Nanami simply nods, his index tracing from Higuruma’s hairline down to his cheek. “Why wouldn’t I think that?” He murmurs now cupping his cheek in his palm. 

Higuruma’s face lit up with a warm smile suddenly, “Is that a rhetorical question?” He chuckles, his smile widening so much the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes deepened. 

“It can be.” Nanami responds as he notices the slight scrunch in Higuruma’s nose from his beaming smile. Falling into another comfortable silence, observing each other’s expressions carefully, Nanami slowly leans down in unison as Higuruma gently lifts his head towards him, his palms reaching to cup both of Nanami’s sunken cheeks. Their eyes fluttered closed as they felt each other’s breath against their lips. 

Higuruma’s heart pounded against his chest. ‘Did I brush my teeth this morning? Oh god, I haven’t kissed him in days. What if I forgot how- oh my god.’ 

Ding. 

The timer on the oven filled their ears, eyes shooting wide open. Nanami flashed a sheepish smile pulling back from Higuruma. Slightly disappointed, Higuruma shifts from his lap flashing back a small smile. 

“You have the luck of a black cat.” 

Higuruma grumbled softly as they both rose to their feet, moving through the doorway towards the kitchen. “I wouldn’t call it bad luck, more so inconvenient timing.” He muttered making his way towards the oven. 

Placing the loaf pan on the counter, Nanami takes a toothpick and sticks it in the center. “This is usually done with cakes, but because it had a more liquidy base it’s best to test than have a mess.” He explains pulling out the toothpick. “No residue means it’s done, and we’re in luck.” He adds showing Higuruma the toothpick. 

Higuruma’s lips twitch upwards as Nanami continues to explain his baking process. “I see.” He couldn’t help but to find it endearing at how passionate Nanami was when it came to baking and cooking, it was one of his favorite quirks about him. How precise he was when it came to measuring, how he would take the time to walk him through his procedure… how he cared enough to share his recipes. 

He was lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Nanami was staring back at him in silence. He blinks as his gaze shifts from Nanami’s hazel eyes to his parted lips, as if he were about to speak. 

Higuruma sees this as an opening, lifting his hands to the collar of the blue shirt the salaryman was wearing. His fingers curled, grasping the collar in his palms pulling him towards him, closing the gap in between them. 

Nanami lets out a small gasp from the quick movement from the lawyer. Before he knew it, his body went into autopilot, slightly leaning over and following Higuruma’s movements. 

Their gazes met for the last time before they fluttered closed in unison. Connecting their lips, Nanami lets out a contented sigh, his warmth breath spreading across their lips. 

Despite the pouring rain outside, to them it felt like a warm summer day surrounding them at that moment. Buzzing bees and flowers blooming around them behind their eyes as they shared their affection through a short and sweet kiss. 

Higuruma pulls away, his lips tingling from the warmth they had shared. They both inhaled together, their eyes half lidded eying one another once more. 

“I needed that.” Higuruma’s voice was barely above a whisper, almost breathless from just a brief kiss. 

The corner of Nanami’s lips twist up into a smirk, “I can tell, you’ve never been the one to make the first move.” He teases, placing his hands on the lawyer’s shoulders. 

Higuruma chuckles softly, continuing to hold Nanami’s cheeks. “Hmm, it’s like you allowing me to bake for once may have encouraged me…” He smirks back, his head rolling back to face the loaf on the counter. 

“Shall we try it?” 

“Why wouldn’t we? We made it after all.”

“You made it.”

Footnotes: Valentine's Day flashback inspiration and credit.

[ratiolaws]

Smudged Ink

Nanami Kento x Shoko Ieiri

Valentine’s Day Post-Canon // Cross-Posted on AO3

Synopsis: It has been two months since Sukuna has been defeated. Shoko has lost nearly everyone important in her life, one of these sorcerers more important than the others.

Content: SFW, angst, storytelling through flashbacks, implied alcohol abuse, Utahime Iori mentions, obvious predetermined relationships. Contains subtle manga spoilers!

Pushing her way through her front door she is greeted by her dim lit apartment, the only light coming from the sunset behind her. Hooking her keys on a lonely rack she allows the door behind her to latch shut. The orange glow now fading leaving her in a dim room lit by the few windows. She kicks off her shoes, slipping her white coat off of her shoulders letting out a deep exhale.

February 14th.

She had dreaded this day; she had initially dreaded Christmas. However, on Christmas, she had worse issues to deal with. Healing, stitching, and watching peers and students go onto that battlefield—few did not return. These people she had known for years, students she had become acquainted with. The memory of stitching up Yuta Okkotsu still haunts her, the memory of Satoru Gojo haunts her, but nothing haunts her as much as the boxes in the corner of her living room rotting away.

“Shokoooo, open the door!” Utahime chirps from the outside. Her hands were occupied with a medium sized box and a wagon behind her filled with a compilation of varying sizes of boxes. She waits for a moment, without an answer she sighs, placing the box in her arm on the concrete padding under her feet. She takes the door knob into her hand and twists, opening the door.

“Shokoooo!” She calls out in a singsong tone as she pulls the wagon inside. The lights were off and eerily quiet for Shoko’s apartment. Utahime’s smile falters knowingly as she sits the wagon to the side before also dragging the medium sized box from outside the door.

“Shoko.” She calls out again in a solemn manner walking around her complex through the kitchen. She notices the empty bottles of liquor on the counters. Heavy drinking isn't anything out of the ordinary of Shoko, but leaving out empty bottles was in Utahime’s eyes.

Utahime makes her way towards Shoko’s bedroom, standing behind the door. She inhales steadily, raising her fist before knocking. “Shoko.” She states, her tone like a warm comforting hug for Shoko.

On the other side of the door, Shoko lays in her bed facing the ceiling. She knew why Utahime was here, it was after the holidays. Weeks have gone by, it was a new year which brings change and new beginnings; However, today for Shoko, would bring back memories. “Utahime.” She states in the same tone, but weaker.

“I know you don't want to do this today, or any day, but it's better to rip off the bandaid now, right?” Utahime responds slowly, opening the door.

Shoko turns her head towards the cracked door, “Yeah,” She responds neutrally as she sits up in her bed. “I apologize for not answering the door.”

Utahime smiles, “You left it unlocked, it's okay.”

Shoko shakes her head touching her forehead with her fingertips feeling the inevitable headache buildup in her temples. She swings her legs over the edge of her bed, pushing herself up.

Once they finish placing the boxes in the corner of the living room, Shoko looks over at Utahime. “Thank you… for everything.” Her voice begins to trail off as her gaze goes back towards the boxes.

Utahime lays her head against Shoko’s shoulders comfortingly, “Don't thank me, I'll always be here to support you through this.” She lifts her head, replacing it with her hand, turning Shoko so she would face her. “Please don't hesitate to reach out to me.”

Shoko swallows thickly before nodding, “Are you free for the rest of the day?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Utahime smiles, rubbing her shoulder gently, “Of course.”

She had begun to despise these holidays, Halloween, Christmas Eve and the day of. It churns her stomach into knots thinking of the events that had occurred within the last year. Valentine's day was a holiday that had nothing significant holding her detest besides the dread she would be spending it alone for the first time in a long time.

She walks through the cold rooms of her apartment, now without any surprise appearances from the person she cherished enough to let in. She reminisced about a time before her life changed, again.

Shoko wakes up to the sound of her front door unlocking and opening. She groans softly, swinging her body off of her bed. She stammers to her bedroom door, opening it hesitantly only to be greeted by him already at her bedroom door. Her eyes widened, “[Redacted], you're here early.” She gasps taking a step back looking at his well groomed appearance compared to her pajamas and bed head.

He hums, “Actually, this is around the time I usually get here. You slept in late.” He states leaning against her door frame with a small smirk on his lips. “Late shift?”

Shoko groaned looking at her alarm clock, “Yes, of course, Gojo sent a couple of the students to this abandoned warehouse and I had the pleasure to stitch Inumaki in the middle of the night.” She chuckles bitterly at the fresh memory taking a moment to yawn.

His small smirk twisted into a smile, “It’s only noon, you can go back to bed if you need it. We have all day.” He reassures pushing himself off of the door frame as he reaches with his hand to tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear.

Shoko gently leans into his touch involuntarily, “No, it's okay we should celebrate. Valentine’s Day only comes around once a year, you know?” She smiles tilting her head to face him.

The back of his hand lays against her cheek. He hums softly, “Are you sure?” He asks, his voice gentle as his palm turns to cup her cheek.

Shoko closed her eyes as she nodded against his palm. “I’m sure.” She reassures, “Let me freshen up?”

He chuckles softly, “We can stay in this year, spend time together if you would like.” He slowly pulls his hand away, stepping away from the door frame, allowing some privacy.

Shoko nods again, “I would like that.” She agrees, grabbing the door, moving the door towards its hinges.

Once the door is shut, he moves on the other side, away from the door.

Shoko finishes getting dressed in casual attire, much better than pajamas, she convinces herself before stepping out of her room. She steps into the bathroom quickly brushing her teeth before noticing a small piece of paper, small enough to be a post-it note.

Holding the toothbrush in between her teeth she picks up the piece of paper in between her index and thumb, flipping it over. She noticed there was writing.

“Be my Valentine even as you brush your teeth?”

She scoffs under her breath at the cheesiness and inconvenient placement as she sits the note to the side away from the sink. She lets out a small laugh as she continues to brush her teeth, unable to stop smiling making the process easier.

The door cracks open slowly, “That didn't sound like a no.”

Shoko rolls her eyes, “In the bathroom?” She asks with a mouth full of toothpaste.

He shrugs, opening the door, “Well, it was the first place you went to this ‘morning’.” He responds, half sarcastically as he walks through the door, standing behind her.

She watches his reflection in the mirror as she spits out the excess toothpaste. “Well, the answer is yes, and it always will be yes.” She responds in the same tone with less genuine sarcasm. She then begins to rinse off her toothbrush.

He smiles, bending down lowly as he wraps his arms around her torso. Laying his head against her shoulder, he murmurs, “I knew that.”

Vibrations from his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She picks up the note again, studying his handwriting.

Before she knew it, he took a picture in the mirror.

Trailing towards her living room blindly she found herself in front of these boxes. Staring blankly at the cardboard boxes labeled, "Shoko," but these weren't her possessions. These were his that just so happened to connect back to her.

A burning sensation within her nostrils began to sting as she continued to look over these boxes.

"Shoko," was not written in his handwriting. it was Utahime's doing, she had brought them over sometime after New Years. Shoko could not bear to step foot into his home knowing he wouldn't have been there.

She hasn't cried since that night, and hasn't known the feeling since. No time to mourn over him after losing so many more times since that day.

The Culling Games played as a huge distraction for Shoko and so did Shinjuku. However, now? The distractions are limited, especially once she's off the clock.

Utahime visits occasionally from Kyoto, even a surprise visit from her were rare nowadays.

Shoko had refused to step foot into her living room for the last month since these boxes arrived here. They have not moved since. She knew she would have to go through them one day, but… that would be reopening a wound she continues to wrap with gauze without alcohol.

Suddenly a box, no bigger than a shoe box, catches her eye.

She raises her hand cautiously, almost as if it were involuntary instincts. Laying her hand against the cardboard, trailing her finger tips against the tapped seal.

Biting the inside of her cheek as the conflicting voices in her mind tell her to walk away and open that specific box simultaneously. Inhaling deeply, feeling the stinging sensation grow within her nose, she slowly peels the tape back.

She throws the tape to the side, refusing to look away from this specific box. raising her hands to the cardboard flaps, she hesitates, feeling her heart drop in the process. Her mouth runs dry. Suddenly forgetting how to breathe for a moment.

She finally takes a deep breath closing her eyes as she opens the box.

She freezes, eyes closed, her hands in the box. thick papers graze across her finger tips. Slowly opening her eyes she is greeted with multicolored envelopes.

That foreign stinging sensation had finally met her eyes as they widened in shock. She swallows thickly, her previously dry mouth watering with a thick substance. She grabs a light blue envelope, "Shoko 10th Anniversary," written on the back. A small breath escapes her lips as she lays it to the side. Another light blue envelope, "7th." and another, "5th."

She inhales shakily, knowing that their fifth year was approaching in a few months. Laying it to the side away from the others she then takes out a purple envelope, "29th birthday." she scoffs softly as a tear finally strolls down her cheek.

He had just barely missed her birthday, which he had already planned out.

She blinks away the tears swallowing back sobs as she lays it to the side with the anniversary envelope. reaching back in she grabs the only pink envelope in the mix of the remaining greens, yellows, and whites.

Valentine’s Day 2019.

Shoko holds this envelope between her index fingers and thumbs as she slowly backs into her couch, falling backwards. She collapses against the cushioning staring at the seal.

She sniffs, slowly peeling the seal back, careful to not damage the envelope preserving the authenticity and memory of him.

Slowly taking the card out of the envelope revealed a homemade card. Beige cardstock paper folded delicately and evenly. Laying the envelope next to her. She pauses for a moment, looking up towards her ceiling inhaling deeply.

Finally tilting her head back down, focusing on the card in between her fingers.

Unfolding it gingerly revealed a written note and two photos taped below. Her lips quivered involuntarily looking at the photos, recognizing them from their previous, and final, Valentine’s and White Day.

Gliding her index finger across the photos tears began to fill her eyes once more. The heat of the tears were immediate and clouded her vision forcing her to blink them away. Finally, bringing herself to read the letter.

Shoko,

All those years ago, if someone would have told me I had fallen in love with my senior after returning to jujutsu sorcery, I would've asked "I came back?"

I never feel like I am wasting a second of my life around you, whether that's a surprise visit to your apartment or you stitching me up from a long mission away from you. Just sitting in complete silence with you feels fulfilling.

I will always find you even in the most mundane moments of my day. holding your hand until death, and once that day may come, I will hold you with my spare, and I promise I will find you again.

I love you,

Kento.

Shoko's hands tremble as she reads the letter. Tears already staining her cheeks as she finally lets out a sob deep from inside of her, one she's been holding back for the last few months. She folds the letter laying it on top of the envelope before burying her face into her hands.

Multiple thoughts simultaneously began to swirl in her head. Only one coherent thought lingers through her overwhelming mind, "I wish you were here… you corny… corny man.”

Shoko sat in a bar stool, a front row seat to witness her dinner being made, Tonkatsu, a classic comfort dish.

Kento stood in front of her, preparing their bowls with beds of rice. “I apologize that we couldn't celebrate yesterday.” He states, turning to his stove flipping the burner off.

Her expression softens as he mentions the day prior, Christmas Eve. She props her arm on the counter, laying her head against her palm. “It's not your fault, you weren't the one who chose the date.” She responds as he reaches for a pair of tongs.

He shrugs, scooping the now boiled eggs out of the boiling water with the pair of tongs. “It’s still inconvenient,” He turns back to her, placing the eggs next to the bowl of rice, allowing them to cool for a moment.

Shoko scoffs under her breath, smiling slightly despite the bitterness from the day prior still affecting her, “Everything about Jujutsu Society inconveniences you in some way.” She states as he began to peel the shelling from the boiled egg. In the back of her mind she was hurting from their very much expected encounter from an old friend the day prior.

Kento takes his focus away from the egg he was peeling and shifts it back to her. His gaze was intense, but warm at the same time to Shoko. Smiling back at her he states barely above a whisper, “Not everything.”

As the minutes pass, she finally takes a deep breath pulling her hands away from her face. Wiping her palms on her denim pants before she takes the letter and places it back inside the envelope delicately. She stands, moving away from her couch with the letter in hand.

Shuffling her way into her kitchen sniffling softly she lays the envelope on the marbled counter. She stares at it for a moment as an idea slowly forms. Smiling weakly, turning to a frame with a photo of them from the last Christmas they celebrated together that sits next to a bread basket and a bottle of red wine. She turns the frame over, popping out the back and slowly removing the photo.

She then turns to the envelope, taking out the letter gently. Once in her hand, she sits the envelope down unfolding the letter facing the writing and the small polaroids from their last Valentine's Day. Folding the letter the opposite way so that the writing is now shown she places it towards the bottom of the frame, which is a little smaller than the size of the frame. Taking the original photo in her hands, she places it back into the frame as well as the velvet backing.

She sets the frame back to its original position, breaking into a bittersweet smile. She takes a step back taking in the value it holds to her. It wouldn’t be much to anyone else, but to her it was everything.

Shoko knew a day would come when she would have to move on and heal, but that day was not today, it may not be tomorrow, or a year from now. For now, she will continue to hold these memories close to her. Reminding herself occasionally that she is also not alone and does not need to wallow in her own thoughts.

Suddenly, she reaches into her back pocket. Pulling out her phone, immediately pressing on a very familiar contact.

“Are you free?”

Footnotes:

This was my first fic I’ve written in over a year of writers block and my first jujutsu kaisen related fic haha. I also decided I didn’t really care for the AO3 system after posting this a month ago. In addition, I also decided to post fics away from my main account on twitter.

If there are issues with formatting, or it is odd in general, blame it on the fact that I’m still learning Tumblr mechanics. Anyways, thank you for reading !!