Chapter Text
Gojo’s hands feel numbingly cold, his confidence wavering.
There he is, back again, at the place so familiar but so far from what he used to remember.
‘Library, evening after work, just like back when we’re in law school.’
In a way, Haibara’s message on his best friend’s screen did make him smile, finding the comfort in knowing the man he has always loved is still the same person after all this time— how this Nanami he got to see is the same Nanami he didn’t get to see back then.
Gojo pushes past the door of their law school’s library, the recognisable smell of old papers and wooden shelves welcoming him back like a childhood home.
He remembers how he used to follow Nanami around like a puppy and into the library, not realising how the quiet and reserved new kid who seemed tired of his annoying antics yet still put up with him at the same time held such a tight grip on his attention. Back then he didn’t know why he or Nanami did what they did, and he just kept telling himself it was just his effort to study his enemy.
God knows he was lying to himself all this time.
Many things seem to change— the new face replacing the old librarian who was always there to tell him to quiet down back then, the row of latest computers instead of carrel desks where students used to sit and write down their work, the new paint on top of the old creamy wall— but one thing also remains the same.
His feelings for Nanami.
Gojo exhales the trembling breath, shaking his head with a strained smile when the student library assistant asks if he needs any help, those eyes looking at him like he is lost or out of place.
“He knows where he’s going, leave him be.”
Scratch that— two things remain the same.
He lets out a shaky chuckle when the old woman speaks— it’s her.
“Thought you wouldn’t come, Mr Gojo,” she says, a knowing smirk on his face and Gojo asks if she still remembers him. The head librarian rolls her eyes, “of course I do, you left quite an impression. I also remember telling you not to bother him.”
Gojo nods, his involuntarily emotional smile creeping on his face before he manages to stop himself.
But his comfort is short-lived, his face falling when he remembers why he is here.
And she seems to catch on, “he’s here, too.”
The old lady nods at him when Gojo mumbles ‘thank you’ quietly, his legs starting moving again and his eyes searching.l before he stops completely, his feet are heavy like a lead that grounds him down and rooted to the spot when he sees the sight he used to know.
Used to.
What if Nanami doesn’t want to even have anything to do with him anymore?
What if Nanami has moved on?
What if he has become someone Nanami no longer wants around?
And to be completely fair, he deserves it, doesn’t he?
Gojo is curious if Nanami ever thinks of him sometimes, ever misses him sometimes— because he does, so fucking much he doesn’t have time to think about anything else. His mind is occupied by the thought of hurting the person he loves and haunted by that tear-streaked face— and how he thinks about calling Nanami just one more time when he has one too many drinks.
And what if the answer to that is no?
Gojo is just so afraid, and he has never been afraid of anything.
Still— he decides to bite the bullet and finally fucking do it because there is no running away this anymore and he will not let Nanami go without never getting to tell him, because Nanami deserves to know how he has always been loved, even when Gojo himself didn’t realise it either.
If he can’t be brave for himself, at least he has to try to be brave for Nanami.
His heart pounds in his chest as he walks through the familiar halls, memories still flooding back. He approaches the seats where they used to sit quietly— Nanami sitting there, lost in thought, a book in his hands.
“Ken– Nanami,” Gojo corrects himself as he calls out softly, his voice trembling.
It’s painful to watch how Nanami’s relaxed body seems to stiffen immediately at the sound of his own voice. He turns slowly, those beautiful hazel eyes that held so much warmth now cold and guarded.
Gojo’s heart sinks.
“Why are you here?”
His chest tightens into a knot when his eyes fully see how Nanami looks. He is like a ghost of the man he used to be, his once-sharp features now hollowed out— his cheekbones more pronounced as if time and hurt carved away the fullness of his face. The golden warmth of his skin dims, replaced by a pallor that makes him look perpetually tired. Dark circles hung under his eyes like bruises, betraying sleepless nights and restless thoughts that no amount of resolve could hide.
In some way, Gojo feels the way Nanami looks is mirroring his own.
His eyes travel across that body he once touched and held in his arm— Nanami’s shirt, always pristine and perfectly fitted, now seems a little loose, the fabric hanging off his frame in subtle but telling ways. He moves with a stiffness that isn’t from physical strain but emotional weight, like carrying a burden too heavy for even him to bear.
But it was his eyes that hurt Gojo the most.
The quiet determination that once burned in those honey-coloured depths dulls into something resigned, something distant. They rarely meet his gaze now, reddening and fixed on the floor or somewhere far away past his head, as though Nanami is retreating into himself to avoid the world— or perhaps to shield himself from the ache of seeing him.
Gojo wants to scream at himself— at the fact that he makes Nanami feel this way.
“What do you want, Gojo?”
“Just,” Gojo licks his lips, his throat painfully drying up when Nanami starts to get up and collect his things, “to talk.”
And like two same poles of magnets, the moment Gojo moves closer, Nanami moves away.
Nanami’s back is turnt to him, it’s impossible to read his expression but Gojo could hear the resignation in his voice, “I don’t want to hear it. You’ve said enough.”
“Please.”
The word escapes his lips before he could even realise and even Gojo himself is shocked because he knows he never says it— he never needs to say it, because he never gives a damn if anyone would walk away from him.
But that’s not the case with Nanami.
And it seems to shock the man in front of him too.
Nanami pauses for a moment then shakes his head, his hand works faster and trembles. And when he turns to leave— Gojo’s heart clenches with desperation. Without thinking, he rushes forward and wraps his arms around Nanami from behind, burying his face into the man’s neck.
“You don’t need to say anything,” Gojo whispers, his voice breaking, “just lis— listen is enough. ”
The man in his arms tries to pull away, but Gojo’s grip tightens, “let go of me, Gojo.”
He shakes his head, the sob escaping his throat, “please don’t walk away from me, Kento.”
Nanami lets out a laboured breath, like he’s trying to hold himself together, to hold the door he did let him in close, making sure he won’t make the same mistake again because of how it has hurt him before.
And maybe that is it, that Nanami is trying.
And Gojo knows he has to try, too.
“I am sorry.”
He says it— he finally manages to say one of the things that everyone including himself knows how difficult it is to say. But he knows he owes this to Nanami, for the things he put him through.
The thing is, Gojo is not even worried if Nanami is not going to take him back— like if they will ever get to be together like in those rom-com films he and Nanami watched together a few months ago when things were good. He doesn’t even dare wish Nanami will even forgive him for what he has done.
The only thing Gojo wishes right now is to let Nanami know that he is sorry, that he finally realises how awful and mean and blind he has always been this entire time and that he just hopes that Nanami will someday be able to recover from all the pains he has caused from his own stupidity and wrongdoings and how Nanami has always—
How Nanami has always had his heart.
So Gojo is just going to say it like he means it.
Because he fucking means it.
“I am sorry for everything I have put you through. For never taking your feelings into consideration. For never thinking before I speak. For being obnoxiously annoying and arrogant and horrible. For being so stupid and such a coward that I never knew my own feelings, how you—”
Nanami’s voice breaks, those hands weakly trying to loosen his grip, “I said I don’t want to—”
“How you mean to me,” Gojo chokes on his own tears, continuing and tightening his grip, shaking his head violently, “for not realising that I—”
“Goj— ”
“I love you.”
There he said it.
The words hang in the air, heavy like his feelings, and the sob tears through the man he loves, “no…” Nanami whimpers, both hands covering his face as he shakes his head, “you don’t— you don’t get to say that. Not...anymore."
No, Nanami is right— he doesn’t get to do this, he doesn’t deserve it.
Gojo can’t stop himself when he cries into his neck, nodding to Nanami’s words in agreement and holding him so close, afraid Nanami would disappear again the moment he lets go. And the dam breaks— he knows he can’t, no, won’t take back his own words, because Nanami needs to know.
“I always told myself I have to do my best, and I never knew why,” he murmurs, thinking about all these years when he always pushes himself to be on top, “but when you walked away that day, I– I finally knew.”
Nanami’s hands start trying to loosen his grip again, and Gojo knows he doesn’t have much time left.
“You’re the reason I wanna be better— to, god, to fucking deserve to be standing next to you,” stuttering, his heart breaks each second Nanami manages to slowly loosen each of his fingers on him, “I don’t fucking care about winning, never did, because it felt so empty without you to share it with, and I said what I said that day— in the court—”
The hand on his tightens, Nanami sniffles, “stop ta—”
“No, please,” Gojo begs, nuzzling into the warmth of the man in arms he misses so much, “please— I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you, and I knew I can’t, god, Kento, trust me I know I can’t take back what I did, and I don’t expect you to believe or forgive me. I just need to tell you I know now that I never think before I do or say things, and it costs me losing you to realise this about myself. That day, I just thought that if I said what you told me— you would know you have always been the centre of my attention, my– my everything.”
His own eyes well up with tears to the point that he can’t see properly anymore and Gojo feels the heat on his face from all the emotions he is not familiar with, all the happiness when he thinks about what they had, all the fears, regrets and angers when he thinks about how he has ruined them, but there is no hiding for all those feelings— not anymore.
Nanami finally breaks free from him, and Gojo feels his own heart break when he gets his last words out and Nanami’s warmth leaves him.
“It has always been you.”
“It has always been you.”
Nanami stands frozen in place as the echo of Gojo’s words hangs heavily in the air.
It has always been you.
His breath catches in his throat, choking him, and for a moment, all he can hear is the thunderous pounding of his own heart. The words replay in his mind, breaking through the armor he’s carefully built around himself after he walked away from everything, leaving him exposed to the whirlwind of emotions he has tried so hard to suppress from that day.
He hates how much those words hurt— not because they were untrue, but because they were everything he had wanted to hear, long before now. And they were spoken too late, after too much damage had been done, after too many sleepless nights spent wondering if he was nothing more than a fleeting thought to Gojo.
The realisation that Gojo has always loved him, too, is too much to bear.
Gojo’s arms are no longer around him, but Nanami still feels their ghostly warmth. He should walk away. He needs to walk away because god knows if Gojo will hurt him again. But his feet remain planted, his entire body trembling as the anger, the pain, and the love he still feels for Gojo war inside him.
Because at the end of the day, he is still that awkward eighteen-year old new kid that falls for that insufferable, top-of-the-class, annoying kid named Gojo Satoru.
That no matter how hard he tries to run away from it, he still loves Gojo.
The silence stretches between them, becoming almost unbearable. Gojo does not try to close the distance again, and Nanami hears the soft shuffling of his footsteps as he retreats a step, and then another. The sound makes his heart clench, but he still cannot bring himself to speak.
It is Gojo who finally breaks the silence between them.
“I…” Gojo’s voice cracks, fragile in a way Nanami has never heard before, “I get it. You don’t… you don’t want me here. I…” He swallows audibly, his voice trembling with a heartache that stirs something deep within Nanami, “I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me. And I’ll… I’ll leave you alone now. Thank you, Kento. For everything. For the happiest moments of my life. I will...never forget you, I can't.”
Nanami hears the soft rustle of Gojo’s clothes as he begins to turn away, and something inside him snaps. The thought of Gojo walking out of his life for good, of never hearing his stupidly bright laughter or seeing that insufferable smile again, is unbearable.
“Don’t.”
He spins around, his voice breaking through the suffocating silence.
Gojo stops mid-step, his entire body stiffening. He turns slowly, his tear-streaked face a picture of disbelief, and Nanami’s chest tightens further. The sight of Gojo looking so utterly broken is almost too much to bear. Nanami takes a steadying breath, wiping at the tears that have started streaming down his own face again with the palm of his hands.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” Nanami says, his voice shaking but resolute, “or are you telling me that you— that you’re giving up on me now?”
For a moment, Gojo simply stares at him, his wide, crystalline eyes blinking in shock. Then, slowly, an incredulous smile breaks across his face, and the sight of it—the genuine relief and unbridled joy lighting up his features—causes something in Nanami to crack open.
“No–,” Gojo chokes out, shaking his head and his smile so bright despite the tears, “of course not.”
Nanami has missed that smile, the warmth it used to bring him.
He has missed Gojo.
“You know I will never give up on you,” Gojo’s voice is a fragile whisper, full of hope he does not dare to fully embrace yet.
Nanami lets out a weary sigh, shaking his head— not in denial but at his own stupid feelings and Gojo that will always win, “you’re an idiot, Satoru. The biggest idiot I’ve ever known,” he takes a step closer, his trembling hands clenching at his sides, “but I… I’ve already forgiven you. I think I’ve forgiven you for a while now, but it’s…”
Gojo looks at him, blinking through his tears with lips slightly parting as if he cannot believe he is standing in front of him before nuzzling into his hand when Nanami finally touches him.
“It’s hard to forget what it felt like to be pushed away by the person who means everything to me. Nanami’s voice falters, his vulnerability laid bare, “so don’t do it to me again, Satoru.”
That smile falters, guilt flickering across his face, but he doesn’t interrupt. Gojo simply nods, his lips pressing into a thin line as tears continue to fall silently down his cheeks and Nanami continues to wipe them away.
“Because I never stand a chance,” he confesses, his heart hurt and scared when finally let Gojo know what he really feels, “and I will let you break my heart again.”
“No,” Gojo responds weakly at that, “I won’t, I— Kento, I, I can’t break what's already broken but I’m going to try my best not to make it worse. And I will keep it safe. That I promise."
“Good,” Nanami says softly, his gaze meeting Gojo’s and holding it when he finally lets himself be free from the wall that holds him captive after all this time— and it is so freeing, so wonderful— to let himself be loved , “because I don’t think I could take it.”
The man in front of him takes a hesitant step forward, his hands half-raised as if afraid to move any closer, “I won’t,” he promises, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you, Kento. Never again. No more being an idiot and— and fuck it up.”
Of course Nanami knows Gojo will probably not start thinking before he speaks in a snap of the fingers, but he also knows that Gojo will try— because one of the things that make him love this man in the first place is the fact that Gojo will never give up.
He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. When he opens them, Gojo is watching him with a look so full of longing and adoration that it nearly takes his breath away.
“Can I…” Gojo’s voice is barely audible, his words trembling with hesitation, “can I kiss you? I just— I just miss you so fucking much.”
The sincerity and hurt in that voice make Nanami’s heart stutter and his fingers on Gojo’s jolt, and for a moment, Nanami does not answer.
Then, slowly, he gives a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Because he misses Gojo— so fucking much, too.
Gojo does not need any further encouragement. He steps closer, his hands trembling as they cup his face with a reverence that makes his chest ache. Their lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the walls around Nanami’s heart begin to crumble.
The kiss deepens, full of unspoken apologies and promises, and when they finally pull apart, both of them are breathless and tearful but undeniably whole.
Gojo rests his forehead against his, a watery laugh escaping him, “thank you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with relief, “thank you for still giving me a chance, Kento.”
Nanami shakes his head with a faint smile, his hands coming to rest on Gojo’s wrists, “just don’t be an idiot and throw my heart in my face again,” he says again, his voice firm but tinged with affection, “or I’ll throw you out of our office’s balcony.”
The laughter of the man who always has his heart is full, nervously adorable, and Nanami cannot stop the smile that escapes him.
“Can’t believe my boyfriend is so mean to me,” his insufferable idiot pretends to frown, though his smile radiates through his tears. And for the first time in a long time, Nanami chuckles.
He rolls his eyes at Gojo, “boyfriend? So presumptuous of you, Satoru,” he scolds him, and this time Gojo actually frowns like a sad puppy, “at least take me out for dinner first.”
Those bright blue eyes widen at his words.
“Nanami Kento,” of course this man has to go full theatrical and calls him like that, his face lightens up like the sun when he asks, “does this mean you will finally say ‘yes’ to my dinner date?”
Nanami feels the smirk creeping up his face when he pulls Gojo in closer, “no.”
Gojo’s whine and single tear dropping down his face silently because of his teasing answer makes him burst out laughing, Nanami plants a kiss gently on those lips he longs to kiss after all this time before whispering.
“Of course I will go on a dinner date with you, Gojo Satoru.”