As A Personal Rule, Nanami Makes It A Point To Never Make Plans During The Night.

as a personal rule, nanami makes it a point to never make plans during the night.

not only does he find it extremely unnecessary, but he's already ran through and thin all day at his job, it shouldn't be a surprise to anyone when he says he's too tired or - for lack of better word - uninterested in going out when all he'd rather do is stay at home in his apartment.

the only exceptions he considers in this rule are a.) when it’s the jujutsu tech asking for him to return in the middle of the night, or b.) right now.

he’s had a very long day, and in long days, there’s only one thing that can provide him comfort and peace — a sandwich.

which brings him here now — in a bakery a few blocks from his apartment, at eleven in the evening, tired and hungry.

"hey nanami!"

a shudder goes down his spine.

unfortunately, he recognizes that voice all too well for him to even wonder who it might be.

and for a long second, he seriously considers just faking not having heard them, and walking out of the shop right then and there.

but gojo satoru is quicker than he is, and that means before he could take another step towards the door, the annoying white haired man is already by his side.

"i didn’t think i’d see you here!" gojo beams, throwing one of his arms around the nanami's shoulder.

"why are you—" and he pauses, "what the hell are you wearing?"

and nanami remembers just then exactly what he was wearing, and it’s another reason added to why he should literally never go out at night ever.

“is that a rock shirt?” there's strained laughter lacing gojo's voice, “since when did you listen to metallica?”

a hard picture to paint - and as nanami kento grits his teeth together - the black metallica shirt he's wearing suddenly feels a lot more uncomfortable than it actually is.

“that’s none of your business.” he tells him, keeping a firm stoicity on the hints of his voice.

and gojo narrows his eyes, putting one hand on his hip as he grins, “name one metallica song.”

“gojo.” nanami warns, and this is his personal way of asking him to shut up and just let him buy his bread in peace.

but gojo is gojo, and nanami's known him for way too long to know that he doesn't answer to reason.

so he sighs, his shoulders slightly falling, and he makes his way to the counter, sandwich in hand, and trying his best to ignore the white haired man walking with him.

"name one singer in metallica." gojo smiles, satisfied in following him around.

nanami doesn't spare him another glance, "no."

"what's your favorite metallica album?" gojo asks again, this time just for the hell of it.

nanami keeps his head up, "i don't have one."

and gojo scoffs, both his hands in his pockets as he shakes his head disappointedly, "you're sounding like a real poser, nanami."

so much for buying my bread in peace.

nanami sighs — seriously? — leave it to the universe for sending gojo his way on the one night he decided to break his rule for bread.

his shoulders fall, “gojo, what’re you even doing here?”

and honestly, nanami expected for gojo to say something along the lines of "picking up a chick" or "i put a tracking device on you so i can stalk you and see you during your worst moments".

what he didn't expect was when he said something entirely different — something much more alarming than the stalking thing — and it's that gojo satoru, probably the one person in the world that he cannot stand, is out here, in this bakery, with you.

nanami blinks, "what? who's here?"

“yeah — we just got back from jujutsu tech, and i said that we had to deal with something here too," gojo explains, shrugging, "but i really just wanted a sandwich."

“gojo.” nanami looks at him, and he’s more serious than ever now, “who is here with you?”

“nanami?”

and it's you.

now, gojo seeing nanami in his sleep clothes at eleven in the evening as he's buying a sandwich is one thing, but you ... probably seeing the exact thing - metallica shirt and all - well, that is just about a million times worse.

you stand a few steps away from the cashier, your own basket of bread and sandwiches in your hand, and you look at him like its the first time you've seen him all day.

“woah!” you beam, the smile on your face easily reaching your eyes, “you’re wearing the shirt i gave you!”

gojo clutches his stomach, the smile on his face opening with laughter, and he points, “you gave this shirt to him?”

"yeah!" you nod, and you look at nanami in acknowledgement, "for his birthday a year ago.”

gojo’s smile drops, “what? — what happened to your 'no presents' rule?”

"unbelievable," and there's a hand harshly hitting his chest as the white haired man in front of him groans in disbelief, “remember when i bought you that really expensive tie and all you did was return it.”

"i already have ties." nanami pushes him off away from his chest, rolling his eyes, “i had no use for it.”

"really?" gojo scoffs, his arms suddenly dramatically crossed over his chest, “and you have use for a metallica shirt?”

"hey!" and this time, it's your turn to shove gojo, your foot kicking him lightly as you frown, “it’s a cute shirt.”

(completely ignoring him as he yells in pain.)

“yes.” nanami looks your way, and he nods, making a quick glance at gojo, “i agree.”

gojo blinks, “you’re messing with me.”

“i’ve never seen you wear that shirt.” he scoffs, his voice falling dramatically as he looks at both you and nanami with a faux hurt expression.

gojo puts a hand on his heart, “and i’ve known you since high school, we’re best friends!”

nanami ignores gojo, instead turning to look at you with a grim expression, “no, we’re not.”

and you look back at him, “oh, i know.”

gojo fades in the background in nanami’s peripheral vision, his newly found attention now falling on you and the tired look you wore on your face, and he figures that you might’ve had a long day too.

he wants to ask if you’re okay, but nanami bites his tongue.

“but why are you wearing it?” you laugh, “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you out of your usual clothes.”

his usual clothes which were a suit and tie, and it’s just now you realize that you might’ve been under the impression that he sleeps in his work attire too.

your shoulders rise, “you ran out of laundry or something?”

“i wear this shirt all the time.” nanami answers, his face still unbothered, but he straightens out the shirt in question.

you quirk an eyebrow, and he contemplates for a second if it’s worth it to tell you that this shirt is probably the most cherished thing he owns.

it means a lot to him to have this shirt from you.

and he cracks a small smile, “for sleeping.”