Today's whumptober fic for the "outnumbered" prompt features Nanami being done with Gojo.
Under Cover
When Gojo gets himself in trouble, Nanami has to infiltrate a yakuza bar in the guise of a clan hitman to get him out.
Nanami was instantly greeted by two guards as he got out of the car. He remained passive as they checked him for weapons, removing the handgun he had tucked into his shoulder holster as part of the ploy.
"You may go in," one of the guards said, motioning him through the doors of the club.
Nanami straightened his coat and tie and strode inside.
The club was closed, at least for regular business, but the owner had his own business to see to, and Nanami was, unfortunately, caught up in that as well, all thanks to the perpetually insufferable Gojo Satoru.
The idiot's newest headache causing event had been him getting kidnapped by a yakuza family who also happened to deal in Cursed Objects and other similar relics. Including their newest acquisition: the Gojo clan's only Six Eyes user.
A clan that was not willing to deal even for Gojo's life apparently, and passed it off to the school to deal with.
So now in a desperate bid from Jujutsu High and the surrounding schools to get their most powerful asset back—aside from the people who would rather see Gojo gone for good—Nanami was posing as a contractor from one of the rival clans to go in and pick Gojo up.
He had honestly thought the idea was ridiculous, but the higher ups had insisted that the man they were dealing with wouldn't sell Gojo back to them, and it would be better to create a ruse around hauling him off to be put down quietly, promising protection should a war between the clans break out as a result.
And, who better to play the role of calm, cold assassin than Nanami Kento?
In all honesty, hauling Gojo out to a deserted part of the countryside and putting a bullet in his head sounded pretty good to the sorcerer right now, if he thought it would do any good.
He was led to the back of the club where the young yakuza family head lounged against a bar with a drink in his hand, grinning as he saw Nanami.
"Ah, you made it. So your boss didn't decide to back out after all?"
"No, the deal will proceed as planned," Nanami said, handing over the briefcase he held.
The man nodded to two of his goons to take it and they opened the case, showing off stacks and stacks of yen neatly piled up.
"Good," the man said, motioning Nanami forward. "Now, as promised, I'll let you inspect the goods before you make the final call—just so you can see we have the authentic product up for offer."
He led Nanami through a thick curtain to a private room which was filled to the brim with armed men. Nanami calculated quickly, and was not happy with what he saw.
His original plan had been to go in, and take out as many men as he could—preferably all of them. However, they certainly weren't taking any chances, probably because Gojo had a bit of a reputation. He was going to have to quickly think of something else then…
Speaking of Gojo, the man was looking a little worse for wear, sitting slumped over and bound to a chair in the center of the room full of yakuza toughs. To top it off, his restraints were covered in warding that was undoubtedly keeping his powers at bay.
"Here is he," the family head said, motioning with a flourish to the captive sorcerer.
One of the men stepped forward, wrenching Gojo's head up by the hair. Eerie blue eyes shot open and a dopey grin spread over his face as he saw Nanami.
"H-hey, would you look at that! If it isn't ol' Na—"
Nanami acted quickly, already striding forward, and slamming his fist directly into Gojo's face before he could even finish his sentence.
The man's shock was obvious, staring up at him with wide eyes, blood running down his chin from a split lip. "W-what are you—"
Shut up! Nanami snarled silently as he punched Gojo again, splitting the skin across his cheek. Don't you see what I'm trying to do, you idiot? Play along!
Gojo finally shut up after that blow and Nanami hoped he got the picture. He adjusted the gloves he was wearing and turned to the yakuza family head. "I apologize, he has been a thorn in the clan's side for a very long time and I wanted the satisfaction of punching him in the face."
The man laughed, a gleeful look in his eyes as he motioned grandly. "By all means, continue! You've given me the money, I'm not stopping you."
Nanami stared at Gojo who was looking back at him, wary. He weighed his options quickly, knowing that hesitation could count toward his presumed professionalism or it could only cause suspicion.
And, if he was being completely honest with himself, he might just have thought about a moment like this often. Perhaps more often than he should have.
So, to sell the role, he turned back to Gojo and drove his fist into his face once more.
Gojo let out a sound of surprised pain, head snapping back. Nanami didn't stop there. He kept throwing punches, bloodying Gojo's annoyingly handsome face, and delivering more blows to his ribs and stomach, causing him to grunt, eyes blowing wide with shock and pain, doubling over as far as his restraints would allow.
Nanami wasn't that cruel though, he got to work out his frustrations, and moved on. He knew Gojo had a very low tolerance for pain—what else could be expected from a man who didn't allow himself to be hurt? Who barely knew the feeling of a stubbed toe like the rest of them. Nanami would be lying if he were to claim that seeing pain on Gojo's face didn't give him some small bit of satisfaction, but he knew when the man had had enough and he kicked his chair over as a final blow, leaving Gojo panting and moaning past bloody teeth on the ground.
Nanami brushed his hair back with the back of his wrist. "I really needed that," he muttered.
"I can tell," the yakuza head said with a twisted smile. "Satisfied with your purchase then?"
Before Nanami could reply one of the goons came up to whisper in his boss's ear and Nanami suddenly found the family head's gun pointed at him.
"What are you playing at?"
Nanami frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The money's fake," the man snarled, stepping forward and shoving the gun against Nanami's temple. "So who the hell are you really?"
Nanami glanced down at Gojo who was looking back up at him with a steady glance—or as steady as it could be with one eye swelling shut.
Nanami simply sighed, and reached up to loosen his tie. "Why do you insist on causing so much annoyance to me?" he muttered.
"Hey, hands up!" the yakuza man said.
Nanami felt his Cursed energy rising to the surface and struck out swiftly at the man's elbow, an audible snap of bones sounded as the gun was sent skittering away with the man's scream.
Blades and guns were drawn as Nanami ducked and yanked Gojo from the chair, dragging him over to a back door, kicking a table over for them to hide behind.
"What the hell kind of rescue is this?" Gojo cried.
Nanami untied him as quickly as he could. "It appears Plan A did not work."
"Plan A was beating the crap out of me?" Gojo asked, incredulously.
Nanami refused to answer, yanking the ropes off of him and hauling him to his feet, dragging him out the back door as more gunshots rang out.
"So what exactly is Blan B?"
"Just shut up. We're going to have to fight our way out of here."
Nanami wrapped his tie around his hand as they came out into the main area of the club, the rest of the yakuza toughs assembled, waiting for them.
"Are you using Infinity?" Nanami asked.
"Yes, now I am—"
Nanami shoved Gojo ahead of him as bullets were fired, all of them coming to a stop before they could hit Gojo who let out a scream all the same.
"Nanami, what the hell!"
But Nanami was already leaping forward, taking out several of the men with a few blows. He was into Overtime now, and while normally he wouldn't use those powers against normal humans, they didn't really have a choice at the moment.
"Stop them!" the yakuza head shouted, staggering out of the back room, clutching his broken arm.
"Time to go," Nanami snapped, grabbing Gojo by the shoulder and hauling him toward the door, possibly using him as a shield for his back in the process. Nanami broke through the door and Gojo finally seemed to get off a blast of power, because something exploded in the club behind them as they made a dash for the car.
Nanami threw Gojo into the passenger seat and raced around, grabbing his keys.
Once they were finally on the road, he breathed a sigh of relief, flexing his bruised fists against the wheel.
Gojo on the other hand was leaning back in the other seat, head tipped back, pinching his nose to keep it from bleeding everywhere as he moaned.
"Shit, Nanami did you have to hit me so hard?"
"I had to sell it."
"Well it didn't work!" Gojo retorted.
Nanami grabbed a handful of napkins from the center console and shoved them toward Gojo. "I would prefer you not bleed everywhere."
Gojo shoved the wad of napkins against his nose, mumbling and moaning under his breath as he nursed his injuries. Nanami would have felt worse if he knew the sorcerer wasn't such a drama queen. He hadn't hit him that hard.
"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it," Gojo muttered.
"I'm not," Nanami replied. "But we also may have started a feud with one of the yakuza families. In retrospect, it's probably best they figured out I wasn't from one of the clans—otherwise there might be a fullscale war on our hands."
"No shit," Gojo said with a genuinely gleeful laugh. "That would have been pretty funny though."
"I really don't see any humor in it."
"Of course not, but, that being said, that was pretty badass back there." He grinned, poking Nanami in the shoulder. "You know you're actually a lot more fun that I took you for. Is this what you always do on Friday nights?"
Nanami gave him a baleful look before turning back to the road.
Gojo sighed, pressing the napkins to his nose again. "I guess I should say thanks for the rescue, huh? But next time, can you pull your punches a little?"
"I make no promises."
