001.

The lone cigarette hangs over your tiers loosely, mindlessly staring off into space. You were pondering a thought for a moment, but you couldn't bring yourself back to whatever it was that made you zone out. Your arms cross just below your chest, leaning into the brick of the office building. The ash at the end of the cigarette was progressively increasing the more you became idle.

What was it that you were thinking about?

"He's not back yet?"

The lowly registered voice breaks your subconscious fixation on whatever it was far into the distance, eyes now flitting up to the taller, blonde haired man that appears adjacent to you. You purse your lips together, lithe fingers reaching up to remove the cigarette from your lips to tap the excess of ash after realizing just how much of it there was.

"Of course not." You respond with a hint of annoyance in your tone when you remember what you were thinking about – or who, for that matter.

Satoru Gojo.

He was off completing another assignment – one that he completely dismissed the offering of help from the other known sorcerers in the branch – even though Ijichi insisted on following along after as a support system. And he hadn't returned yet. It wasn't out of Gojo's character to do such a thing, so when you hear him complaining outside of your office audibly to 'taking on the job himself', it doesn't come as a surprise.

That doesn't mean it never brought a tinge of annoyance every time he was performatively cocky.

And not only that, this had become something of a recurrence. He was gone for far longer than he needed to be today, though.

A similar sigh of annoyance expels from the man, fixing the ocular frames along his face that you always found so oddly shaped. You can't help the amused smile tugging at the corner of your lips to his reaction, taking a slow drag from the cigarette only to exhale a short laugh of cloud.

"Kento.. You can't be surprised by that, you know," You comment in a murmur, allowing your arm to hang off the one bent under your bosom as your gaze now settles on the other.

His features were stoic, the strain of his work days idle on his features, but the way he carried himself was far from exhausted through his built, taller stature. You can see the shimmer in the glass of his frame when his head tilts towards you, offering him a raise of your brows.

"He's too arrogant."

"Again, not surprising."

There's a growing silence between the two of you. This conversation was becoming a common one, Nanami somehow finding you outside more and more with the same pack of cigarettes in your hold; same position; same time and place. It was almost as if it was a routine.

".. Have you spoken to him at all?" He asks, and you don't know if it's out of curiosity or of concern.

It's only then that you ponder a response after a moment of trying to recall the last conversation you had with Gojo.

He had been brushing you off every time he caught your glance in the office, every time you walked past each other with a few centimeters of distance between you in passing. Granted, the last time you were even in the same vicinity as Gojo, it wasn't pleasant and all you wanted was to block it out of your memory for as long as you could. It was only a couple months ago, but it was still fresh on replay in your mind.

Nanami inquires about Gojo everytime he finds you outside. The history between Gojo and yourself wasn't that too farfetched to understand – all of them having been in the same technical school, gone through the same training, known each other for what seemed like years. You knew Gojo best, even with how closed off he seemed to other people, but you were someone that saw through his bullshit a lot more than just surface level to anyone else who would just brush it off as him being consumed by narcissism.

"Y/N," Nanami says with a weight that's delicate even with how deep his tone was, breaking you away from your trailing thoughts that cause your gaze to travel once more, looking back at him.

He holds your gaze with a hesitance, hands neatly tucked into the pockets of his trousers just as he expels a breath through his nostrils, still waiting on an answer that he knew was the same.

"You know him, Kento, he always comes back."

You see a small sense of tension release Nanami's shoulders by your words, and that's enough for him to not press forward. It's almost peculiar in the way he doesn't pry. Part of you wanted him to keep prying.

He turns away from you, both of your eyes now settled into your surroundings a bit of the way across from you, settling into the silence between the two of you.

"You know you should quit doing this."

"Smoking? I know."

"That's not what I meant." Nanami's larger frame leans back into the building beside you, still giving you a couple feet between the two of you.

Of course, you knew what he meant. You let out a sigh, blindly pressing the end of the cigarette to the brick to put it out with a twist of your fingers.

"It's complicated, Nanami."

"Which is more of a reason to stop. If you know how he is, Y/N, you'd stop giving him this much grace."

The weight of Nanami's words were heavy on your chest, but you knew he was right. He didn't know the full story between you two, but he didn't need to know. It was the way you carried yourself, the energy you possessed at the mentioning of Gojo – it was all too obvious.

You decide to avoid a response to his words, turning your head to look up at him with a playful smile that feigns innocence, now returning your arms back to their crossed positioning.

"You know you don't have to care about me so much~" You say in jest, just enough to get a small inkling of a smile from the taller man.

And you do, the corners of Nanami's lips turning up into a slight smile that resembles sunlight between cumulus. It's enough to make the somber moment much more lighthearted than it needed to be.

"I'd be a fool to not care as much. Any decent man would want to be worried."

There's an airy chuckle that leaves your lips, just before your attention is drawn away from each other to hear the slam of a car door.

Nanami's smile is now dissipated, settled back into his stoic expression just as your own resets, even with your brows still slightly lifted to the sight of two men walking up to the building.

The much taller, white haired man emerges from the vehicle, tugging down the dark bandage over his eyes and brushing the dirt and non-existent gravel from his dark attire. His appearance is disheveled, looking as if he scrapped with someone in a ditch with remnants of blood littered in his hair, across his pale flesh and fabric clinging and distressed to his frame.

"Yo, Nanami!" He exclaims, tone a tad exhausted while a slightly shorter, dark haired gentleman trails behind him soon after. You hear a disgruntled breath leave Nanami, catching from your peripherals his hand lifting in greeting.

"Satoru." Nanami calls out, eyeing over his appearance as he's leaning off the building and your own body straightens up. He glances over to you for a second, seeing the discomfort in your stiff appearance, now taking two steps forward when Gojo begins to walk over.

"You look like hell."

"Hey, I've fought worse~ This was lightwork." Gojo says with a smitten grin plastered onto his face, Nanami only sighing hopelessly.

There wasn't an ounce of acknowledgement of your presence when Nanami and Gojo spoke to one another. It doesn't bother you, but it does bother you. It makes you realize that you really don't need to be here after all.

'If you know how he is, Y/N, you'd stop giving him this much grace.'

The quote replays like an echo in your head. It sinks deep and it's now something you're completely stuck on. It's enough to bring your feet to step away from the two of them, crossing behind Nanami to head back into the building. You need to be away and in your office anyway and you got the reassurance you needed that Gojo was still kicking.

It's when you step away, does Gojo's attention follow you for a split second before it returns back to Nanami. And Nanami can clearly see it, no matter how short of a fraction it was, his own gaze trailing behind you before he turns back to the white haired man.

You're no longer in earshot of the conversation, but the feeling of dread is still there. Why was it consuming you this badly? What purpose did it serve to wallow in it? You tousle your tresses in dismay, huffing to yourself.

"This is so fucking stupid.." It's something you murmur to yourself.

Every time he goes on a mission, you worry; every time he isn't back in the fit time frame, you worry. How much more did you need to worry about a man that wanted absolutely nothing to do with you?

You weren't expecting a 'hey, hello, Y/N!' or a 'were you waiting on little ol' me~?' that he would casually throw in just to annoy you, to which you would retort with something along the lines of 'glad to see you not dead'.

You don't know what you were expecting.

The moment you enter your office, you close the door immediately behind you and lean back into it, the back of your head pressing into the glass. You feel a slight sting behind your eyelids when you close them for a moment of clarity, you already know your eyes are welling up by just how frustrated you were.

You settle into the memory from years back.

It's as if you're reliving it. The momentary glimmers of your youth with Satoru, the stolen glances, the teasing that traveled into your later years that were still juvenile just more refined with age. Late nights after trials and training. Off days where you'd hang around his place; where he'd hang around yours.

Then, the memory starts to build up.

Being employed under the same group of sorcerers for the academy. Taking assigned missions with each other with ease, celebratory drinks after to congratulate each other on coming out alive of each one.

The memory starts to boil over.

Letting you in on his Infinite.

It's scalding.

His Infinite.

It's hard to control – hard to breathe.

The day you realized he denied you access to his Infinite.

It makes your stomach sink the more you think about it, the more you ruminate in it–

"Lost in thought or are you spiraling?"

The familiarity in that tone of voice sends a shock through your frame and makes your gut once sunk low jump straight back up into your throat.

Your eyes shoot open, immediately darting to the glimmer of the white haired figure sitting at your desk, sitting back comfortably with one leg settled over his knee.

"Jesus fucking Christ–" You let out a weary gasp, palm pressed to your heart as if to check if it was still beating. Gojo expels a short laugh in response and your brows twitch together.

It was the first thing he's said to you in months, and it didn't feel as comforting or fulfilling to be finally addressed by Gojo as you thought it would be.

You wear an irritated expression as you glance over him, standing up straighter against the door.

"Can't remember the last time I popped in on you like this," He remarks with his hands folding together on his lap, mirth playing on his tiers with his head cocked towards his shoulder, using his heel to lean back into the chair. "I almost forgot how jumpy you get when I do it."

You couldn't remember the last time he did this either. Gojo would play this game with you quite often, mostly to ask you a measly question about something that could have been simply sent through a text or just to get under your skin when you weren't expecting it. Most of the time, it was the latter.

"Why can't you just knock on the door like a normal person?" You respond with a sharpness in your tone that just causes the grin to stretch further on his lips.

"Mmn, I'm not normal, remember?" He purrs lowly.

"Clearly," A sigh leaves your lips, your facial features now relaxing after taking a small glance around your office before it returns back to him. You ponder what to say next, but the words come out less polite than you initially wanted. "What do you want, Gojo?"

It's quiet for a short moment before the grin is softening on his lips into more of a cocky smile, sitting back up again and swiveling in the chair to face you.

"Come over to my place tonight."

You stare blankly. You don't respond.

Gojo exhales a dry laugh to the delay of a response he receives from you, only causing your shoulders to tense.

"What?"

"Do I really have to repeat myself again, Y/N? You heard me."

"I heard you–" You echo back to him, scoffing under a haughty breath as you push yourself off the door, shifting to stand in front of your desk. You lean over to snatch up a few papers that were laid out on the surface, turning to your filing cabinet to store them where they needed to be. "-but lemme guess.. You don't have some other girl to occupy your space tonight, so you have to turn to me as a last resort?"

"Oh, please, Y/N~ You know me better than anyone else, and you know that I can scoop any random girl in a millisecond to do my bidding if I chose to~"

Your jaw tightens to that.

But, he wasn't wrong.

Gojo had a knack for hooking up with just about anything that had a pulse, and they'd surely fall into his palms just with a glance. You've walked in on him a couple times when you would merely visit and a different girl every time was scrambling to get their clothes on and rush out as fast as possible, never to be seen again.

"Tonight's different. I want you to come over. For old time's sake."

"I'm busy tonight."

Gojo grimaces with a twitch of his nose, even exhaling a snort to the quick admission.

"You're lying." He chimes, head following you as you close the filing cabinet and turning towards him again.

"And?" You place your hands on your hips, facial features stern when speaking – definitely trying to shield yourself. "So what if I'm lying? Why do you want me over?"

"For old time's sa–"

"Gojo." You raise your voice to stop him, the sound bouncing off the walls as you hold a hand up to press into your temple and close your eyes to calm yourself for that small pause, quietly, deeply sighing.

You're mildly hesitant when your mouth opens, the following words hardly summing up how you felt in that moment.

"You haven't spoken to me.. In months," You begin with a worn tone, much quieter but still audible enough for him to hear you. It was only the two of you in the room after all. "And.. you want me to come over to your place? Just like that? You want me to just say, 'yes, Satoru, I've been waiting for you to reach out like this, I'll definitely come over!' and just do it?"

You play up the performance by exaggerating your words – even when there was so much truth behind them – hand falling to your side as you stare a hole into the white haired man perched in the seat.

All the while, Gojo's smile is still fixed on his tiers, lightly clicking his tongue soon after before he's standing up from the chair to walk around your desk, leaning his hip into the edge of it.

"Honestly, knowing you, I figured you wouldn't be too thrilled by it," He gives a shrug of his shoulders, rolling his head to cock once more. "But.. You haven't said no."

You blink once, coming to the realization that you really haven't denied it. He wasn't really asking either.

He just simply said it.

"Come over to my place tonight." Gojo repeats, now lifting himself off of the desk to stand tall and a foot away from you. He towers over you, so you have to crane your neck just enough to get a good look at him. "If you don't show up, I'll get the message."

You don't even have a second to reply, or even come back with a snarky comment, before he's disappearing from sight.

The weight on your chest has somehow lifted, the tension in your shoulders soothed, but it's not comforting in the slightest. You stare at the spot he was once standing in, mindlessly walking over to your desk to sit onto as your eyes wander the room. Your fingertips drag along the surface of the wood, quirking your lips to one side in thought.

Why didn't you say no..?

There's a knock at the door that breaks you away from lingering far longer on the thought, your body back to its stiff state. Only then does it go away when you see it open and Nanami appear behind it. A sigh of relief leaves you, almost slumping forward with your palms bracing the desk.

Nanami doesn't have to say anything. The look in your eyes says enough.

You break the silence after a moment, standing back onto your feet as you take a glance at the clock on the wall before looking back to Nanami.

"Dinner on me?"