The Messy Science of Attraction and Repulsion

7. Don't Stand So Close to Me

10 Years Earlier

Nanami wasn't sure if his semester was ever going to recover.

He was just shy of four weeks in and so far everything had been a complete disaster. He felt like a social pariah. He had made only one friend, whom he could barely tolerate, and he felt certain that the two most popular kids in school both hated him. Geto hated him for daring to go near Gojo. And now Gojo probably hated him because Nanami had (unexpectedly, unwittingly) turned out to be a creepy pervert who had been sleazily spying on him while he was busy getting nailed underneath the bleachers. Nanami couldn't even look at Gojo now. If his eyes happened to even accidentally wander in Gojo's general direction, he would immediately start having flashbacks and find himself breaking out in a cold sweat. He got hot under the collar. He turned an alarming shade of tomato. He started vividly fantasizing about all the things that he would like to do with Gojo under the bleachers.

It was like a curse. And it was proving quite impossible to exorcise it from himself.

Plus, there was the constant worry that Geto was going to pummel his ass again. But this all hinged on whether or not Gojo had actually told his psychotic curse manipulating boyfriend about Nanami being a skeezy voyeur. It was impossible to know. He supposed the first indication would be if he woke up to find himself being slowly and painfully swallowed by a giant grub worm curse that would gleefully spend the next century agonizingly digesting him. That would be a definite clue. Otherwise, Nanami just had to sit tight and panic and wait for another possible shoe (leather boot) to drop.

Violently. On his face.

As usual, when Nanami felt stressed he retreated into the comfort of his studies and his books. He was sitting on a bench near the vending machines one morning when a shadow fell across his face, blocking out the sun.

"Hey…"

Nanami looked up to see Gojo Satoru staring down at him over the top of his dark frames. Nanami clenched the book he was reading in a death grip as he desperately tried not to think about Gojo under the bleachers.

Too late. It was literally ALL he could fucking think about.

The second year sorcerer plopped down on the same bench about two feet away. Nanami felt his anxiety start to ratchet up. It had been over a week since the latest Gojo induced incident and so far Nanami had been in the clear. He had taken precisely zero roundhouses to the face.

Which meant Gojo must not have told Geto about Nanami's spying.

Nanami said nothing, his ears flooding with the thudthudthudthud sound of his own heart desperately trip hammering inside his chest. He didn't look at Gojo's impossibly perfect pop idol boy band face. He couldn't. Alarm bells were going off along with a mental sign in his head flashing "PROXIMITY WARNING" over and over like the danger signal inside a nuclear reactor that was headed straight into meltdown.

A whole agonizing minute passed (it felt like a brutal eternity). Then Gojo said, "So listen, I really need you NOT to pull that kind of shit you did back on the bleachers the other day."

Nanami's book practically leaped off his lap of its own accord. Blood rushed up his face. The last thing he expected was Gojo Satoru confronting him about his creepy indefensible behavior right in front of the vending machines. Geto yes, but not Gojo.

Because as far as he could tell, Gojo didn't seem to know that Nanami even existed. Nanami didn't warrant a blip on his all powerful Six Eyed radar. They'd had precisely zero interactions since that day in detention. But instead of defending himself, Nanami blurted out, "Why didn't you tell Geto that it was me up there?"

"Because I thought you liked having teeth? See, this is just the sort of thing that really stresses Suguru out. And when Suguru's stressed out, then I'm stressed out. And my stress is currently at 120 percent capacity, okay?" Then he muttered under his breath, "It's not like I have the entirety of my clan and the whole jujutsu world on my shoulders or anything."

Something in his tone made Nanami risk a glance at him. Gojo had taken his shades off and was viciously rubbing at his eyes again, just like that day in detention. It was only now that Nanami took notice of the fact that Gojo seemed to be marinating in his own particular flavored blend of Stress and Expectations and Spectacular Fear of Failure.

"So...no luck manifesting red then?" Nanami ventured.

"Nope. Nada. Still on the fritz," Gojo answered morosely, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "I'm the worst. I'm never going to master repulsion. I'm doomed. The very idea I could ever even dream of obtaining a domain expansion is laughable at this point. And I'm supposed to be the strongest sorcerer of the modern age." The last sentence came out in a sulky whine.

Nanami snuck another glance in his direction. Gojo was sitting with his legs splayed out, hanging his head so far down in his apparent mental crisis that Nanami expected him to just topple over any minute. He looked for all the world like a marionette that had its strings cut.

"You can stop being all nervous and looking around like that, you know. You're fine. You're not a target. Suguru's in detention." Then Gojo added, "He poured an entire can of iced coffee over my head this morning and Yaga put him in timeout. Again."

Nanami did think that Gojo was looking a little less…fluffier than usual? A little flat. A little damp.

Not that Nanami was keeping tabs on Gojo Satoru's hairstyle or anything. Definitely not.

Nanami made a face. "Why would he do that to you?"

Gojo's head shot up and the most breathtakingly evil smile that Nanami had ever seen adorned his face. "We went to exorcise some curses at an aquarium this morning. And there was this gigantic jellyfish curse just floating about, and when Suguru got close enough to it, I decided to just pop the thing right in his face. The blowback was spectacular!" Gojo enthused, obviously exceedingly pleased with himself. "The amount of slime that got stuck in his hair and his uniform was epic." Then he added gleefully: "Worth it."

Nanami realized his mouth was hanging open. Were these two actually in a loving relationship together or just taking occasional timeouts to screw in the middle of a very violent ongoing prank war?

TBD…

"Why do you like him?" Nanami asked, clearly not getting the appeal of this dynamic at all.

Gojo looked at him as if Nanami had suddenly turned feeble minded, "Why? Do you really want to know?" A flash of a tiny smirk appeared on his face.

Oh god! Why was he asking this? Yet Nanami doggedly pushed forward. "Yes?"

"Because Suguru is the only person in this whole school who isn't afraid of me," Gojo said simply. "And he gives as good as he gets."

Nanami tried to ignore the possibly lewd implications of that last statement. "Why would people here be afraid of you?" Nanami wondered, somewhat perplexed.

Once again, Gojo regarded Nanami as if he were a few curses short of an uzamaki. He leaned back on his arms and stared heavenward, giving Nanami a good view of his infuriatingly flawless (even when damp) profile. "Being born with my particular combination of traits and technique is a rare occurrence, even amongst the people in my clan," he said seriously.

He paused and Nanami waited for him to continue, unsure as to exactly where this speech was headed.

"The ones born with the Six Eyes, historically speaking, don't live long. They get cut down early. Other clans, other sorcerers…they take them down young, because they are seen as too much of a threat." Gojo turned and looked straight at him.

"I've had people trying to kill me since I was six years old. There's been a bounty on my head since I was in diapers."

Well this just turned really fucking dark…

Nanami sat perfectly still, shoulders rigid but at attention. He honestly didn't know what to say to that. What could one possibly even say to that? Sorry you had to spend your whole childhood trying not to be hunted down and murdered?

It was doubtful they made a greeting card for that.

Still, Nanami tried. "So…what did you do?"

"I made them all fear me."

This was muttered so bluntly and so coldly that Nanami couldn't even speak. And when Gojo turned that pretty head of his to stare at him with those beautiful prismatic eyes, he felt himself flinch.

Because Nanami saw more than just the beauty in them this time.

There were fucking murders lurking in there. Plural. Unimaginable shit. Atrocities. Random but calculated acts of violence.

Maybe even a straight up war crime or two…

And all just so he could survive and claw his way into adulthood…

Nanami was shaking. Physically shaking. He always thought Geto Suguru was the scary one.

Gojo smiled and tilted his head back up, sparing Nanami from having to look at the swirling murder vortex that had taken up residence in his baby blue eyes. He finished his speech in a more conversational tone, "So yey, that's why I like Suguru. Zero fear there. Because pretty much everyone else is pants-shittingly afraid of me here."

Gojo stood up to go. He stretched his long lanky frame before he simply jogged away, saying over his shoulder with an innocent smile:

"So you might want to think about that little piece of information before trying to eye fuck me from the top of the bleachers again, okay?"

It was cheerfully delivered yet an unmistakable threat. Nanami felt his stomach drop.

He was truly cursed.

8. Same Boy You've Always Known

Thank God it was Saturday.

Nanami didn't have to work of course, but that didn't mean he didn't keep to a specific set schedule all the same. In fact, his Saturday schedule was pretty much a duplicate of his weekday schedule, sans the bakery stop and work. He still rose at six. He still made coffee. He still went to the gym.

He hesitated at stopping for an espresso.

And it was all because of Gojo fucking Satoru.

But by this point Nanami was starting to get angry. Going two straight days without his morning triple shot was unheard of for him. Deviating from his normal schedule was unheard of for him.

Nanami Kento did NOT deviate.

So he went for coffee. He practically knocked the shop door off its hinges because he hit it so hard going inside.

This was obviously Gojo's fault. Ten years on and that man was still messing with his head. He was like an all powerful god that had the mentality of a twelve year old kid and no sense of boundaries. He was what Nanami would term a Manic Pixie Dream Boy. He was a curse. And Nanami didn't need that sort of curse in his life. Nanami valued sense, order, productivity, and stability. Gojo Satoru was messy, chaotic, tactless and completely and totally—

—hot.

Because like a bad (yet shiny) penny that kept turning up, there he was yet again holding court at the end of the bar. Still wearing those casual yet ridiculously expensive clothes that gave him that fresh from the catwalk air. Hair deliberately unkempt yet somehow perfect. Today he had on a pair of little square framed fuck boy sunglasses instead of round ones. And all the baristas were practically falling over themselves in their obvious attempts to crowd around and flirt with him. Nanami was absolutely incensed. He was going to have to forfeit his drink yet again!

"Nanamin! Don't leave!"

Before Nanami could get out the door, Gojo was suddenly there, blocking his way. Nanami felt his ire rise. "Don't call me by that ridiculous nickname," he hissed, fuming. Before he could say anything else the little barista, Emi, was suddenly there, placing a triple shot in a to-go cup directly into his hand.

"He already paid for it," she practically swooned/giggled at him. Nanami stared angrily at the drink. Of course Gojo Satoru got prompt and courteous service wherever he went, thanks to his goddam pretty privilege and stupid fucking face card.

"Why do you look so mad at that cup? That is the right drink isn't it?" said Gojo, frowning.

"Why are you stalking me?" Nanami finally demanded, glaring from behind his green tinted frames.

"Does it really count as stalking if you can see perfectly for six kilometers in every direction? I would really have to work hard to not be aware of your existence."

"That," huffed Nanami, "is not an answer, and you damn well know it." Nanami was getting more and more wound up with every passing second of this exchange. "There are dozens of coffee shops around Gojo, why do you keep turning up at this one? Are you purposefully trying to antagonize me?"

There was a blank expression on Gojo's face that Nanami didn't buy for a millisecond. "I'm just having a mocha? Does that make me guilty of some sort of crime?" Then: "I thought you might be happy to see an old friend from high school?"

That fucking did it…

"You and I were never friends!" Nanami said flatly. "And I don't know if some memory curse has conveniently altered your brain chemistry or what but: You. Made. My. School. Life. Hell. So why would I ever want to talk to you again?"

Gojo just stood there open-mouthed like a shop window mannequin. "Wow, that's harsh. It wasn't really all that bad was it?"

Nanami scoffed, refusing to even dignify that utterly ridiculous statement with a response. He shoved past Gojo and left the coffee shop, the frown lines between his brows practically vibrating with the intensity of his scowl.

Saturday. It was a goddam Saturday. His day off, which was absolutely sacrosanct.

And it had been completely and thoroughly ruined by Gojo fucking Satoru.

9. Doll Parts

10 Years Earlier

It was late in the evening and Nanami Kento was walking beneath a fiery orange sky, headed in the direction of Masamichi Yaga's office. He carried the report from his latest assignment under his arm in a leather binder. He was tired from having to deal with some curses that had been hanging around a laundromat. In theory one would think laundry curses would be easy to clean up, but these particular ones kept stuffing themselves into the tumble washers, forcing Nanami to break through the glass bubble windows with his cursed tool. Over and over again. All the while screeching about 'full loads' and 'dryer sheets'. Nanami got soaked repeatedly. By the end of it he was thoroughly pissed off and ready to go home and take a shower.

But first he needed to deliver his report.

It should be mentioned here that Nanami absolutely detested having to go to Yaga's office. Not because of the man himself, but because of his hobby. Yaga was very fond of making cursed dolls. It was a very strange and very off putting passion of his. Because these dolls typically were in the form of very large, very disconcertingly cute plushies. Pink bears and rabbits and various other candy colored woodland creatures.

With creepy cursed button eyes that would follow you around the room…

Sometimes the really big bear in the corner would turn its head and giggle creepily at you…

It was repulsive. It made Nanami want to drop his folder outside the office door and run. But that would not do. There was protocol to follow. And Nanami lived for protocol. So he went up to the door, squared his shoulders and knocked.

God he hoped the giant bear was asleep.

"Come in!" Yaga's gruff voice called. Nanami opened the door. Yaga was, as usual during this time of the evening, busy sewing. He was currently adding stitching to the ears of something that vaguely resembled a big eyed cat. Nanami looked at its dead button eyes and shivered.

"My report from today sir."

Yaga put his needle and thread down just long enough to take the binder from him. "You're doing good work out there Nanami. Keep it up." Normally Nanami would have felt a spike in his pride at having his dedicated work ethic praised like that, but he was wet, his shoes were squeaking like murdered rubber ducks, and he wanted to go home.

"Hey, since you're going past the second year dorms, I want you to take this to Gojo Satoru." There was a little sneer in his voice at the name that made Nanami think that Gojo must currently be occupying pride of place on Yaga's shit list. Yaga held out a black dossier to him. Nanami reluctantly took the folder, mentally cursing his luck. Because he wasn't in the mood to play errand boy right now.

And he definitely didn't want to see Gojo Satoru.

But orders were orders, and Nanami was nothing if not an obedient student. So he said, "Yes sir," and turned to leave.

The big plush bear in the corner started giggling at him, as if it knew how he felt and was experiencing glee at his obvious discomfort.

Nanami practically bolted from the office.

To be continued…