To Know You Pt.3 | OldestSon!Nanami x YoungestDaughter!Reader
Note: I truly appreciate all the support I get. Although this piece is very self-indulgent, I know many of you can relate (one way or another). I want to make this into a series (with versions on Gojo or Geto, but that depends). How does that sound? Let me know!
Also sincerely sorry for how long this took. I wrote two different parts in one so I can post them close in date.
Also, I do know ChatGPT uses a lot of em dashes and big words, but I promise I don’t use ChatGPT or AI for writing. Writing has been a huge part of me since I was little and I find it disrespectful to my passion to use it. That being said, I like using em dashes, semicolons, and other (sometimes I am grammatically wrong... I'm human). I was scared to use them in my first two parts because I didn’t want to be asked if I used AI when I don’t. But now that I'm over that fear, I can only pray writing continues to be cherished without being suspected of AI assistance. Remember: AI copies us humans, and can never replace us.
Let’s get into it! <3
Word count: 9k+
Genre: Angst, Hurt, Comfort/Fluff, A touch/sprinkle of suggestive content (MDNI),
Warnings: Grammar mistakes (I'll fix it), COVID, cursing, fighting, mentions of father issues, and talks about food
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
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OldestSon!Nanami and YoungestDaughter!Reader having growing differences and unspoken issues. Usually you’d sort it out, but Kento being a little too dismissive of his past and you being too avoidant about your worries quickly snowballed. As you bottled up your hurt, Nanami assumed your behavior to be hinting at your disinterest and slightly spoiled nature. As Nanami stayed hesitant on letting you in, you assumed he was set on staying “professional” with the marriage. And assumptions were never good. Better to communicate, right?
OldestSon!Nanami and YoungestDaughter!Reader taking turns with making meals. With their busy schedules, it is difficult to cook and eat together, but they try.
OldestSon!Nanami who wakes up earlier than you one day, seeing you exhausted from the night of hard work. He’s noticed you like to take on a lot of responsibility, rarely asking others to do things for you and always willing to help others. Maybe it was your lack of trust in others? He didn’t know. What he did know was that it spilled into the home. You’d be working on it at home! He’s done that too, but you’d dedicate half the day for it!
You’d skip meals and just… work. He’s seen you make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, only to eat barely half and leave to work. Only the universe knows how much you eat, if at all, at your workplace.
Do you even know how to balance your life? Have you never been taught to? Why are you so… willing to give you all for everything else, when you leave nothing for yourself?
OldestSon!Nanami’s work ends much early on a random day and after noticing your empty lunchbox at home, he decides to give it to you. He fills it up with his own recipe, quickly whipping up something to feed you. Your husband of two months walks into your workplace, asking the front desk for you, only to see their shocked faces. He assumed it was because it was almost 5 PM and he just brought your lunch.
“She’s married?” Or not…
They whispered amongst themselves as he left to your floor (he heard them). The other one just shrugs with a nod, “Yeah, I dunno. Wish she wasn’t.”
He could help but glare at them a little. Who are they to talk about your marriage? Then he hears a familiar voice. OldestSon!Nanami notices you at someone’s desk (a man but that didn’t matter to him), seemingly helping him with his work. Another person is behind you, also looking like they’re waiting for your attention. Nanami tries not to shake his head. You and your workaholic behaviors.
Nanami notices the silent, exasperated sigh that leaves your lips as you take the mouse from the man’s hands, easily taking control. You effortlessly glide around the screen, mocking up an impressive fix for the content. “There,” you say, “Please turn it in now. They’re waiting.”
OldestSon!Nanami who noticed you see the man mark the document with only his name. You didn’t seem to care. You only turn around, telling the other person, “Give me 10 minutes.” Nanami, who calls for your name and many heads fly to him. Okay. What the hell?
“Oh, hey… What’s wrong?” you ask, walking to him. He shakes his head, lifting up your lunchbox and your gasp. He felt that way your hands trembled when gently taking the full-packed lunch in your hands.
“Aw, thanks. You didn’t have to,” you whisper, and he could tell from your voice that you were utterly exhausted and beat. The tinge of usually sweetness was replaced with its fake compensating syrupy one. Had he been someone else, he would think you’re fine. You’re not.
“Did you not take a lunch break?” he asks, not skipping a beat. Your brows twitch up, your head moving millimeters to the right, looking around him.
In a low voice you reply, “I’m just a bit caught up between work right now, so I forgot.”
“You seem to be forgetting your meals a lot these days,” he sighs, pulling at the cuff of his sleeve. Without giving you the chance to reply, he fans his arm out, signalling to start walking, “Come. You’re eating with me.”
“No- I- Wait,” you whisper, pulling back, “I can’t. I’m busy.” You look behind you, awkwardly smiling and nodding at your concerned juniors. One good look and Nanami could already tell, half of them only wanted to talk to you for help. (In their defense, their boss was a little too mean and scary to ask for help.) Are you the only leader?
“You’re the leader, right? Take a half an hour break and come back. Simple,” he replies, tone unwavering and clear. To him it was simple. What needs to get done, needs to get done. No ifs, ands, or buts. If you need a lunch break, you take one. If you need to monitor tasks, you do that.
“It's not that simple, Nanami,” you say. And hell, his name falls off your mouth so prettily. If he could he would’ve dropped on his knees to hear you whisper his name again. But now was not the time.
“Not that simple? It’s already 5 PM, 5:37 to be exact. And if I do not pick you up, you usually board the subway around this time. So, what’s keeping you busy? Why not even give yourself 5 minutes to relax?”
“Work is work. I’m helping a few juniors get back on track after their break.” Before you can take a proper step, your phone rings, the phone vibrating on the marble table. Your eyes trace back to the device, thinking to answer it. But before you can reach it, Nanami stands in front.
“Eat,” he mutters, quiet, but stern. You look up to see his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. You look back at the crowd that forms around one work computer.
“They can wait. The company won’t run dead if you’re not there. It shouldn’t,” he says, pushing your phone further away from you. You stay silent, seemingly weighing out your options. He doesn’t push anymore. If you truly weren’t hungry, he wasn’t going to force feed you. Still…
“I made it,” he whispers and immediately he sees your eyes widen with a glow. Your hands reach out to grab the cuff of his sleeve, voice pitched higher, “I’ll eat it!”
“You should’ve started with that,” you whisper, your hair drapes in front of your eyes, covering them from his view. Nanami chuckles at the tiniest purse of your lips. He reaches out to almost, almost tuck your hair behind your ear, but he stops. I’ll scare her, he thought, retracting his hands to scratch his neck.
Without missing a beat, you tell him to follow you into your office. Nanami notices the stares you two get as you both walk by: surprise, curiosity, and envy. Some even a mix. His tongue silently clicks in annoyance at their nosiness.
One particular man – the one ‘discreetly’ eyeing him up and down – did bother him, who looked as if he’d been stabbed and flung around by his necktie. When you wave at him, passing by with a kind smile, he hurriedly waves back, as if you’d slip away. He’s into her. Or… just a weird guy.
OldestSon!Nanami who pulls a chair for you without even thinking about it, something he’s grown up seeing his father do for his mother. It stuck with him too. Nanami would do it often when you both go out, but not so much at home. I should though. Now that he thinks about it. Why do you always make sure you sit last? Even when Nanami served. Not much to think about either. It’s bare minimum to pull a chair for someone.
But oh, brother, were you taken aback. He wondered the reason behind the slightest glimmering twitch of your eyes when you shyly sit down in the chair. Despite offering him bites, Nanami shakes his head, pointing for you to eat it all. Until the end, he ensures you eat each and every bite, watching you like a hawk. You felt like a kid being scolded by their parents for not eating.
You attempt to make a conversation throughout the one-sided lunch (or dinner perhaps), asking questions such as “How was your day?” “Did you eat?” or “How is work going?” An unfortunate, but decent set for you two, all which end up in near silence. You weren’t going to make him talk if he didn’t want to. As you hide the bigger-than-you-expected last bite with your hand, you miss the way Nanami grins. A full-set of teeth grin at your full cheeks that you desperately tried to hide from him. You miss the mutter of “cute” that leaves his lips.
When you finally leave at 6:22 PM, OldestSon!Nanami picks you up. Two cold drinks in the front seat – one with ice. He does not give you the cold shoulder nor does he point out how long you’ve made him wait. Your apology was acknowledged and then he tells you to nap in the car. To him, it’s just you that matters, not how long you’ve stayed behind. He cares, but he wasn’t going to make you feel as though you could not care for yourself. (Even if a part of him wanted to scold you for ignoring your health, he knew his boundaries with you.)
You were in and out of consciousness, barely remembering what you said in the car. But Nanami remembered. Color palettes, typefaces, and spreads. He carefully listened to your half an hour long of mumbles and silence, finding it quite interesting that you speak more now that you’re tired. Isn’t it usually the opposite?
If there was one thing Nanami never experienced nor expected, it was the sleepy mutters about warm white being different from cool white – you claimed it was important for the look. Regardless, you somehow ended up in your bed a couple hours later as Nanami sat upright beside you, reading. Noticing your stretching limbs, he gets out of bed, returning with the same refreshment in his hands.
A couple glances exchange between you two before he points to the drink, “I took it out of the fridge 10 minutes ago.” After that refreshment, you were out like a light, body relaxing in his presence.
YoungestDaughter!Reader, the next week, brings Nanami food, surprising him. He already had the lunchbox you made him, but she brought desserts. You hold up the brown bags, waving it at him when he sees you.
You pass by all the employees that look at her with questions and curiosity, wondering who she was. Their murmurs and whispers in the space come to a stop once Gojo yells across the room, “Well if it isn’t Nanami’s sweetheart!”
Then the room gasped, mouth hung wide open with flies to enter. Nanami discreetly curses out Gojo as he firmly lays a shoulder on the white-haired man’s shoulder to stop him from running towards you. She’s my wife, not his.
Gojo reconvenes to his beeline towards you and succeeds in gently shoving away Nanami’s hold. Before he can ask, Gojo beats him to it, “What’s in the bags?”
His figure looming over you, curiosity oozing out of him. He pokes his nose towards the two brown bags, only for you to pull it away.
“I made croissants and cookies.” You hold them with care, worried about accidentally dropping them. That was all it took for Nanami’s stomach to jump into flutters. Gojo’s eyes widen as he begins to ask for one, requesting, “I haven’t had anything sweet since yesterday.” Lies. He had caramel drop a couple hours ago to ease his sweet tooth, a daily routine between him and Geto.
With a giggle, you hand him the bags, whispering, “I couldn’t make enough for everyone, so I put names on them. I figured all of Nanami’s friends and juniors work here, so why not give it all at once. Can I trust you to discreetly hand them out?”
Gojo gives you a snap of his fingers and nods his head, “On it, Boss.” Gently taking away the bag in your hands, he passes by everyone’s curious gaze without giving it much thought. He’s not oblivious to them, he simply did not seem to care. You suppose it is a part of his popular, alway-coming-out-on-the-top background. Nanami watches as Gojo takes away the treats that he thought you made for him.
Much to Nanami’s relief, as much as he tried to internally deny feeling dejected from not getting pastries, you pull out a small brown bag to give him. A cute ribbon sticker sealing the bag. For me? He thanks you and takes it into his hands, telling you he’ll eat it when he goes on break later. Part of you wished to see his reaction live, but you didn’t want to risk making things awkward.
As you ask Nanami if you can host a party for friends, your phone vibrates with an influx of messages of gratitudes and detailed appreciation of your baking skills (Gojo and Yuuji). Nanami nods his head, giving you a calm, “Go ahead,” on hosting.
YoungestDaughter!Reader, who likes hosting but rarely gets the chance considering most of your other siblings insisted on being one the to do so. So you jumped on the inside at his nod, praying the house party goes well. Back in your college days, you were surrounded by friends who were always willing to hang out as a bunch – a little family you could say. One day at Ophenia’s, one day at yours, and so on so forth. Now, you rarely get the chance to hang out all together, as you were all busy with your individual lives. The promise to hang out every year at least once all together, still stays true nonetheless.
Hosting was easier said than done, especially when inviting people with busy schedules. After a series of texts and “how abouts,” you land on the Saturday the week after, giving you about a week and a half to prepare.
It was a big day for you, bigger than most because you needed to make sure everything was perfect. The food, the drinks, and the house. Top-notch perfect. If it isn’t, then you believed they’d hate you, would hate coming over. You invited all his friends over, the ones from his incredibly tiny, prestigious high school and his juniors from said high school (most also in his company or partners).
To put off some pressure, you invited one of your friends, Ophenia, but to your luck she has to leave for a business trip that evening. Instead, she comes over with a packed bag to help and then head out to catch the subway. So sweet of her.
As for Nanami, he worked from his home office, sending emails, writing reports, and contacting his partners. You hadn't said a word to him since the morning, except for the “hello” during breakfast. Seeing your slight glare as he accidentally got in your way in the kitchen was enough to send him right back out. A light shudder went down his back as you watched him grab a bowl of nuts, eyes sharp and face devoid of emotion. He could help but wonder if you are acting this way because you are annoyed and stressed about hosting.
To answer: Nope. You are fine. Maybe a bit nervous and obsessed with perfection, but you aren’t acting out of stress or anger.
The instances where he did go back near the kitchen (not inside), he witnessed your work method. Prep. Start. Clean as you go. Next step. Repeat until done.
OldestSon!Nanami saw you work like a robot, refusing to let him help even when he suggested. You have seen him cook before and know what it tastes like, so why not?
“Well… I can’t focus if someone else is in the kitchen,” you said. Fair, but why? Are you used to having a room to yourself? Is it that much of a bother if someone’s there?
Ding dong! Ophenia’s presence graced you with what you needed, a familiar connection and calm support. Looking at the recipes you set out, she knew to get to work on finishing touches. You already made sure everything was set. You’d prepped the table and most of the entrees and appetizers were done, except for the desserts.
As if the kitchen elves couldn’t laugh enough at Nanami’s terrible kitchen luck, his heart burned when you easily let Ophenia join you in the cooking adventure. But how can you possibly tell Nanami that him standing nearby scared you? Not from fear, but the nervousness about his focus on you.
Ophenia, seeing your laser-focused eyes and quick pace, knew what to do to quell your worries. Put on nostalgic music, crack a joke when the time is right, and just do the work. In your own words, “rest is for the weak.”
“Remember that one time- bahaha!- In the late night bodega, that one time- hahaha! the guy was like,” Ophenia did a huge motion with the bowl full of batter, one hand scooping up invisible air and the other mixing the bowl.” Next thing that fills the kitchen are both of you dying laughing from one of the thousands inside jokes you two share.
“It was definitely- hahaha!- a gesture. I literally never expected that, not from the cook,” you respond, eyes teary from laughing breathlessly. Nanami’s never heard you laugh so wholeheartedly before. In the 2-3 months you’ve been together, he’s never made you laugh — not the kind that has you wheezing for air. He’s only heard breathy, light giggles. From that moment alone, despite smiling to himself from your contagious laugh, Nanami felt his heart burn from a foreign sticky ache.
YoungestDaughter!Reader has a whole list of items to serve: Tiramisu, cookies, chicken sandwiches, curry, meat platter, yellow rice, flatbread, salad, and a strawberry lemonade. You were booked and busy. No time to spare.
Then it happens, the tray of cookies is left in the oven for too long and... They’re too hard – inedible for hosting. He saw the disappointment spring from your eyes, the tiniest sigh as you immediately went to toss them away. Beelining for the trash.
“Don’t,” he says, calling out from his seat. Your brows furrowed and you huffed, sliding the overbaked cookies in the tray.
“They’re bad. I can't serve this.” You mutter to yourself, picking up one of the cookies and tossing it back onto the tray. Nanami stands up from his seat, carefully making his way to you. As you attempt to, once again, toss them in the trash, he holds you back with his fingers firm on your shoulder, “Breathe. They’re just cookies. It won’t make a difference.” Wrong reply. Okay, maybe not wrong, rather it didn’t help the situation or quell your worry.
Had it not been for the snicker from Ophenia he would’ve thought you were beginning to calm down for how quiet you were.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get more chocolate chips. I’ll get store bought cookie dough and you bake them however you want,” and Ophenia is out the door.
“You could have asked me to help, you know?” he says, “But I guess you’re picky with who.” It wasn’t meant to be serious.
You don’t reply, not having one to give him. He accidentally takes it as you being angry with him. He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. You want it all perfect and to be able to do it all yourself. Without any help. Although Ophenia did help, you barely let her do 30% of the workload, she was there for moral support and to hang out. To help you breathe in the chaos of your mind. After the long seconds of silence, he gently takes the tray from your hands and sighs as he packs them in a tin.
YoungestDaughter!Reader, who knew herself inside out. As much as you loved cooking and baking, if one step went wrong, you’ll begin spiraling.
One time you yelled at your sibling for getting in your way in the kitchen, feeling overwhelmed from the constant in and outs of your family when you were baking. Never again. You guys fought as young kids, but the older you got the more calm you all became, especially with all the yelling that already went on in the household. The moment your voice raised, you felt like the one person you swore to never be like: your dad.
He, too, calmed in his anger as he grew older, but it doesn’t change that he did raise his voice. Raise it with such undefeated power, it makes you stop out of fear – not respect or understanding of wrongdoings. So, as foolish as it seems, you never want to raise your voice or be short with Nanami. Not him. Not the man who vowed to be with you through thick and thin. Not over some baking. And certainly not right before his friends were about to come over.
So as Nanami prevents you from wasting cookies (that were just a little overbaked - hard really), you can feel the souring mood of the house. So you try to make it better. It was your fault, no?
“Thank you for packing them up,” you whisper, stirring the pot of chicken curry beside him. He hums, nodding his head, “Better to save them for ourselves instead.” “Yeah.”
“Do you like cookies?” “No, not really.” You hum at his answer and then silence. Then should I be the only one eating them? Don’t want to force him to eat them just because I made it. The room becomes totally silent with the light music in the background, until Ophenia comes back with the dough.
Ophenia notices the deeper furrows of brows and tense mood. Glancing at Nanami, she puts two and two together, but decides not to push it. She’d rather talk to you separately and listen. Instead, she gives you space and sets the napkins on the table and puts up some decorations. Nanami helped set up the plates, noticing the time was ticking and the guest could arrive anytime. He also did not want to be completely useless.
As Ophenia left, you gave her a bag of fresh cookies and containers full of food. You touch her shoulder and wish her the best, “Have a safe train ride! Thank you so, so much for today. I wish you could’ve stayed.”
She coos at you, “Aw, of course, cutie! And it’s okay! Next time, I’ll join.” And once she leaves, the calm gets replaced with an eerie cold. Neither you nor Nanami talk, not until the doorbell rings. You were setting the food and drinks dining table and the common room.
YoungestDaughter!Reader, who takes a deep breath, trying to overcome the hurt left behind by the silence. Treading behind Nanami, you both greet your first guests: Yuuji, Nobara, and Megumi. They were already in the area, shopping together – most just Nobara and Yuuji – but they came a tad early to help set up.
“That’s truly kind of you all, but everything is already set,” you smile. Megumi hands you a gift bag, which you accept with grace.
“It’s not much, but we’d hate to come empty handed,” Nobara says, with Yuuji vigorously nodding along at her. Nanami smiles, thanking her. He tells them to come in and sit wherever.
Slowly the others trickled in. The next guests were Shoko, Utahime, Maki, and Yuki, followed by Choso and Yaga. A while later, Toji, Sukuna, and Uraume come, then, eventually, Gojo and Geto, making them the final guests to arrive. The others had other business to take care of. Each group brought a small gift for being invited.
YoungestDaughter!Reader, who immediately tells everyone to eat and take however much they want. And once they saw the food? Flabbergasted. All of this? Prepped and cooked all for them. The kitchen counter was filled with food, leaving the dining table nicely decorated with the tableware. The desserts were left to the side, to have anytime after dinner. You don’t sit with them, encouraging them all to sit at the table. Yuuji, Nobara, Maki, Yuta, and Megumi voluntarily go sit in the common room, something you assumed they did growing up – you did too. You remember being told to sit in the kid’s section. Fun times really.
YoungestDaughter!Reader, who notices Nanami also not sitting down. You hesitantly go to him, leaning up on your toes, to whisper, “You should sit and eat.” He looks back down at you, eyes dropping to your lips to understand, amidst the noise, “You too.”
But there is only one more seat, so you tell him to sit first.
YoungestDaughter!Reader growing up in a household where those older than you have to eat first, then the younger ones. Usually, the children and young adults sit at a different table or room. Assuming it was the same for everyone invited, you don't question half the guests going to the common room to eat.
You somehow manage to make Nanami sit in his seat, to eat with his friends, and catch up. Still, it doesn't take long at all for Nanami to notice your sly plan. He leaves to room only to return with another chair, albeit it looked out of place, for you to sit and eat, right beside him.
OldestSon!Nanami who would never involve personal feelings with your health. Yes, he was kind of put off by today, but that’s for him to deal with and understand with you later. You hadn’t eaten all morning and evening, and he was worried you were going to faint. You didn’t even get yourself enough food, but he isn’t going to force you to eat more than your fill.
He leans into your ears, whispering, “Don’t you want some more?” You look at him to say, “I’m waiting for everyone to get their fill first.” Hmm… Still, you need to eat, he thought, but only mutters a “Get more when you can.”
YoungestDaughter!Reader who is a little on edge, terrified of making the hosting a horrible one, so you ask each and every person about their well being and day. Fast forward to everyone sitting in the common room – some on the couch, some on the floor or chairs. Yuuji went to ask if he can explore the house, letting him do so with Nobara. You even tell them about the games in your office. They come back out with Uno and a couple board games, letting the games be to join the conversation. You all were chatting about memories and jumping through random topics. One minute it was about volleyball, the next it was about college. What you didn’t expect was to talk about high school.
OldestSon!Nanami who never fully got over his high school trauma. He dismisses any talks about the high school incident, especially from those that did not experience it firsthand. All he says is, “The past is the past.” He’ll give a couple sentences about it, max.
YoungestDaughter!Reader who also will never forget your high school life. Rather than dismissing anything, you only bring out the good parts and forcibly hides away the rest. You tried to get over it – it was so, so long ago. Besides, you lived through college, making high school just a little easier to forget. Until someone brings it up.
“Wait, college is too recent for you. What were you like in high school?” Shoko asks, pushing her long hair away from her face. You look in the air, pondering for a bit about who you were, the version of you that became less prominent under the layers of new yous.
“I was actually kind of, well, goth and an introvert. Still am with my music and style. And I kept to myself a lot because of my studies.”
“You would’ve fit right in with Nanami then,” Shoko jokes, sipping from her glass. Geto chuckles, nodding along, “True, but both of you are introverts so no chance of talking.”
You take a glance at Nanami, only to notice him zoning in on his beverage, not looking up from it, as if he wanted to not be there.
“Wait, when did you graduate?” Yuuji asks, jumping from curiosity. You reply with your year and Nanami’s friends all gasp. “So young... I'm old...” “Just like us.”
“My final year was a bit intense,” you add on, picking at the little string at the end of your sleeve.
“Tell me about it,” Gojo dryly laughs.
“How was high school for you guys? And did graduation end up okay? No one missed it, right?,” you ask, hands holding onto your plate of cookies, extremely curious about Nanami's high school life. Maybe a little too excited with the glimmer in your eyes. Wrong question. You immediately felt the tension pull into the room.
“Great, good. Yeah… We all went to the same high school, so you can only imagine the chaos. Graduation was fun too, right? I don't think anyone... skipped it.” Gojo answered, offering you a kind smile. The rest hum along, busying themselves with their drinks. You noticed Geto particularly drifting off, his demeanor changing entirely as he chugs down the strawberry lemonade, chewing the bits of strawberry.
You attempt to ease the mood with fun memories. Your high school was… pretty bad, but you still remember the good memories. You’d rather never speak about the horrible ones. You buried them in a casket not a time capsule.
With a smile plastered on to lighten the mood, you comment, “Nothing exciting? Any trips or crazy events? I remember my high school ended off with a bang too.” Another mistake. All eyes widen and gather around to solely focus on you, including Nanami’s furrowed ones. Your stomach twists as no one utters a word for a couple seconds. They all stare as if you’d committed an unforgivable deed.
“That’s one way to put it,” Geto scoffs, “Great joke you made there.”
Your stomach sank as Geto’s eyes slightly bore into you, his purple eyes holding fire in the light. Gojo elbows him, whispering something into his ear. Looking around you try to understand what went wrong. Was it me? Did something happen during high school? What’s going on?
Your eyes go to Nanami, hoping for an explanation, only to receive a look of distance. His jaw clenched and eyes dragging low to the lemonade in his hand.
“So, how exactly did your school end with a bang?” Geto calmly asks, a kind smile strapped to his face. If it weren’t for the enunciation of the end or the tiniest sharp glint in his eyes, you would’ve thought he was truly curious.
“Geto,” Shoko calls out, looking at him with a warning before looking at you.
“Hope it was fun,” Shoko interrupts, looking at him with a warning before looking at you, “High school was an up-and-down journey. Growing, you know?.”
Still, you adjust in your seat, answering the question as if nothing was wrong. That’s something you were good at. Acting.
“Oh, yeah. I somehow graduated at the top 1% of my school and managed to make the most of whatever happened. COVID was still affecting my class, so our graduation was less than great, but we all survived,” you giggle, picking at your fingernails and heart racing a million miles.
Yet another mistake.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Geto whispers under his breath, perhaps hoping to be quiet enough, but it still reaches my ears. The chill in the room travels straight down my spine as the quietness immediately after tells me what to do. To shut up. What’s wrong?
“Stop it,” Gojo whispered to him, patting his back. Behind him, Yuuji asks himself, “Somehow?” However, you were too busy looking at Nanami's friends – none looking back – to notice or answer him.
Sighing, Geto gets up from the couch, claiming to get another glass of lemonade in the kitchen. Gojo follows suit. There is no lemonade in the kitchen. It’s only here.
“I’ll refill the lemonade. There’s more on the kitchen counter,” you lie, taking the empty jug in your hands. Albeit it was in the fridge, but no one knew. With a glance at Nanami, you notice his clenched jaw and tightened lips. With a shaking breath, you enter the kitchen without making much noise, a light back-and-forth conversation reaches my ears.
Geto held the plastic tight in his hands, so tight it cracked, “Why the hell would that be a good joke?!” Gojo shrugs, rubbing the other’s arm, “It was probably unintentional.”
“Three in a row?” Geto glares, seething, “Three!”
Your eyes lock with Gojo as you fully step inside and he clears his throat. Pretending as if you heard nothing at all, you give them a gentle smile.
“I thought you wouldn’t be able to find the lemonade,” you say, walking right past them to the fridge. With no eye contact and quick on your feet, you pull open the fridge. As silence spreads through the kitchen, you decide to quietly refill the jug. Pulling a new cup, you pour the lemonade, placing a lemon on the rim, and try to hand it to Geto.
“I don’t need it,” Geto snapped, voice more curt than usual, “But that’s kind of you.”
Looking up, you nod, “Okay, uh, are you sure? It’s refreshing.”
“I’m refreshed enough for the day,” he says, tightening his lips and staring back with grim eyes. Is he mad at me? You don’t know how to quite respond, entirely confused about what happened in the span of 5 minutes.
“We’re okay,” Gojo attempts to smile, but you can see the corners of his lips twitching, “We’re talking about something private, so we’d appreciate to be alone.” Oh! Right.
Your eyes widen and you quickly nod, rushing out with the jug of lemonade in your hands. Just when you exit the kitchen you hear Gojo hiss, “That was mean. I know her joke was out of line but-”
Your heart tightens as you head to the common room, everyone still gathered, but the space was duller than the beginning. Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi were talking amongst themselves, huddling to play a game of Uno, having their own fun as Yuuta and Maki played chess. Nanami was nowhere to be found and the others were talking amongst themselves, their eyes immediately going to you when entering.
“I got more lemonade,” You say, setting it on the table with a light thud.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Utahime asks, stroking her neck. You nod back a yes.
“Were the jokes intentional?” Her voice laid out. Not curt but not light.
“The jokes about my high school?” you question, brows flicking up. They all nod in return. You take a second to think of an appropriate answer, “No? I made the jokes, yes, but it only had to do with my experience. Why?”
Shoko shakes her head, “No, I think we all misunderstood your jokes. Sorry about that. Something- I think it’ll be best if you and Nanami talk about it.”
Tilting your head, with squinted eyes, you look back. Before you can say anything, Shoko gets up and walks to you, whispering, “He looked a little put off? I’m not sure. I don’t want to assume, but you might want to talk to him.”
My lips part and I nod, “Oh, I wondered but didn’t want to assume either. Thank you. And I’m sorry for making you all uncomfortable.”
Shoko smiles and you and the party brighten up, until Geto and Gojo return. As hard as they try to hide their behavior, the room immediately grew cold again, at least for those aware of the current predicament.
The next 15 minutes go by in a blur, barely any conversation and most of the noise coming from those playing board games. You hesitate to initiate any of the talks, deeply afraid of saying the wrong things.
When you try to talk to Geto, all you get back are sentences that end the conversation right then and there. Even Gojo seemed to be avoiding your gaze, so you turn passive in the dimming mood. Nanami comes into the room, not uttering a word and sitting in silence.
A couple minutes later, Shoko tells you she must leave to rest up until her early meeting the next day. Once she said so, everyone else also began to pack up to leave. You hear shuffling, but no banter, something that you were not used to.
YoungestDaughter!Reader who was used to banter and 20 minute stallings before someone left. But with the awkward air, you decided not to make people stay longer than they’d like to. You notice Geto and Gojo particularly trying to leave earlier than others. Bidding you a quick goodbye and a slightly longer one to Nanami. Even though you rationalize it yourself, that they know him more and feel more comfortable, you know better. They must be angry about earlier.
As everyone begins to leave to the front door, you notice the line of desserts, untouched. No one ate the desserts… But I also didn’t remind them
You call out for them and tell them all to wait, “Just five minutes. It won’t take longer. I promise.” You try to ignore the burn in your heart at the way the hosting ended – horrible and embarrassing. Packing each one of them some desserts and some of the leftovers, you try to soothe the ache by telling yourself that maybe they at least enjoyed the food. To make them look pretty you fetch scissors and ribbon from your studio, quickly tying the desert box with a bow.
One by one, they all left with the packed food, some a little quieter than the others. Every so often, you look at Nanami to gauge his reaction, but he bid them all goodbye normally. Geto and Gojo were the last to leave, despite being the first to want to leave. They bid Nanami and you – more so Nanami – goodbye again, avoiding eye contact with you. Immediately as the front door shut, Nanami walked away towards the room.
Party’s over.
With that, a hole is left behind in your heart as you stand with your head lowered. Before they can fully enter the car, you open the front door and call out for Geto. He turns around, the same look in his eyes, ones that you knew to read. He wanted to stay away from you, perhaps finding you annoying or repulsive. You step out with slippers, nearing them.
“I don’t know what I said, I think it was the comment about high school. I just want to apologize. I know we're not friends and I don’t know what you went through, so I’m deeply sorry. I didn’t mean to cause anything discomfort,” you say, hands clasped behind you.
“You- You don’t know?” he quietly asks, closing his eyes and scratching the bridge of his nose. Quickly glancing at the white-haired man behind him, you shake your head. Know what?
“Huh? Like that you were Nanami’s upperclassmen? Yes, I knew.” They both look at each other and then me, a big sigh leaving both their lips. You don’t push for an answer or explanation.
“About, um, nothing, nevermind,” Gojo licks his lips, adjusting his shirt.
“Oh, okay. But, um, yeah, I wanted to crack a joke, but I’ll do better. I’m really sorry. I was, um, I hope you still enjoyed the party. Please let me know about things like this. I’m totally fine with you calling me out if I make you uncomfortable and all.”
Geto’s eyes soften almost immediately as you apologize again. He was at a loss for words, assuming Nanami had already told you. They all thought he did, especially because of Haibara. His anger quickly dissipated as his heart squeezed remembering the tone he used in the later half of the night
“Crap, no it’s my fault. I- I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you straight up. I'm a grown man,” he admits, scratching his neck. Gojo nods along, verbally agreeing. He ruffles your hair and apologizes for not meditating better.
When the atmosphere got much better than before, you remember something. After telling them to wait one second, you return with another plastic bag. This time it was filled with strawberry and apricot thumbprint cookies.
“I made extra the day before but didn’t make enough since the first batch had no sugar. But I remembered you really like them so,” you trail off, hands offering the cookies to Gojo to hint it’s his to take.
Gojo’s eyes light up, glimmering in the sunset. With a growing smile, he holds his arms out, immediately hugging you and taking you by surprise.
“I should’ve been the one to wife you up,” he cries out, whining. He swayed you back and forth in his arms, crying about your being his sweetest girl, which you couldn’t help but heat up at – out of embarrassment and odd appreciation.
“You’ll give him a sugar rush. I can’t deal with him tonight,” Geto jokes, ripping Gojo away from you by the back of his collar. The white-haired man pouts as he is forced to do so.
You tilt your head, wondering, “Wait, do you guys live together?” After a beat of silence, they both nod, Gojo replying with, “Yeah, we’ve been roommates since high school. It’s like we’re a couple.” He flashes you a playful grin, showing his canines.
“That’s a really long time… Wow,” you hum, pondering in your thoughts. One thought jumps to another and you ask yourself… Are they-
But before your thoughts go anywhere, you realize how long you’ve stalled them. You quickly let them go, telling them to drive home safe and sound before going back inside. Gojo continues to wave, yelling one last “thank you!” as he drove the car with one hand.
After returning, Nanami didn’t utter a single word to you. You both cleaned up the place immediately, but no words were exchanged. Only the music in the background prevents the house from being dead as a cockroach. After an hour, only the desserts were left to pack, and you do just that. Nanami went in and out of the area, seemingly looking for something. You cannot make out the mutters he whispers to himself as he paces around the different rooms. Then he’s gone for a few minutes before he comes back.
“Please don’t touch my pictures next time,” he ordered as soon as he entered the room, clear and cut-throat. You were in the middle of putting away the tiramisu and with a twist of your neck, you tilt your head. But I didn’t. I only went there for scissors and ribbons.
“Huh? What? I didn’t touch it,” you say as your hands stop moving.
“Just- It’s childish and rude. I know you really want to know more about me, but just don’t touch my things next time,” he mutters, wiping his face. He’d gotten used to his siblings touching his things as teens, but he never did like it.
Hurt by his quick judgement, especially after the silent treatment, you snapped with an arm on your hip, “Okay, but I didn’t. What did I even do?”
“Nothing,” he quips, his eyes piercing through you, “Clearly nothing.”
Your lips twitch as you stare at him with widened eyes, “Nana-, where is this coming from? I didn’t touch anything.”
“It was in your office. You don’t have to lie about it. I don’t know if you got curious from the weird comment you made about high school but don’t touch my photobook. Not this one, alright? Please.” and without giving you a chance to reply, he leaves the room. Leaves you standing with an aching heart and burning eyes – holding the tiramisu that you specifically made for him and he never ate.
“Okay. I won’t,” you whisper, not sure if Nanami even heard you.
You always hated when people assume things without knowing your side, especially the ones close to you. You hated having to swallow your words to not sound as though you were trying to argue or prove yourself correct. Even if you were in the right, you feared accidentally hurting others. So, when fingers were pointed at you, you’d stand your ground while eggshells surrounded you. Carefully choosing your words and looking at their reactions. Crafting a response to ease the situation. After all, that’s also what you’ve done growing up. Carefully crafting your reaction and response whenever your parents fought and came to you for an ultimatum. Careful with your words and actions as a kid so your older siblings do not get in trouble, because “they are in charge of you.” Over 20 years later, the habit diminished, but did not disappear.
OldestSon!Nanami who later that night gets a text from Yuuji reading, “Nanamin!! I’m so so sorry but I opened your photobook thinking it was your wedding pics! If you can’t find it, MAAAYBE it's in the studio office. I asked about it and she said to ask you but I couldn’t find you so I just chose the white one that said best moments. ”
“Turns out it WASN’T so sorry! I forgot it when picking up board games with Nobara from the studio,” Yuuji typed, sending a picture of a random man bawling his eyes out and his hands clasped over his head.
I messed up, Nanami thought. And he was right. He did.
When he quietly enters the kitchen again, he catches you on the phone talking ever-so-softly. His heart aches at the way he’s noticed you settling with the eggshells all around you while adjusting to this… loveless? weird? limboed? marriage. You leave the room when he’s about to sleep and have yet to quell your hobbies. You joke with hesitation, as if one joke will bother him. You never mix your clothes. Never sit too close to him. Never ask him for favors. Never expect much. Never even tell him your worries.
Never anything too big, just the tiniest favors, like buying bread on the way home. But never more.
“I messed up so bad,” you whisper, hitting your own head with your palm.
“No. I know, but I- He was clearly embarrassed. I said all that in front of his friends.” Every time you spoke, you spilled guilt from within, as if you committed the worst crime.
Turning your head, you notice Nanami standing there. You quickly bid Ophenia goodbye, telling her you’ll talk later, and get up to walk towards him.
“I thought you were sleeping,” you say, voice laced with a distant edge. Nanami shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek as you even avoid eye contact.
“I packed away all of the food and dessert. You don't have to eat them if you don’t want to, but I would appreciate it,” you mumble, standing right beside him. Before you can leave he turns and calls your name.
“Let’s head out together tomorrow… like usual,” he says. He wants to say more, but the words get stuck in his throat. What do I even say? And all you do is nod before heading to bed.
YoungestDaughter!Reader who does stand up for herself, but not in the ways it’s seen or bold. If you told someone the truth, why break your back over trying to prove yourself? If they believe in a lie, even when you told them otherwise, then so be it. You’d never beg someone to believe you or take you back. As relaxed and calm you may be, it doesn’t mean you are easy to manipulate or hurt.
Nanami is not any better. He, too, has his doubts and walls. He believes you wouldn’t like him, not in the way he once wished to be in his 20s. He’s older now and he has realistic expectations.. Now that you are married, he would never look at another woman. Never. Out of respect and a shame in his heart. He believes you’re the most beautiful, kindest out there. And others?
They… aren’t you.
And whatever this sticky feeling was, Nanami didn’t want to jump in it. He doesn’t love you. He just… would never look at another. Never. Cross his heart and he hopes to die.
OldestSon!Nanami who gets chewed out by Satoru and Suguru because they couldn’t believe he hadn't told you yet. They can’t believe he let you feel cornered, as if you were in the wrong. Yes, it’s a sensitive matter, but they assumed in the two-and-a-half months, he at least made proper conversation with you. About the past, about him, and about who he is. Even just a little but no! Work, “how was your day,” and meals. That’s it. That's 99% of your conversations.
“You’re an old man making her cry about something you never even told her for fucks sake,” Geto grumbles. Gojo agrees, vigorously nodding along, “Yeah, this is on you. We already apologized for being assholes, but you? Work on talking to ‘er, man. Build the trust.”
OldestSon!Nanami who comes back to you sleeping on the couch while sitting upright, seemingly waiting on him. There was a book in your hands, your phone right beside you. As he goes to wake you up, his hands accidentally turns on your phone and he reads notifications from Ophenia.
“How are you supposed to know if he…” [never told you??!!]
He should’ve stopped reading, but he was too curious and wanted to know what had you so stressed. He can already guess.
“Call me when you can!! I’ll listen” *Missed Call*
“Mb! Forgot about time zones! Get…” [some sleep first!]
Before he can lift you up, just like last time, your eyes shoot open and you suck in a breath of surprise, “You’re back.”
“I am,” was all he could come up with, surprised at how quickly you noticed his presence. Truly he felt ashamed. He hadn’t confronted you yet – not about the awkward turn of events for the house party.
“Nanami?” you call, and he looks at you humming in return. Eye-to-eye.
“I want to apologize for my jokes or comments at the party. I know I stepped out of line with your friends, and I’m incredibly sorry,” you say. No excuses. No defense. A full apology.
A pause, then you continue, “But, uh, I also didn’t steal your album. I don’t know how it got there. Maybe I moved it thinking it was mine? I can’t remember. I’m sorry for-”
He presses his lips together and sighs as he sits down on the couch. Daringly, he cups your face and brings you closer.
“No, I’m sorry,” he says, eyes glistened and mellow, “I’m sorry for putting you in that position and making you believe you made a mistake when you didn’t. It’s my responsibility to build a place you feel happy and comfortable in and I’m not doing that. You have every right to joke around as you’d like.”
You look back with widening eyes, pupils dilated and breath increasing. He feels the light warmth of your flat cheeks on the pads of his fingers.
“ You’re my- You’re not tied down to any expectations, so do as you please. Rule this house however you’d like,” he softly whispers. His words linger on your mind and breath as you sense his thumb brushing across your cheeks.
“I- And Yuuji told me that he was the one to misplace my album… I’m sorry for assuming it’s you,” he admits, looking at you with downcasted eyes. You take a moment looking at him, trying to comprehend the day before and your emotions.
“I’ll take your apology, but… that hurt, you know? I understand that you were anxious about it, but let’s talk through it next time. I don’t- I would never step over your boundaries or space," you say, licking your lips and clenching your pajamas.
He nods, brushing his thumb on your cheek again. He stupidly wants to hug you profusely while apologizing, but he knew you weren’t affectionate with your friends and family. Would it be too much for you?
So he holds back, talking with his hands now shifted down to your shoulders, “I will. I promise I will. And beside, our lives are mixed now. You have a right to wonder who I was. I noticed… I noticed you adjusting to my habits and I never want you to feel like you have to, okay? It should be mutual.” Your eyes widen before going back to normal. He… noticed?
You didn’t mean to do so. You liked who you were, you were content with yourself, but you feared this marriage breaking because of you. You wanted him to be the one you end up with for eternity. Did you love him? You don’t know. But was he very important to you and did you start feeling inklings of feelings? Definitely.
“Tell me your worries. Tell me everything you need and want. This house is ours, not just mine.” he says, tilting his head towards the array of picture frames on the shelves. You nod along as he spoke.
“You too,” you say, playing with the hem of his shirt, “You have to also tell me everything. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I want to get to know you more… More than anyone else.”
You whisper the words, hesitant that they would scare him off. Knowing he didn’t love you, but wanting him to tell you his secrets as if you were lovers. You speak carefully and low, “I’m trying my best to understand who you are, but if you don’t let me in... How will I know you?”
He closes his eyes, nodding along before opening them, “I will. I promise, hm? I have my regrets with how I acted, but I’ll be better.”
After a beat of silence, you let out a breath of air, relieved. Your heart rate went back to normal and your brows were no longer in a semi-permanent furrow.
“I will too. Today’s probably not the best time to speak of the past, but I’m always here to listen,” you tuck your hands between your legs, unconsciously leaning into him.
“I am too, please don’t ever think you don’t matter to me. We’re married and I want to make sure you feel taken care of,” he gently says, and again, almost reaches out to hug you. Almost reaches out to comfort you on how emotionally distant you two still were, but he doesn’t actually do so. He thought it went unnoticed, so he clears his throat, moving on. After you two have another five minute talk on fixing the issues, he gets up and tells you he’ll make dinner.
“Hold on , wait,” you stop him. “Sorry, I know we were having a serious conversation, but you did this little,” you stretch your arm out to lightly flail it, “thing. What were you trying to do?”
He bites the inside of his cheek, a little embarrassed for being noticed mid-flail before stopping himself from hugging you.
“I was… going to hug you, but… I decided against it. It was to hopefully ease you.”
“Oh, aw, that’s sweet,” you breathe, smiling downwards before questioning him, “You don’t like them?”
“No, I do. I get them a lot from Yuuji. Unprompted, but I think they're nice, so I almost did it out of habit,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. You shuffle in your seat, giggling, “Okay- haha- Okay. That’s cute.”
“Are you okay with hugs?” he returns the question, “I don’t want to cross your boundaries.”
You ponder to yourself, playing with your fingers as you shrug, “A little. It takes me a while. I am horrible at hugs and those things, but I won’t bite if you do.” You looked so serious as you said it, too. Nanami couldn’t help but laugh. His body shook as the big hahaha! left his chest.
“What?” Your hair covers a part of your face as you speak, hiding you from him. It did so when you looked up at him.
“No,” he smiles, sitting back down onto the couch. This time he reaches for your hair, but before he can tuck it behind your ear he simply slides it away from your cheek. “Just… You’re adorable.”
You lean back, eyes flickering and mouth parting as you shout, “What?! Huh? Why?”
“You looked so serious when you said you won’t bite me,” he gives you a lazy smile, the one with his head tilted as he shows his canines. I’m going to jump his bones, you think.
“I just have a serious face. Deal with it,” you huff, ‘bothered,’ trying to hide the building warmth of your face.
“Hey… You can bite if you want,” he comments, lips tightening to stop himself from smiling.
“You’re weird, ugh,” your brows furrow as you pretend to be disgusted. In reality, it reminds you of the days of banter with your friends and how filterless you were. Now, he felt like the cozy fireplace you’ve always dreamed of having growing up. The warm fire you bask in while the world spun in cold circles. You grew up desperately trying to keep up the fire in relationships, to keep the warmth and closeness. And looks like you were no longer the only one adding wood to this fire.
YoungestDaughter!Reader who wakes up the next day and sees a new picture among the range of pictures frames. Your wedding photo inside the most beautiful frame of them all in the dead center. You don’t know if it was intentional or not, but that photo was your favorite from your wedding album. The one where you both gave each other the shy-and-awkward smile, both of you a little blushy because you both just became husband and wife. There were petals being thrown in the foreground. No one was in the way at all. Just you two with the gorgeous decoration, hand-in-hand. The frame had a floral look – a mix of white peonies, blue forget-me-nots, and lavenders.
A big flutter rushes through your body as you imagine him picking the frame, taking out the photo, and setting just right. Knowing him for however long you did, you assume he took a while on this matter. A downwards smile tugs onto your face and your day is made. You know it's bare minimum, but still... He's sweet.
OlderSon!Nanami who comes home to see his favorite dish made for dinner. A surprise to him because he didn’t know you remembered the comment in passing. He only said it once, and that was during your hectic post-wedding party. She remembered.
YoungestDaughter!Reader and OlderSon!Nanami who slept a little closer that night. His arms reaching out, but not quite on you. Hesitant, but getting there. Both your blankets were nearly mixed and no longer separate. A part of your blanket on his legs and a part of his blanket on your hips. It’s getting there.
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I am guilty of overthinking what I write and how the story goes. I’ve rewritten many of the scenarios and went in circles. Plus, the past few months have been crazy, but it's calming down. Let's pray it doesn't get worse.
I will try to be more consistent in the future with the chapters. But since I also want to post other stories, it might go differently.
Any feedback is appreciated! See you all next time!
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