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" you must've really pissed those guys off, huh? " - for nanami
@kyoshisaki
‘ please don’t put the blame on me when the target clearly is you. ’
though his words are shrouded in irritation, beneath the thin layer of plastic annoyance there’s an underlying current of concern, the wariness that comes after that nauseating swirl of cursed energy follows a step behind. nanami wonders if it’s ever bothered gojo, if he cares enough to sense it at all beyond what his eyes show him.
it’d be different if they were alone: nanami would have to be more cautious, watching his every move; he doesn’t have the power to be careless, or the arrogance to face a curse of that level head on, supported only by the sense of responsibility that this is something that he has to see through, that it’d be better that the wretched thing is distracted evading symmetrical cuts and raw energy fed by overtime pacts than to let it roam free where civilians most likely remain hidden, too afraid or too irresponsibly curious to seek shelter elsewhere.
gojo’s presence is a miscalculation.
the imbalance is too notorious, his proximity to the perimeter a salvation and a threat altogether. that he can play the role of illness and medicine is absurd, but nanami would take the risk of his stupid jokes a hundred times over the wails of humans being eaten alive by these ancient devils. his eyes close briefly, memories of rotten flesh and cold steel against his palms are subdued momentarily.
when he turns his attention back at gojo, the man is already standing near the edge of the building, fearless of the abyss; nanami takes a step closer and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, equally unfearing, ‘ i’d rather we finish here quickly. an extra hour is an hour too many in your company, so don’t drag this any further than necessary, gojo. ’