Chapter Text
Nanami’s next mission was located in an abandoned shelter, rundown and musty. Details provided it was shut down for a good year or so, after funds ran too low and the owners had to close it down. Mold grew at its corners and there were scattered brochures and fliers decorating the floor, the dirt barely making the lettering legible. Besides the rusty cages aligned with the wall in the other room, there was hardly any indication the old place used to shelter animals. Thankfully, it was later in the afternoon, which allowed sunlight to peer through the windows, casting long shadows as visible dust floated in the air, the building somewhat filled with light.
For a curse that manifested from the negative emotions surrounding this dog shelter, it was surprisingly difficult to exorcize.
Nanami watches the shadows with caution, weapon ready and eyes sharp. The occasional flicker from the corner of his eye was getting tedious, as he shifted his stance again to locate the curse. He hears a faint growling, but with the echoes of the empty room bouncing back into his ears and the curse’s inability to sit still, the sound didn’t help narrow down its whereabouts.
The file he inspected before entering the veil provided information about the shelter. The decade’s worth of changing owners, hastily passed down to the next, intended to sell uncontrollable dogs to make easy money. Neglectful practices, building resentment to the unfortunate animals, and dissatisfied owners and buyers contributed to the curse’s materialization. It was until the last owners didn’t find worth in managing the shelter, and closed it permanently, and the dogs, the sole cumulation for feelings of irritation and bitterness, were unrightfully put down. It wasn’t until recently that the school was notified about disappearances near the area.
Nanami grimaced as he shut the file. Thankfully, curses were made through human emotions and curses manifested from animals were unheard of. And while the dogs were entitled to have intense feelings regarding their cruel treatment, Nanami wouldn’t want to fight the physical embodiment of their emotions. Something tells him it would become something worse.
He isn’t so sure now, as he finally finds red pupils staring at him from the dark shadows of the room, where the sun doesn’t fully reach.
Blinking his eyes, Nanami inspected the darkness as he tried to make a form of the curse.
It seemed to take the exaggerated caricature of a dog, bared teeth too wide that nearly cover its entire lower half of its head as an inordinate amount of saliva dripped to the floor. Pitch black-eyes with only red pupils showed signs of hostility and malice. And despite the “dog’s” body lowered closely to the ground, its impressive height and build still posed a threat.
The curse took a cautious step into the light, a paw as large as Nanami’s hand (and he was not a small man), revealed black matted fur, rough and coarse, as sharp nails engrave into the old dirty floor.
Nanami holds his breath and doesn't dare to spare a blink.
The growls grow in volume, and for a split second, it stops. In an instant, the dog launches itself at Nanami, jaw elongated abnormally and pupils laser focused on ripping Nanami’s throat out, showing rows of sharp teeth.
Anticipating the curse’s attack, Nanami sidesteps in time to use his nata on the dog’s passing body, the 7:3 ratio appearing momentarily. A swing of his arm and well timed flick of his wrist, he manages to strike when the curse dashes past him, long nails landing on the other side of the room with a screech.
In response, the curse stumbles back into the shadows with a mix of growls and howling, its snout becoming more wrinkled as it stepped back into the shadows. Nanami tries to follow, but the curse’s fur practically melted into the corners of the room, red eyes no longer visible.
The room became eerily quiet, save for the subtle shifts of clothing in Nanami’s stance as he watches for movement.
From the looks of it, the curse was a territorial type, relishing in the darkness and preferred to circle his prey from the edges of its terrain, until it eventually weakens their target from paranoia and exhaustion of its attacks.
Nanami needed to finish this soon. Any longer and he’ll be giving the curse the advantage when the sun eventually sets.
In an attempt to lure the curse out, he momentarily untensed his shoulders and could barely register the click of a paw stepping out of the shadows, a mass of black shooting in his direction from Nanami’s peripheral.
Changing his grip, Nanami slashes along the curse’s passing body, narrowing his target to the torso and landing a deep horizontal gash. The curse howled, darting back into the darkness.
The process repeated tediously, as Nanami waited for the slightest indication of another attack. The curse’s assaults became more frantic now, barely giving Nanami the time to breathe between each one.
This must be it.
After another ratio strike, Nanami prepares to deliver the final blow when he narrowly recognizes scratch noises from above, as bits of concrete material drifted down around him. He only had a split second to lunge from his space in the light when the dog dropped from the ceiling, twisting in the air to land on its paws and bolts towards Nanami.
He grits and tries to swing, but the curse ducks under his off-timed attack and pounces, several rows of teeth tearing through Nanami’s other arm in an attempt to mitigate the damage, sinking into his flesh.
The pain spikes through him, but the grip gives Nanami clear access to the curse’s head. Pushing his injury temporarily aside, he twirls the grip of his nata, and makes a clear ratio on the dog’s head, plunging the tip of his blade into the weak point.
The curse let out a painted whine as Nanami yanks the dog’s jaw out of his sleeve, tearing through the bloody fabric and watches the black body going limp and fall with a thud.
Nanami sighs, watching the curse disintegrate in the sunlight and takes a cautious step back. He inspects the room, thankfully detecting no other sign of cursed energy, atmosphere lighter and easier to breathe.
He looks down at his wound, gingerly peeling the edge of his sleeve to assess the damage. Nanami grimaces when he finds deep engravings of teeth marks in his arm, blood seeping from the ripped skin and torn muscle.
He also doesn’t like the faint feeling of unease that settles into his stomach, alarm bells ringing when he feels the slight discomfort of knowing something was wrong.
Ripping the rest of his flimsy sleeve off, he hastily wraps it around his arm in an attempt to stop the bleeding. After fastening his bandage, he speedwalks out of the building, sheathing his nata and pushes open the creaky doors.
**************
“Well, it’s not rabies at least.”
Nanami’s tense shoulders finally have a reason to relax. He tried avoiding overthinking what the bite could have meant while on the ride back to the school, rationalizing that a curse’s saliva couldn’t have contracted rabies. Victims never knew they were infected until it was too late.
Unless the curse itself had specifically possessed bacteria that caused rabies. After all, it was a manifestation of the negative feelings surrounding a dog’s shelter. Who knows if the curse also carried the manifestation of fear of rabies?
“But you’re not in the clear yet.”
Nanami’s relief came to a short end.
“How do you know it’s not?” He asks, while watching Ieiri carefully inspect the wound, latex-covered hands slowly turning his forearm as her fingers run along the teeth ridges of the mark. The bleeding had stopped as soon as Ieiri came into contact, stitching his skin back together until all was left was dirty yellow bruising and teeth engravings.
“Curses don’t usually carry bacteria from the infected, neither from both animals nor humans. It’s not a living thing after all. There are some cases that it may carry a disease that transmits in its attacks, but this…” Ieiri trails off, cocking her head with a scrutinizing gaze, “This doesn’t feel like it.”
Nanami doesn’t like the uncertainty in her voice.
“I’ll do some testing to make sure you’re rabies-free, but I would prefer if you stay here for tonight, just so I can keep a close eye on you. You gonna be okay with that, ‘Mr. No-Overtime?’”
He sighs and nods reluctantly, “Better I know for sure than go home and realize it's too late.”
“Attaboy. Come on, you can take one of the patient beds. Think of it as a sleepover, yeah? We hadn’t had those since our school days.”
Nanami doesn’t like to ponder too much of the past, especially his last year at the school. But he doesn’t stop the small smile that grows on his face, memories already overflowing. He remembers the late night movie watches, the loud phone calls at the convenience store while they bicker about what snacks to bring, the impromptu trips to the city purely out of teen rebellion and boredom. He recalls the stupid jokes and annoyance that came with trying to sleep with a white-haired teenager who had too much energy to spare.
He can also recall the existence of a bubbly laugh or a calm smile.
“It has been awhile. Do you still smoke like no one is around?”
“Can’t exactly smoke in here, I’m a doctor after all.” Ieiri calls over her shoulder. She disposes her gloves and opens a cabinet under her desk, rooting around for something in the back. She straightens herself up when she grabs what she was looking for, a red wine bottle in hand. “But I can still drink.”
“How is that any better?” Nanami asks, but doesn’t stop her from pouring two glasses. He takes the one offered to him.
“Harder to detect. And it takes more than one bottle to get me even a little tipsy.” She said with a sly upturn of her lips, a rare occurrence these days.
“I should report you for malpractice.”
“You would be considered a hypocrite if you tattled on me.”
“I’m well aware.”
A shared chuckle echoes between them, as Nanami rolls down his sleeve, covering the bite mark.
“You said that the curse didn’t ‘seem’ like rabies. What do you mean by that?” He asked, taking a sip.
Ieiri hums as she drinks, dark red disappearing quickly from her glass. She drags her swivel chair closer to him and sits, “It just doesn’t feel like an infection, it’s a bit difficult to explain. But all I can tell you is something is there.” She nods her head towards him, “The curse’s energy is still latched onto you, it’s subtle but it isn’t hurting you right now. Curse-inflicted infections tend to eat at your cursed energy or your body, like a parasite, until it consumes you whole. This one… is kinda just there.”
“You can’t do anything about it?”
“I can’t exactly heal something that isn’t harmed. This might be out of my jurisdiction too.”
“It seems things keep getting better and better.” Nanami murmured, dismay evident.
“Could be worse. I would rather you come back in one piece than with a nearly detached arm and one less liter of blood.”
“It was one time.”
Ieiri chuckled and started reiterating the day when Nanami came into her clinic with an uncomfortably nonchalant attitude before dropping to the floor, blood quickly gathered into a puddle. Nanami took another swig and tried to protest against her exaggerated retelling, countering with his own story of Ieiri passing out right after her final medical exams since she’s been awake for 5 days straight. Naturally, she waved him off with her argument of using RCT to repair herself.
The night passed surprisingly quickly while they exchanged stories. They never chatted too long while they were working and Nanami would usually save it for social gatherings or at a bar, but he’ll take it nonetheless. Nanami enjoys her quiet company and the location hardly matters.
It was getting late to the point when Ieiri finally stood up and stretched as she groaned.
“I’m getting old nowadays, Nanamin. Used to stay up ‘til 3 AM no problem. Now all I get are back aches and migraines.” She complains mildly, soothing her neck as she rotates her head.
“Nanami,” He corrects, though it’s no surprise the nickname has been spreading thanks to two obvious suspects, “And that’s a good thing, Ieiri-san. Means you’re still alive.”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t know if it’s worth it in this job.” She sighs, rotating her shoulders, “Sit tight, I’ll grab some blankets for our little sleepover.”
He offers his thanks but she waves it away, steady on her feet as she walks out the door.
Nanami considers getting some energy drinks or a home cooked meal to show his thanks, watching her leave. He gets up from his chair and settles on one of the many patient beds, thankfully empty, in her office. He was so used to seeing Ieiri in her element while in her clinic, but relaxed in other environments. It was difficult to watch, in a sense, that Nanami was able to go home and clock out 5 o’clock on the dot while Ieiri practically lived on campus, staying up until the sunrise as she examined curse corpses or tended to wounds.
He feels like he’s grown too accustomed to seeing the dark circles under her eyes and realizes that it might have gotten darker than usual.
Nanami sighs as he sits down. He doesn’t take her for granted, as she’s been the sole healer for the entire school, a familiar senior from his youth, and an unshakeable pillar that had withstanded more than most. But he feels a pang of guilt as he considers if he could have done more.
I’ll have to ask what she prefers to eat on long days.
Putting that thought aside, Nanami tries focusing on his own cursed energy to catch the lingering foreign energy that seems to have stuck with him.
He summons the familiar feeling of cursed energy running through him, energy surging as he calms his breathing. Nanami inhales through his nose, long and deep, and becomes more aware of how his clothes cover his body, his lungs expanding with his breath, and the distant ticking on the wall. He takes in all the sensations as he reaches into the deep crevices of his soul.
He feels something, nearly missable but there. The faintest presence of the dog’s cursed energy that lays dormant inside him.
Nanami blinks and the sensation disappears, his mind brought back into the medical ward.
He brings a hand to his chest, frown etched into his face. He’s had infections from curses, sure, dealt with the consequences and side effects that came with curses of unique power. He had also endured colds and fevers, whether it was from neglect of his own health or his unfortunate luck to contract it from others. But nothing like this, where a curse’s effect remained inside him without any visible or mental alterations.
Nanami might have been underestimating the situation, discomfort building in his chest. With no previous experiences to rely off of, this effect was entirely new to him. He had no idea what would result from this new presence inside his body, if it would grow into a parasite or take an immediate effect after a certain amount of time passes.
He felt nauseous.
“You frown any harder, your face will stay like that,” Ieiri calls out, arms carrying extra pillows and blankets as she returns, “I’m a doctor, so I would know.”
“I’m starting to think we’re taking this situation a little too lightly.” Nanami answered, sullen face unwavering as he helped her arrange the extra duvet.
“Nothing we can do now, Nanami.” She pats his shoulder reassuringly. “Overthinking won’t help, so try to get some rest. I’ll be riiight here.” She declares, settling on a patient’s bed right next to his.
He sighs. She was probably right and if she was more relaxed than he was, then maybe it was just him. And he wouldn’t be alone since the school’s best (only) nurse was at his side.
Nanami nods and loosens his tie. Might as well get comfortable.
**************
Nanami went to Ieiri every day to check on his status. After she tested him for rabies and confirmed it had nothing to do with a possible disease, she requested him to swing by her clinic before he left.
He didn’t mind, the feeling of a foreign energy infesting in his body compelled him to suck up the extra trip before he went home.
His recent mission ended earlier than expected, with a couple minutes to spare until 5 o’clock. Not wasting any time, he made a brisk walk to Ieiri’s clinic, wanting to get his examination done quickly to get the chance to visit the bakery that opened in his neighborhood. He’d hate to miss out if he arrived too late.
His steps slow down when he hears excited pattering running behind him and a familiar voice in distress.
“Slow down! You’re too fast!” Itadori shouts frantically, as he’s practically dragged by Fushiguro’s divine dogs, leashes on the verge of snapping from sprinting at full speed. “Nanamin! Help!”
Unsure, Nanami only stops and turns to face the oncoming stampede, hoping his stature is enough to deter the dogs into slowing down. They don’t seem to take heed and drag a flailing Itadori behind him, when Nanami hears the sound of a closing door and Gojo’s excited voice.
“Hello boys! Did ya miss me?”
The dogs dart past Nanami and into Gojo’s welcoming arms, tails wagging in a blur as they lick and nuzzle into Gojo’s cooing face. Itadori runs up from behind, letting out a huff of relief while holding on to the snapped leashes left in his grip. Nanami then only noticed Ijichi’s presence behind Gojo, stress lines more prominent as he inspects the multiple files in his crowded hands, as the black divine dog ducks underneath Gojo’s hands as he ruffles through white fur, head tilted up with expectancy.
Ijichi’s face relaxes when he looks down and gathers the files in one hand, patting the dog’s head gently.
“Were you taking Fushiguro-kun’s dogs out for a walk?” Nanami asks, watching Itadori catch his breath with hands on his knees.
He perks up, “Yeah! Megumi had them out for the day and I offered to walk them through campus! I thought it would be fun since he was studying and Kugisaki was out shopping but, uh…” He brings up the torn leash with a guilty smile, “I guess I should've remembered they weren’t normal dogs.”
“Don’t let them fool ya!” Gojo interjects with glee, “They’re the cutest dogs that can tear you apart limb from limb if ordered to!”
Ijichi snaps his hand back, tense under the dog’s confused gaze.
“Am I right? Aren’t you the cutest mauler in the world? Yes, you are!” Gojo continues to gush, only for the dog to sniff out a foreign scent of another human to play with, the white divine dog turning to Nanami with expecting puppy eyes, tail wagging incessantly across Gojo’s face, who whines and spits fur out of his mouth.
Nanami wasn’t a weak man, but he wouldn’t be so cruel to deny a dog’s need to be praised. Even if it was technically a shikigami from the Zenin clan’s inherited technique.
“Didn’t take you as the dog person, Nanamin!” Itadori comments, watching Nanami squat down to offer his hand for a sniff, the animal nosing him curiously. Once deemed safe, the dog sits with Nanami and nuzzles into Nanami’s face.
“They’re fine.” He said reluctantly, placing a knee on the cobbled sidewalk to avoid falling over when the divine dog pushes more insistently on him. He sees large hands creep up and lightly grip the edge of the dog’s jaw, pulling at its skin. Surprisingly, the animal is unbothered. Nanami was willing to bet Gojo did this regularly.
“I’m not just fine , Nanamin!” Gojo imitates, taking a deeper cadence as he moves the dog’s skin for the impression of speech. Gojo peeks over the dog’s head, only the blindfold in view, “I’m a good boy! The best boy! A dog that can take on crazy curses and come out on top! Nothing like those lame regular dogs!”
“Stop that.” Nanami said exasperatedly, trying to bat away Gojo’s hands. The other man relents and buries his hands in the soft fur, scruffing at it insistently. He lifts his chin to rest on the dog’s head.
“Dogs are so cute though! I can’t believe you think they’re ‘just fine’.”
“I can admit to that, I’m just not the biggest dog person. As I said, they’re fine.” Nanami confesses, gently rubbing at the area where Gojo had previously pinched.
Gojo opens his mouth to argue when the synced movements from the shikigami dogs stops him. From Nanami’s view, he can see the white dog snap his head to a point behind him, just as the black dog whips his attention from climbing a trembling Ijichi with paws on his suit jacket, Ijichi’s files on the verge of spilling out as he holds it above his head.
Then, they dash off, a blur of white and black crossing Nanami’s vision as the white bundle of fur pushes him aside with enough force to have him stumble back, his rear landing cold on the sidewalk. He hardly registers the impact when he sees Gojo stumbling forward from the dog’s sudden disappearance and narrowly catching himself on his hands, a scant couple inches from Nanami’s face.
Gojo only had time to grin in amusement, when the space between them is eliminated as the black twin of fur mounts on Gojo and launches himself off his back in a pursuit of whatever it set its eyes on. It sends Gojo’s face colliding into Nanami’s.
It wasn’t really a kiss. More of an awkward mashing of lips from both parties, Gojo’s bottom lip smashing into Nanami’s top lip, mouth parted in surprise. But contact he feels is gone as quickly as it appeared.
Gojo is giving him a wry smile as he scrambled off of him, but it was pulled in the wrong directions like it was his first time smiling.
“Sorry! Megumi’s dogs always liked to play rough!”
“Where are you going!?" Itadori calls out in a frenzy, voice already distant as he gives chase after the dogs darting away from them. “Megumi will kill me if I get you guys in trouble! Keep the property damage to a minimum!”
“Ijichi! You had an assignment for me, right?” Gojo is already on his feet and turning away, calling Ijichi as he perks up from gathering the files that were threatening to fall out.
“Yes! Your flight is going to depart soon, you’re needed in Aomori for the set of special grades curses that have manifested spontaneously. Time is urgent so can we please —”
“Great! Race you to the car!” And in a blink, he disappears. Ijichi sighs and offers an apology to Nanami with a curt bow before he makes his speedy trek to the car.
And in the span of not even a minute, Nanami was left on the floor. The quiet prior washed over him and he was alone once more.
He sighs. Once again, Gojo effortlessly seems to create a whirlwind that follows him wherever he goes, leaving Nanami to endure its relentless winds. He felt like an oncoming headache was about to heed its head as he considered staying on the floor.
Not to mention their little accident.
Nanami shook his head.
How embarrassing.
He shuffles onto his feet, dusts himself off to clear the rumple of his clothes and strides into the medical building. He’s adjusting his tie as his shoes echo in the empty hallway. He just wanted to go home.
And just as he has done for the past few days, he steps into Ieiri’s half-open door, pardons his intrusion to find an empty clinic. Her absence isn’t a surprise, as she is always stretched thin as the only doctor on campus. Though, he isn’t eager to make a fuss when Ieiri takes the time out of her day to check up on him. He can wait.
He closes the door behind him and walks to the nearest patient bed to place his now folded suit jacket and tie. He’s about to roll up his sleeve of where the now fading mark is located, when he hears his phone vibrate in his suit’s pocket.
Nanami sighs again, hesitant to pick up as he stares at the lump in his jacket that vibrates beneath the tan fabric. So close to going home, and his phone threatens to ruin his departure with a last-minute mission. And as much as he wanted to decline the call, he was still on duty and still held a semblance of responsibility as a sorcerer in a staff-limited career.
Eventually, after the third ring, he reaches for his pocket when he watches the bed suddenly rise in height, getting taller to the point it towered over him, seemingly closer to the roof.
And it wasn’t just the bed. The room suddenly became massive, chairs looming over him and fluorescent lights expanding on the ceiling. The floor seemed to widen too, stretching farther in distance.
He blinks and realizes that everything wasn’t getting bigger: he was getting smaller. He looks down to see his clothes in a messy pile surrounding him, oversized shoes peeking underneath the heap. His watch that was once sitting snug on his wrist was sitting on his clothes with a fastened buckle.
Nanami’s mind races as he tries to narrow down the possibilities of a curse’s attack when he stumbles forward, limbs not corresponding with his intended movements. He feels himself fumbling over his clothes, like he had too many feet and not enough hands.
Nanami shrugs off his clothes impatiently, feeling lighter as he steps out with one paw in front of the other.
Paw?
Nanami stares, mind blank as he sees the paw where his hand was supposed to be. He can’t calibrate that the limb he was just moving was his.
Is this some kind of joke?
Nanami jerks his head to the faintest tap on the floor to find Ieiri staring at him.
Ieiri’s unlit cigarette fell to the ground, while her mouth was parted in surprise. Her eyes were wider than he’s ever seen, as little startled the level-headed woman. With slow and measured steps, her heels clicking along the disinfected tiled floor, she approached Nanami, her unblinking eyes never leaving him.
She crouches and takes Nanami’s new form in her hands. Nanami is limp, small body hanging and unsure if he was dreaming.
“Nanami?” She whispers, voice in awe, “Is that you?”
Against all odds, Nanami barks.