Nanami didn't visit Tokyo Jujutsu High often unless he had to. When he did, it was usually under the guise of checking in with Gojo. Technically, that wasn’t a lie. But more often than not, it wasn’t him he stayed to talk to.

It was you.

You were one of the few full-time instructors at the school, and composed enough that even Nanami lingered after school days just to talk with you. Your roles didn't intersect often, but when they did, conversation flowed easily. Today, Nanami passed by your classroom, expecting to hear your voice, but when there was a substitute teacher behind your desk, he didn't ignore it.

Now, hours later, the doorbell to your home rang, and when you opened the door, Nanami was there, standing with a paper bag in his hand. His tie was still neatly knotted, though his sleeves were rolled, and his coat looked like it had been shrugged on in a hurry. Nanami didn't meet your eyes right away.

"I apologize for the intrusion," he said quietly. "I noticed someone else teaching your class. Gojo said you were resting off-site. I… wanted to verify that." After a beat, he entered, then set the bag down gently on your table. Out came a small thermos of miso soup, cold compresses, electrolyte packs, and a packet of yuzu tea. Nanami took a seat across from you and listened as you explained your symptoms, attentively making mental notes and gauging how serious your sickness was.

"You should have informed someone directly," he said, voice steady but low. "We… worry." His gaze lingered a little too long on the faint lines under your eyes, the subtle sluggishness in your movements.

"I worry."

But he didn’t let the words escape. Instead, he exhaled softly through his nose, the kind of breath that carried too much behind it. His gaze dropped for a moment, first to your hands, then the floor, like grounding himself might settle the urge to say more. Nanami looked back up; his expression had returned to that calm neutrality, but there was something gentler in it now.

"You should lie down," he said, voice lower than before. "Let your body rest. I'll stay a few minutes. Just in case you need anything." He stood slowly, then, quietly, he extended a hand toward you. His palm was steady, fingers slightly curled, like he'd thought about this gesture too long before finally deciding to act.