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"Why would I bring you home if I didn't want to see you?"
Nanami fidgets with a strand on your hair as he continues, "Satoru told me you were at the club and I couldn't leave you alone."
Brimmed with doubt and guilt, you hold your breath to suppress any extreme emotions from coming out.
"Me and Satoru..."
There's a pause for internal deliberation.
Yet holding anything back is difficult when alcohol pulses heavily in your veins.
That, though, doesn't stop you from placing an arm over your eyes as you continue, unable to meet Nanami's intent gaze.
"I first bumped into Satoru at work," you reveal, sharing the information you hadn't dared to tell Nanami before.
"Do you understand how angry I was to see him? Five years and he has done nothing for me," you added, "only for him to show up out of literally fucking nowhere."
A long, loaded sigh flutters past your lips:
"So my manager fired me when I walked off stage, and I'm just...so pathetic."
Instinctively, he brushes your forehead.
"Don't say that," he says instead of reprimanding. "If I were you, I'd do the same."
Hearing him validate your vexation settles your aching heart slightly.
"Then, I saw Satoru again with Haru after school," you continue. "I really thought that'd be the last I'd see him but I just really wanted someone to take care of Haru with me while you were gone. And then..."
When you had thought that you had wept enough, more tears dampen your forearm as you are reminded of your confrontation with Gojo that night.
"I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner," you say between lip trembles. "I went to talk to him earlier. It didn't go well, and so I ended up at the bar."
Even without seeing him, you could hear the attentiveness in his tone. "So why didn't you tell me all of this sooner?"
"Because I didn't want to think about him," you reason.
Only now are you realizing that you had been playing yourself for too long when you should've folded before you entered the deep end.
This only made you more thankful that you were shielding part of your pitiful face.
Rather, you roll from the couch and sway into the halls, not even sober enough to make it halfway through without a slight lurch.
Although Nanami doesn't follow you out, he does hear the rushed flow of water from the bathroom.
Standing up from the couch, he walks instead to the bedroom to check on Haru, pulling the covers over the sleeping boy until your miserable sighs ring down the corridor.
"What happened?" Nanami shouts.
When he doesn't get an immediate response, what you don't know is how his heart sinks in panic, how he dashes into the bathroom looking for you with desperation.
Despite the echoes that guide him, it is your silhouette in the unlit vicinity that ultimately draws him in.
You're sitting in the tub, almost in an upright fetus position as you soaked yourself in water that reached easily to your shoulders.
Noticing his presence, you bring your knees closer to your chest.
"Don't look at me," you warn.
In your mind, it'd be better if he doesn't see the concealer and eyeliner that melts off your face. "I look pathetic."
"Not to me."
Out of complete defiance, he steps towards the side of the bathtub.
Leaning forward, he reaches for your hand only for you to evade his grasp.
"Listen, I can't leave you alone," he sighs, too stubborn for defeat. "You're sitting here and you...haven't even changed out of your clothes."
At the comment, your eyes grow wide.
In a fleeting moment of sobriety, you lower your head and notice the wet clothes that cling to your skin among the pool of water and tears.
"It's okay," Nanami reassures before you could get upset again.
From the way you tried to tug off your jeans without even unbuttoning, he must have noticed just how inebriated you were.
After all, the lack of judgment and coordination in your drunken state was really showing through.
He attempts to help you, but you shrink away again.
"No," you pout, mumbling to the wall. "I don't need your help."
A complete lie.
You do need his help—and deep down—you want him to.
Therefore, the fact that you were lying through your teeth doesn't make you feel better at all.
As a result, the ensuing beats of silence almost makes you turn around to him, only to be stopped by the sound of fabric that thuds gently against the floor.
Confused, you whirl around.
"What are you—?"
The question is cut short when you turn around to see Nanami slowly sinking into the tub with nothing.
Nothing but his boxers.
Your jaw dropped, the unexpected sight forcing your gaze to train on the ripples of water rather than disrespectfully explore his hard planes of muscles.
Chuckling at your sudden stillness, Nanami takes the spot in front of you.
He leans forward, the water that now coated his arms giving his biceps and forearms a glistening sheen.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up, baby."
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