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romantisized · 1 month ago

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oh, mr. president — nanami kento (m).

pairing ⋆ president!nanami kento & chief usher!reader

amateur journalists, nobara kugisaki & yuuji itadori, snag a meeting with the retired chief usher of the white house, allowing them to revisit old memories ── particularly anything involving u.s. president, nanami kento.

genre & word count ⋆ fluff & smut | 11.8k words.

fic tags & warnings ⋆ fem-bodied!reader (they/she), political!au, political inaccuracies, forbidden romance, workplace romance, constant banter, nanami thee yearning god, age gap, unprotected sex, pleasure dom!nanami, breast play, fingering, clit stimulation, multiple orgasms, mating press, flashbacks are italicized, etc.

sticky notes ⋆ i binge watched the residence with my mom, and then i thought of scandal with president fitz. i know nanami would make such an amazing president. [ crossposted on ao3 ! ]

“Remember,” Kugisaki Nobara says, sitting alongside her partner, Itadori Yuuji, inside the work car, a white BMW. It's outdated, a 2013 328i model, but it gets the job done and it's still fast. “Don't be a dumbass and say something stupid. This is the chief usher, the person that knew the president the best and finally giving us more details about their relationship. We can't mess this up.”

“Allegedly,” Yuuji points out, still siding with the minority that believed the ex-president didn't sleep with them. He huffs, reaching for his half-empty sprite in the cup container. “Why're you so concerned with me? What about you? Remember our last gig together— you nearly got us fired for the stunt you pulled asking for that autograph.”

“I didn't think that Sukuna was serious about that,” Nobara crosses her arms, avoiding Yuuji's gaze. “It was after the interview as well. That man was and still is a jackass!”

“Whatever,” Yuuji downs the rest of his drink before belching out loudly to Nobaras's dismay. She gasps and reaches for the door handle as she mumbles to herself, disgusting. “Let's just get this one out the way without either of us messing anything up.”

“I won't mess anything up—” Yuuji starts tuning out the auburn-headed girl, rolling his eyes as he steps up to the door. With a deep inhale, he presses his finger to your doorbell, hearing the chime as Nobara's footsteps follow shortly after. Three rings before it returns to the silence of the outdoors. In the distance, Yuuji can still hear the sound of cars speeding down the lanes and occasional honking. It provides a good distraction from his nerves. Still significantly new to journalism, especially with an interview such as this one, he went the mile to make a good first impression. A baby blue, long-sleeved button down and gray slacks, the sleeves were cuffed and he was fidgeting with them as he waited. However, he can also tell that Nobara’s nervous as well, pulling at the stray threat on the edge of her skirt and fiddling with her fingernails about to bite them off when they finally hear a voice. “Yuuji and Nobara, correct?”

The two coworkers can’t tell where the voice is coming from, but they immediately respond with stammered yeses, their anxiousness evident. Again, the voice speaks through the camera watching them from above, “Please pull out your ID and point to the camera.”

Shuffling around, Yuuji pulls out his wallet from his pockets while Nobara snags hers from her purse, slipping out their IDs before struggling to find the camera. The monotone voice doesn’t indicate whether or not they’re irritated by this sign of unprofessionalism, “Point it to the left, please.”

Finally do the two of them notice the red light pointed directly at them. If this is you that’s watching them, their beet red faces will only get redder from embarrassment as they do as instructed. The amateur journalists stop when they hear a satisfied hum and a, “Great! Mrs. (Y/L/N) and I will be down to greet you shortly. Thank you for your patience.”

Nobara groans when she hears a click and slumps her shoulders. “We’re so bad at this! She must already think we’re unprofessional.”

“Don’t be so negative already,” Yuuji says in a low voice. “Maybe they understand that they caught us off guard.”

“I highly doubt that,” Nobara pouts. “I think—”

Before Nobara could say anything more, there’s the click of the door knob, forcing her to straighten up her posture and to hold in her breath. Yuuji follows suit as they fix their posture as though they’re in the military. Their minds go blank as their hearts begin pattering faster against their chests. When their boss had told them that you specifically requested for them to conduct the interview, Nobara and Yuuji both freaked out. Countless journalists from years prior tried churning out that story from both you and the former president before, but they all failed to get a word from either of you. Everyone knew the truth, speculated it after news articles came from inside sources revealing the relationship that President Nanami had with the chief usher of the white house, but with both parties neither confirming or denying such allegations, it was just one giant rumor that became something the nation loved to gossip about.

One year later, before the president’s second term could truly end, he decided to step down as president, and Vice President Gojo Satoru stepped into the position. You stayed as chief usher until the next election before finally stepping down, and the people of the country concluded that you retired from the job to finally sleep alongside Nanami in peace.

Nobara sides with the majority, finding that the original article that exposed all of this information couldn’t have been a lie. Who would fabricate such a detailed story just for it to be a lie? President Nanami was one of the greatest the nation had ever had, truly there for the people and both political parties favored the man, except for the few outliers, of course. However, Yuuji always thought that it was Nobara’s hopeless romantic heart that led her to believe such things so quickly. He was the type of journalist who needed plenty of resources to rely and support such claims. Who cared if someone on the inside reported such intimate details of the president? Why didn’t many more people come forward then, if it was so obvious that the person who was running the country was infatuated with the chief usher? There had to be more to it.

When the door swings open, Nobara and Yuuji are greeted by two older women. On the left, it must have been the lady who spoke to them on the camera. Pale skin, black hair and brown eyes, but the most notable feature about her is the scar that runs alongside her face. It takes Yuuji and Nobara strength not to ogle the women with mere curiosity. She smiles sweetly, already aware of what they were looking at before she speaks. “Hello, we spoke over the camera,” she confirms what they detected. “I’m Utahime Iori, and this is—”

She gestures to her left, but you interject before Utahime could finish. “I can introduce myself, thank you very much.”

The way you say it isn’t to be rude or snide, no. You chuckle towards the end of it as you throw Yuuji and Nobara a wink. “She thinks I’m some senile old person, but I can still talk. I’d’nt be having this interview if I couldn’t!”

Your laugh is contagious, Utahime holding her hand in front of her face to cover her growing smile as Yuuji and Nobara chuckle. You hold out your hand for the two young journalists, eyes sparkling as you introduce yourself, “I’m (Y/N). Come on in.”

─────

You’re kind, serving out food and drinks for Nobara and Yuuji before talking about the interview. They tried asking questions during brunch, but you’d often cut them off, asking for them to enjoy the meal before heading right for business. “I told myself I’d never give the press answers, but here I am doing just that! We’re doing things on my terms.”

Yuuji and Nobara obliged, because who knows if there’ll ever be a time where they’re being fed like this again. You seemed to be a kind woman with a personality that easily had them captivated. You had both Nobara and Yuuji’s attention for the entirety of the brunch, keeping them engaged in conversation as you asked about their personal lives and what they did in their spare time. The two journalists should have found the questions invasive, but you had their eyes sparkling as you hummed and acknowledged their stories. You were such a warmth, unaware when Utahime slipped by them and reached for their empty plates and washed them all up.

“I think it’s time we start doing this interview, right?” you say, scooting off the chair effortlessly and walking into the direction of your living area. Despite the home looking so small from the outside, it was quite a spacious area. Yuuji’s eyebrows furrowed as his puppy dog, brown eyes sparkled in confusion, completely forgetting the reason he was even here. “Hm?”

Nobara nudges the boy, slipping out of her chair and pushing it in with the screech of the legs. In a low voice, she hurried her partner with a “C’mon!”

Your living room was cozy and as expected of a lot of older people, cluttered in the same breath. Vintage brown leather couches with mediterranean print blankets thrown over. The intricate print on the rug tied well into everything surprisingly as the deep brown coffee table was decorated with fine china and personal trinkets to the woman. Yuuji and Nobara didn’t realize it before, proving just how bad they were at their jobs, but there were pictures around, answering the question that the nation had for years and confirming what everyone already knew— you and Nanami had been together for all those years. Digging his elbow into Nobara’s hip, he points to the picture sitting to his left. Look, he mouths.

Obviously, a picture of the two of you when you were younger and the former president was still alive. The two of you on the beach, you in a bikini and Nanami in swimming trunks. He was a fit man, holding onto you with such security and love. You were looking right at the camera, but he was looking right at you. As though you were the sunset standing right behind the two of you. Such adoration in his eyes, it was evident how much he loved you.

You saw how the two of them stared at the picture, your eyes lightening up, but it was all within due time. “How much is your company paying you for this article?”

“Mmm,” Yuuji shrugs, his attention diverted right back to you. He didn’t think twice about the curiosity of his and Nobara’s salary, open to offer you the details. “The company usually gets paid based on the views that it receives. If this does exceptionally well, we might get—” Yuuji tries to do the math in his head, but quick calculations was never his strong suit, making Nobara step in to finish for him. “Two-hundred dollars, at most.”

“That’s it?” You tilt your head with a scoff.

“Yeah,” Nobara nods. “It’s not that much, all things considered. But, because we’re still new in the game, we won’t be earning as much as the more experienced journalists have yet. Usually they branch off to do their own thing, if their readers are dedicated enough.”

“No, no, no,” you shake your head, unsatisfied with their nonchalance. “That just won’t do. I’ll have to pay you guys out of pocket for all the time you’re going to be putting in listening to me talk.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that. We’re sure that this article will set things off—” Nobara pinches Yuuji. “Ow!”

“Be smart like your friend right here,” you say with a smirk. “Don’t argue, just accept your blessings.”

You call Utahime, asking for her to make you a cup of tea as you pull your feet up on the couch. “Anyway, I don’t want to keep you guys here too long, so are we ready for the whole story? As you can see—” You gesture to the picture frames cascading the walls. “—The media was right, former pres— Kento and I were in a relationship all along.”

“Oh, yes!” Nobara chirps, reaching into her purse for her miniature notepad. She glances at Yuuji, “You’ve got your notepad ready?”

“Yeah,” Yuuji says in a low voice, reaching for his back pocket to pull out his and the pen alongside it. “Yeah, if you don’t mind, can you explain what exactly a chief usher does in the white house? I was never too sure.”

“What?” you snort, raising your eyebrow. “You two didn’t do your research before coming to speak with me?”

Nobara’s heartbeat immediately picks up, thinking that Yuuji completely ruined it for them. You had been so accepting so far, but this sign of unpreparedness ruined it. “Y–yes, but…” She stammers before you let out a hearty giggle.

“I’m just messing y’all, dear,” you smile. “Don’t worry. Google makes things sound more difficult than they are.”

Fixing your posture in the couch, you purse your lips out in attempts to find an easy explanation for the chief usher of the White House. “I want to start out by saying that I had no political role in the White House. I don’t get involved in any decision making. I was more like— Oh! Think of me as the manager of a hotel, or any business, as a matter of fact.

“There’s a portion of the White House where the president rests his head at night, eats his meals, and partakes in all recreational activity. Considering that Nanami didn’t have any family with him, we only looked after one man. There were chefs, a cleaning department, and all that stuff that specifically catered to the presidents and their living arrangements. I supervised all of that and made sure things run smoothly.”

In synchronization, Nobara and Yuuji’s mouth fall open as they drag out an “Ohhh!” in clarity. You chuckle, nodding your head. “Yes, I overran all of it. It was such an exhausting position, but all the while, so fulfilling.”

The way your eyes beamed when you described your job. As you reminisced about your position, the corner of your lips curved upwards in a smile of longing. They could see that you really loved being a chief usher. However, it only made them have more questions to ask you. This was their approach to journalism, letting the interviewee guide where their mind led to. It worked for them on a multitude of occasions and they were hoping this would be similar.

Sitting up in the seat, Yuuji’s already got the front of his page filled up. “And if I can ask—”

“I feel like I’ve both misled you when I contacted your company to speak to the both of you,” you say, eyes glancing towards Yuuji. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt you. Yuuji and Nobara, right?—” They nod. “— I’m not here to answer all sorts of questions you had for me. Everyone knew that Kento was lying about being in a relationship with me. There’s no point in me giving answers to questions that everyone could look up in a quick Google search. If that was the point, you could just go back and read the article that started the entire controversy.

“I just want to tell you more…” You pause, trying to find the right word, “intimate details of what happened; to give you a more accurate replay of what happened. That’ll hopefully answer all the questions you could possibly have for me. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Nobara and Yuuji answer with a sturdy nod.

“Great,” you sigh. “Now, where do I even start? I guess a good story starts with some background, right?”

“Start wherever you feel comfortable with,” Nobara says, gnawing on her bottom lip as she holds her notepad ready to write the moment you start speaking. You nod, finally finding a starting ground. “I started working as the assistant usher when I was 23.

“My father trained me to take his position until I was 29 and he was ready to retire. I thought it was too soon and that I still needed more time, but he was ready to hit the hay and finally get some rest. By the time Nanami became president and had moved into the White House, l was still trying to find out who I was as a chief usher. I had only experienced two presidents before him, but I had already known that I didn’t like him.”

That comes to a surprise to the journalists, remembering how the initial article on the two of you spoke about how you and the president were immediately smitten. Yuuji stammers on his words, garbling out his question, “Wa–Wait— Wait… You didn’t like Nanami at first?”

“Nope,” you confirm.

“Why not?” Nobara furrows her eyebrows. “He seems so… nice?”

“He was too easy going,” you scoff, leaning back into the couch. “It made my job harder because he was too simple. The presidents before him knew exactly what they wanted and how they wanted it. They were assholes, sure, but because of that, I knew how to take care of them and how to give them exactly what they wanted. It annoyed the living hell out of me how humble he was.”

You chuckle, recalling a specific event that was the catalyst towards you and Nanami’s relationship. “My father always told me that I could be a little hot headed, and I never took him seriously until I yelled at the president.”

“You yelled at President Nanami?” Yuuji gasps, voice getting higher in disbelief. You snort, “I sure did! And he deserved it, too, for making my job harder than it needed to be!”

“(Y/N), you need to go talk to the President,” the head chef, Shoko Ieiri, trudges into your office as you’re overseeing important documents before they need to be turned in for later today. You had a migraine building up, reading the fine print underneath the desk lamp. Shoko wasn’t helping your current status when she came storming in, miserable as always. Looking up, you sigh, “What is it now?”

“President Nanami has done the same thing as he did last week,” she starts to complain. “Refusing to complete his weekly meal plan, saying that we can choose for him.”

Typically, you could tolerate Shoko and her bleak personality. She was nice to you, so you were, in turn, nice to her. However, with such an over grueling day, you couldn’t take such small issues at the moment. And frankly, you couldn’t take the indecisive president either, at the moment. “Just send someone up again— and not Takuma again, either. That’s why we’re in this situation again.”

“What’d you think I did this time?” Shoko huffs. “Sent Riko up there—”

“Riko’s no better than Takuma, too!” You raise your voice. “Look, I don’t have the time for this, right now. Come back in an hour and we can sort this out—”

“No,” Shoko stands her ground, crossing her arms as she stares at you challengingly. “I don’t have another hour because we need to start prepping for the incoming week right now.”

Arching an eyebrow in her direction, you tilt your head.

Now, the two of you march in strides towards the Yellow Oval room. Neither of you’re saying anything, but you can feel how triumphant Shoko feels for getting in her way. She had a talent for using your impatience to the advantage and you wanted to nip that in the bud in the near future.

“Wait outside for me,” you speak calmly.

“No,” Shoko scoffs. “I need to know—”

“Wait,” you speak more sternly, “outside for me.”

With the bass in your voice, Shoko begrudgingly stays back while you open the door. Pushing open the door rougher than you intended, you call for the president’s attention immediately. You hold a blank meal plan and a meal in your hand, and when you look over at the blonde, you can only feel your chest rising in frustration. You had so many more important matters to deal with, and truthfully, if Shoko really wanted this to be resolved, she should’ve done this herself.

You don’t know why you gave in so easily, but now that you’re here… You throw the menu and meal plan in his direction, catching Nanami completely off guard. In the moment, you had no care for the consequences, only fueled by your frustration. “Fill out the meal plan.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feign apologeticness. “Can you please fill out the meal plan, Mr. President, sir?”

He scoffs, ignoring your mocking tone as he looks back at the paperwork in front of him, those same round spectacles right at the brim of his nose. “I have more frivolous things to worry about than a meal plan, right now?”

“And, what?” you challenge him. “You don’t think I want to be here right now badgering you about it, myself?”

“Miss (Y/L/N), I’d be reluctant about the tone you’re setting with me right now,” Nanami warns you, but you couldn’t give a damn.

“And I ask you to not make my job anymore difficult than it needs to be,” you retort. “There should be no reason I’m here asking you to choose seven meals for the rest of the week, when there are other people who’ve been hired to do this. There should be no reason why the head chef should have to come to me complaining because you can’t make a decision for yourself.”

“I’m not a picky man,” Nanami sighs. “Choose whatever you want and I’ll be fine with it.”

“You say that, but I’ve experienced plenty of assholes before you to know when that’s a lie.”

“You called the president an asshole?” Yuuji gasped. You nod, “It wasn’t one of my best moments, but gosh, I just needed Shoko off my back. It’s not easy being a chief usher, y’know?”

“I don’t understand how you didn’t get fired,” Nobara exhales.

“Me neither,” you chuckle. “I’m glad he didn’t. My father would’ve had my head.”

“D–Did you just call me an asshole?” He sounded more baffled than angry. It quickly made you realize your mistake, each and everyone of them that you made the moment you opened that door. Maybe you should’ve lied, but that wasn’t really in your nature. If you were going to be fired, you might as well be truthful.

“Y-Yes,” you breathe, hearing your heartbeat pang heavily against your chest.

And then it was silent. Nanami just looks at you, giving you a steady once over before reaching for the menu and meal plan. With his pen, he clicks it and carefully completes. Neither of you say a word until he’s done. Standing up, he approaches you. He doesn’t hand you the meal plan, keeping it close to himself. Brown eyes staring down at you, giving you the opportunity to see the exhaustion embedded in them, he lets out a sigh. “I apologize for making things more difficult for you,” he apologizes. Your eyes widen, the first time you’ve ever experienced a president apologize for their wrongdoings. “But, if you ever disrespect me again, it’ll be your last day here.”

“Is that how you guys got together?” Nobara tilts her head. This was so informal. This felt too personal for two journalists to be sitting down alongside the former chief usher of the White House. However, neither of them would question a thing.

“No,” you shake your head. “Despite what that article claims, we didn’t get together until his third year as president.”

“That long?” Yuuji inhales. “Why?”

“Because I was a professional,” you beam with pride, holding a hand to your chest as you straighten up your back. “And I knew the repercussions if I acted on my feelings. He had confessed to me before, towards the end of his first year, in fact. But, I had to shut down things quickly. I don’t even think I reciprocated feelings for him at the time!”

“Miss (Y/L/N),” Haibara Yu, Nanami’s best friend and bodyguard, knocks on your office door, peeking his head inside. He gives you a warm smile. “Nana— President Nanami wants to speak to you in the Yellow Oval room.”

Ever since your incident with the president in said room prior, you had cleaned up your act. Got control of your temper and told Shoko if this event were to repeat itself, you’re not going to be the one stepping in anymore. Your job was to ensure everything was running smoothly within the residential area of the White House, not doing everyone else’s job because they couldn’t be bothered.

The president realized that his easy going approach wasn’t going to do. No longer giving staff the leniency that he thought they’d like, he showed people exactly how he wanted things done, and it put the majority of the residential staff at ease. However, not you. No, ever since your confrontation, it was like the president needed to keep an eye on you yourself, asking for you more than any other president had.

“I haven’t even seen past presidents call on your father the way President Nanami calls for you,” one of the cleaning staff had told you one day. Well within her years at the White House, she had seen and experienced it all. “You must’ve done something bad.”

You can’t help but be reminded of that moment as Haibara walks alongside you towards Nanami’s direction. Once walking at the same speed, you start to slow down, really taking it into consideration that maybe he was keeping you on a leash after your lash out. You had apologized for that, assuring it wouldn’t happen again. It had been months, surely you had proven yourself.

Seeing you slow in pace, Haibara stops to turn around. “Everything alright, Miss (Y/L/N)?”

Haibara was nice and kind. Brown eyes and a smile that spoke trustworthy. Surely he could enlighten you on why Nanami was calling you this time. You crack your knuckles, a habit you had developed when you were younger. “Had I done something wrong?”

Haibara hums, trying to recall Nanami’s direct request. “No. He just asked me to bring you to his office.”

“Are you sure?” At that, Haibara chuckles, that boyish smile lightening the mood. “Did you do anything wrong recently for you to think so?”

Recently, no. “No.”

“Then, I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” He dismisses the matter, calling you to follow him once more as he starts walking. Leading you to the Yellow Oval Room, Nanami sits there waiting for you. Again with a thing of paper before him as his glasses rest on the edge of his nose. He hears the both of you come in, but he doesn’t say a thing. Not yet.

While you work on your temper, you still have yet to practice more patience as you rock on your heelYou clear your throat, but the older man’s attention still stays glued to the papers. “Excuse me, sir. You wanted to see me.”

“I did,” he hums. “Just give me a moment.”

You nod, letting out a sigh as you try to occupy yourself. Eyes diverting to the window and looking out at the perfectly manicured grass and the trees. The sky is a nice shade of blue and it looks comforting. Getting so lost in it, Nanami’s voice brings you back to reality when he instructs Haibara and the next bodyguard to leave the room.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t do that,” the next one says.

“You will today,” Nanami simply states sternly. “It will just be for a quick minute.”

Haibara lets out a breath, directing his partner to follow him alongside as they close the door. However, you can still see the shadow of their feet waiting out front. Standing uncomfortable in your position, you grimace. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to send your bodyguards out like that?”

“Do you plan on killing me, Miss (Y/L/N)?”

“What?” You hadn’t realized he had taken a step until he took the next one.

“I said,” he arches an eyebrow, staring into your eyes. “Do you plan on killing me, Miss (Y/L/N)?”

“No,” you scoff.

“Then, I believe the both of us shall be fine.”

“Why’ve been calling me down so much?” you ask. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been on a very clean streak lately. I haven’t called you an asshole again.”

You cringe, watching how Nanami’s expression hardens. With a finger, he points at you, tsking. His eyes brighten up, making the atmosphere lighter. “You’re a character, for sure.”

“I’m sorry,” you say in a low voice, looking down at the ground.

“Don’t,” he says, stepping away from you. “I quite enjoy the informalities. Makes this old place more refreshing.”

At that, your shoulders relax, that tinge of fear dissipating.

“What are your favorite flowers?”

“Hm?” You scrunch your nose in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, I’m just asking you a question.”

“Tulips.”

“And your favorite dish?”

“Is there a true purpose to why you wanted to see me today?”

“I asked you what’s your favorite dish.”

“Do you think that just because you’re the president that I should just answer all your questions without any for myself?”

“If I say yes, will you keep responding to me with your snide remarks?” There was a glint in your eyes to tell you that this entire conversation had a meaning to it, making your eyes widen at the possibilities your mind is insinuating. You take a step back from him, realizing how close in proximity the two of you are.

“Can you just stop frustrating me and tell me why you called me here?” you sigh. “I have more… frivolous things to worry about right now?”

Nanami chuckles. But his posture stammers. Dropping his shoulders and fixing the buttons on his shirt, he clears his throat. “I’m trying to ask you out on a date. I thought I was being obvious.”

“I had a feeling,” you admit. “But I want to know, why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why are you asking me out on a date?”

He scoffs. “I think I like you better when you aren’t acting this dense.”

“Excuse me?” You gasp. “I’m not dense!”

“Everything else is telling me that you are,” Nanami clears his throat, reaching for his glass of water on the coffee table. “C’mon. It’s a simple yes or no. I won’t break if you tell me no.”

“Everything else is telling me that you would,” you cross your arms.

“Is that all you can do?” Nanami scoffs incredulously at your behavior. “Be stubborn and throw back what I’ve said in my face?”

“We went back and forth for a little while longer before I eventually told him no,” you sigh, a smile beaming on your face as you recall the trail of events. “I was a stubborn thing back then, still am! I think that’s why he liked me so much.”

“What made you break?” You could see the sparkle in Nobara’s eyes, seeing how she, herself, yearns for a love story like your own. “What made you finally give into temptation?”

You reminisce to that exact moment in time when you could feel your body caving into the temptation that was Nanami Kento. With a deep and heavy exhale, your shoulders relax. “Him,” you smile. “That evil bastard had the gift of pining. Even when I said no, he wouldn’t stop coming after me. It’s because he knew I wanted him, too—” You point at Nobara, eyes narrowing with a sternness that makes her believe she’s in trouble. “—Never let a man know that you reciprocate their feelings. They’ll only keep tormenting you.”

Nobara chuckles at that, but keeps that snippet of advice dear to her heart. “When I finally said yes, he organized a date for the both of us not too long after. Of course, we couldn’t let anyone know and with him always being watched over, it was hard, but we managed to do it.”

You felt like an idiot agreeing to this, letting Nanami finally convince you to dip your toes in the water. If anything went wrong tonight, the two of you would come to an agreement to call everything off. You were still in your work clothes, the majority of the staff already clocked out and in their beds. The remaining walked by you without a second thought or question, putting you slightly at ease as you walked down the corridors towards the president’s bedroom.

Nanami had a power to invoke fright into his immediate bodyguards, or maybe Haibara was too giving to his best friend, taking a moment to leave while you could slip in without being noticed. It had proven easier than you initially thought, your racing heart struggling to calm down the moment you inside his sleeping champers and Nanami sat on the edge of his bed waiting for you. He chuckles slowly, seeing how wide your eyes are in the dim lighting provided by the moon. Completely dark, he wants everyone to think he’s asleep. However, in the far right of his room, there’s a small table with two plates of food waiting to be eaten as a desk lamp rests in the center.

“If I’m being honest,” Nanami starts. “I thought you were going to flake on me.”

You gasp, clutching your necklace in fake surprise. “You think that I’d flake on a date with the president? Do you really think so lowly of me?”

“After three years of waiting?” Nanami sighs. “Yes.”

You nudge him in his sides, forgetting who exactly you’re talking to at that moment.

“He made me feel like we were in an actual restaurant,” you paused. “Sure, there weren’t any waiters and chattering around, but you get what I mean. He had such a strong presence that he was able to captivate my attention for the whole night. When it came to the end of it, I didn’t want to leave.”

When it was time to call it a night, Nanami directed you towards the secret passageway. You had known almost every nook and cranny of the White House, but miraculously, not this. Nanami had to teach you where to go that night.

“You’re going to make a left and two rights before you’ll be at your wing of the residence,” he instructs, his chest pressed against your back as he shines his phone flashlight in the tunnel. “Since there’s no shift changes for the next hour or so, you should be alright.”

“Should?” you challenge playfully. He smirks.

“You’ll be alright,” he corrects. And in an even lower voice, he whispers, “Good night.”

You just stood there, hesitant to leave while he was waiting for you to. You told yourself the moment he had asked you out, that you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the both of you. However, you had eventually caved in, and now that you did, you didn’t want to do anything to stop this. Knowing a little more about the president and knowing what he liked and did outside of politics, it shined a different light on him now.

You don’t know what overtook you.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, voice laced with concern when you spun on your heel. Your heart was racing, and every rational thought was still relaying the repercussions that this had on your career, but your feet moved involuntarily and so did your hands. Invading the president’s personal space, you grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him to your height.

The dark surroundings solidified your solitude, sucking the two of you into your own universe. The chill of the air made you want to dive into his hold even more, seeking for the warmth that you felt that only he could provide you. You had other partners prior to being a chief usher, having your fair shares of boyfriends and kisses. However, they all felt so childish and immature. This being your first kiss in years, this felt world renouncing and powerful.

Nanami’s large hands quickly found purchase on your hips, further wrinkling your work clothes in his hold as he pulled you closer into him. His entire presence was swallowing, your entire senses filled with him. Pink muscles dancing with each other, never fighting for dominance, but for equity— finding a home within one another. He tasted tonight's late dinner, but so did you, and somehow it was the sweetest thing either of you had ever had.

He had made you out of breath, speechless, by the time you two pulled away from each other. Both of you panting and catching your breaths, it takes you some time to recuperate and come back to your senses. When you look up into Nanami’s eyes, though dark and the only source of light being the moon, you can still see the brown hues that remind you of fresh coffee beans when you stop by the cafe early in the morning before work. You wonder if there’ll be a time where you could do that with Nanami.

You should’ve said good night. You wanted to, but the moment you started imagining a future with him, was the moment you broke the lenses of your own rose-tinted glasses. In a haste, instead of good night or telling him that you enjoyed your night, you said, “I should— I should go.”

You didn’t have to say it. Because your actions spoke loud and clear for Nanami. He knew what your heart meant. He nodded, eyes sparkling with want as he fixed his shirt. The tunnel door still open, he repeated his instructions— a left and two rights.

The next day when you were doing your usual run-arounds, you and Nanami managed to cross paths. He was stealthy when he slipped something into your coat pocket. On your lunch break, you finally notice it when you’re reaching into your pockets for something when it slips out. Folded into a square, when you straighten it, it reads: Everything went smoothly, so I’m expecting a second date in two weeks.

The microwave beeps as you chuckle. You’re grateful that you’re all alone at the moment. You breathe, “That jackass.”

“He was the sweetest thing to ever happen to me,” the corner of your eyes watering as you spoke. “Said he would end his presidency for me, but I convinced him to run for another term. I didn’t want him to call it all off just for a woman. The damn man said I wasn’t just any woman.

“It’s a shame he passed before you two could meet him,” you sigh. “You’d have loved him. He was so down-to-earth when he wasn’t a pain in the ass.”

You had made each other your favorite habits, finding it easy to sneak through the corridors in the dead of night to see each other. The bodyguard’s tunnel had become your bed friend, memorizing the route to the president’s bedroom in a matter of time. It’s shocking that you haven’t been caught yet.

You had been told time and time before that your brazen and headstrong personality would be a deterrent, making people repelled to form any relationship with you, you had started taking it to heart within your early twenties. It was harder to create new friendships and the people you were attracted to didn’t seem to like you back. You didn’t mind it at first because you know at some point that your job would make you forget all about that, but now, Nanami’s sparked up those old memories. But just as quickly as he reminds you of them, he’s made them disappear with the snap of his fingers.

When your paths would cross, he’d always put in subtle effort to tell you, he sees you. Little slips of notes, the graze of his finger against your skin, quick glances thrown your way while you were busy settling small disputes, and so much more. And when the moon covered the sun’s shift and the sky grew darker, you and him were trapped together underneath his covers. Thick comforters underneath the vent that blows ice cold air, he shields you from the winter of it. In each other’s embrace while the bodyguards stood outside stoic, his body was summer, engulfing you in a tight embrace that made you feel like you were at home.

“C’mon,” he chuckles, messing with your pants' buttons while you try to swat them away. You have to stifle your voice, sucking in your giggles as you jut out your knee. His next hand’s on your hips, his fingertips digging themselves into the bone. He’s so close, his nose kissing the tip of yours as he puckers his lips. “Let me take it off. We’ve got more than an hour until Haibara’s off his shift. That’s plenty of time for me.”

“Plenty of time for you to do what?” you scoff, still pushing him away. “To torture me to no end? It’s bad enough I’ve got to work for you for a few more months. Now you want to subject me to pain? No, Kento. Leave me alone.”

“What?” he smiles, those tired brown eyes brightening up. “You think I don’t have what it takes to win a second term? O ye of little faith.”

“No,” you joke along with him, losing your grip on him as he’s finally able to undo the button and pull down your zipper. Finally giving in, your hips rise up as you shimmy out of your pants and kick them off the moment they pool at your feet. “You’re the worst president we’ve ever had yet. The people will see for themselves in your second run.”

“You’ll tell them how much of an asshole I am?” he snickers. You nod, spine shivering as the cold air seeps underneath the comforter, tickling your skin. But Nanami’s always been the blanket you needed, his large palms resting on your upper thighs and massaging them with his body heat. His fingers rise to tap against your inner thighs, coaxing you to spread your legs.

“By the end of it, they’ll know just how bad you are, Mr. President.”

Arms draping around his neck, your covered chest presses against his as you pull him for a kiss. You could never get tired of the way his lips tasted against yours, the way he took your lips with such fervor and want. If there was something more than wanting and needed, that’s what he made you feel. If there was something more than longing, something stronger than love, that’s what he made you feel. That’s what you felt.

He helps you get out of your blouse, nearly ripping out a few buttons in his impatience. And with ease, he slips you out of your bra, freeing you from their manacles. Another kiss he plants on your lips, so sweet and tantalizing they are, creating a trail down to the juncture of your neck and to your cleavage. But before he can have you just how he likes and wants, he looks up at you through the strands of his disheveled blonde hair. “I’m sure I’ll change your mind soon enough.”

Nanami wishes he could love you in the light. He wishes he could admire you truthfully in the brightness of the sun, and not only have the moon as a witness to his utter devotion to you. When he’s explored your body, his fingers have felt the thick lines of your stretch marks. He wishes he could admire them under the morning beams, waking up to you in the sun’s glory. He wishes that when he kisses and prods on the dark nubs that stand erect for him, that he could see you for all of your truth.

But the darkness stands for the secrecy that this relationship is, forever being the obstacle that holds you both back from having each other out in the open. So, every time he has you in a position like this, he doesn’t take you for granted and gives you what feels like his all. But, is it really? Nanami feels like can never give you his all as long as he keeps you in the dark.

Someone like you, you’re not made to be hidden. He knew that from the moment you called him an asshole because of some damn menu plan.

His pink tongue drags a line from under your breast, tasting the salt of today’s hard work, all the way up to your puckered nipple. He salivates like a rabid beast, the muscle dripping in spit before he suckles on it.

And just as your personality is strong, so is your body— so reactive and vocal to his touches. Your chest rising and falling as you put in your best effort to keep yourself under control, your back an inch off the bed as you silently plead for more. You’ve always deserved more and Nanami feels unfortunate that he can’t give you that. He’s the president, for Christ’s sake, that’s what he’s supposed to do. Give people more in life and provide for his nation.

But how is he supposed to provide for a nation if he can’t even provide to the one person he desperately wants to?

He wants to hold on to you so tightly in a way that you could never leave his embrace. He wants to hold you so tightly in a way that he’ll never forget what you feel like. Lips latched around your nipple, his next hands playing and flickering with the bud, he bucks his hips in between your legs and into the sheets of the bed. The taste of you on his tongue is addicting, your entire body an aphrodisiac to him, something he’s hooked himself on the first time he had gotten you caged underneath the sheets.

You’re a temptress who must’ve casted a spell on him specifically, because how could a man such as him succumb to you so easily? For the majority of his life, he had focused on himself and his future. Never indulging himself into the pleasures of what romance could provide him. People used to tease him for it, but now that he’s here now, he doesn’t regret any of his choices.

His cock erect underneath his clothes, he rubs it against the fabric, hoping for some friction as he finds home in your chest. Saliva pooling from the corner of his lips as he suckles and latches onto your breasts.

You squirm in his hold, arousal pooling down on the crotch of your panties. Clenching around nothing, you can only buck your hips up as Nanami finds himself so enamoured with your chest. You’re not even sure he can hear you when you call out his name. But that’s all you can say, his name. Kento.

You’ve held yourself back for so long. You’ve restricted yourself from the possibility of having him for longer all because of your stubbornness, but maybe it could have worked out back then. However, you try not to drown yourself in the maybe’s and what if’s, importing yourself to the present and the pleasure that right now is giving you.

You’ve only worked with two presidents prior to Nanami and they all had the same thing in common— how selfish they are. But not Nanami. No, Nanami was the most selfless man you knew with how he treated you. He always tended to your pleasure and needs before his own, finding himself cozy in whatever position he was as long as you felt good. Putting himself second, there were plenty of instances where he was left with blue balls due to his own stubbornness and pushing your wandering hands away from him whenever you wanted to jerk him off or stuff him inside your mouth.

You used to question it, but they all went answered by the sounds of his moans when you moaned. He took pleasure from this just as you did. His large palms planted on your breasts, gripped and groped at the fat as he hopped from one to the next with his mouth. When he pulled away, they’d be swollen and overtly sensitive from his endless torture. And his eyes would gleam in a sense of pride by the way you would whine and mewl when his fingers would flicker over the nubs. However, he wouldn’t stop, thick digits playing with them as he’d sit himself up and slot his legs right in between your thighs and pressing against your sweet mound.

You immediately started searching for some reprieve, grinding your panty-clad cunt against his lower thigh. Your slick soaked into the cotton and soon soiled his bottoms, but he couldn’t care less. You were feeling good.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers. “Always so pretty when I’m making you feel this good.”

He took so much pleasure and pride in how you felt, the corner of his lips inching upwards as he watched how your eyes would gloss up and your mouth would form an ‘O.’ However, you still weren’t good with patience, your hands reaching to dig your fingers into his wrists, forcing his hands to go lower and just where you want. While you were a very vocal person when it came to being a chief usher, Nanami had found a way to silence you in the bed. The only thing it seemed you could manage to muster was his name, always battling from Nanami to Kento. Right now, it was “Kento” being sung in the air, in a low tone as you’ve trained yourself to keep silent.

“My needy little baby,” he said, but obliged to your request, pulling at the seat of the soiled cotton and dragging it down your legs. A string of your arousal follows before it snaps. You kick off the flimsy fabric in impatience, being greeted with the icy air before Nanami’s thumb prods and presses down on your clit. He can feel how much you need him, how much you want him, your sticky slick hugging at his fat digit as he glides it back and forth.

He leans down, finally meeting your face for another kiss as you throw your arms over his shoulders and your nails claw into the back of his neck. His thumb still gliding against your wet mound, he swallows all the moans that threaten to spill as your sensitive and needy bundle of nerves cause your body to jolt in need. Walls clenching, your legs tense up before they can wrap around Nanami’s torso. Simultaneously, his thumb presses at your entrance, diving in as you let out a high-pitched whine that Nanami shushes.

A reminder you’ve heard aplenty, him pressing a finger to your lips. “You’ve got to be silent, my love.”

You nod all the same, as he pushes his thumb inside, toying with your entrance with slow and little thrusts, barely grazing a thing. However, he’s no true man of torment, quick to switch it out for his index and middle with a plunge that you’re never expectant of. A gasp as your legs tighten around him, all you can feel is Nanami. He swallows your next squeal, knowing you and your body well enough to know what comes next as he indulges in your ecstasy.

Your first orgasm is quick, having built you up for some time now that the quick scissoring of his fingers brings that band inside your stomach to snap. There’s no warning, but he couldn’t care for that, loving how you make a mess of his fingers as he continues forth. It becomes harder to conceal your voice, seeing how Nanami’s come to love this dance between danger, making you feel so good that it becomes harder to hide. His next hand plays with your clit, overstimulating you and calling a fire to your body.

You pant in short breaths of air, choking on your moans as your eyes begin to water. Oh, how bad you want to let out a sound, but Nanami silences you with the deep dive of his tongue. Your second orgasm is wetter, splashing onto the both of you and opening a line of questions from the cleaners that he’ll only ignore and rush them to do their jobs. Your moans and whines are muffled out against his lips, feeling how your chest presses into him and your body spasms. There’s a discomfort to wet clothes, but he ignores it for the sake of you and what you want. He pulls away, his hot breath dancing against your skin as he pants. “Have you changed your mind yet?”

And somewhere in that foggy mind of yours, you still manage to shake your head, your defiance still holding on strong despite the vulnerable predicament you’re in. But, who is he to complain? It’s one of the reasons why he loves you so much.

When his fingers are unsheathed from you, he has to have a taste, sucking in your juices and never finding himself disappointed with your natural essence. It’s then that he’s reminded of his own wants, feeling how painstakingly hard he is under his pants, and for once feeling such a strong urge to indulge in himself. He can see it in your eyes, you slowly coming back to reality as your breathing steadies, but your pupils still swirl with lust as he feels the perpetrator for this. Your hand against his erection, you rub at it with greedy need, a silent plea for him to be inside you.

Nanami’s a fulfilling man, always checking up on you, always making sure that he’s not making his job difficult, and always making sure that he’s filling you up when he’s got you in whatever position. With your back into the comfort of the mattress, your head pressed into the pillows, and your knees pressed into your chest as well, Nanami’s sure to make sure he fulfills his duty in making sure you’re well taken care of. Bed legs steady into the carpeted ground, when he presses into you, the sound of creaking very low, it’s this that he’s the most careful with. Yet, still making sure he’s done a satisfactory job in giving you what he wants.

Pulling at his blonde locks as you hide your face in his shoulders, you conceal your sounds into the crevice of his neck as your tears kiss his skin. He whispers, “I know, I know,” when he truthfully wants to apologize for having to hide you away. Why couldn’t you have met him prior to this job and shown him what love was about before being inaugurated into the White House? With a beauty like you and a mouth like yours, he was sure you would have called out to his soul then. Now, he yearns for more the same as you do, but even with all this power, he knows he’s got limited options.

“Kento,” you whisper into his shoulders, your pussy holding him in a visceral grip. He can feel himself twitch, his orgasm coming to follow in suit of yours.

“C’mon, love,” he egged you on. It was just the words you needed to cum once more, your hands shaking as your grip on him weakened. Your releases became one with each other, mixed in together as the both of you took a moment to recuperate. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest and you snuggled into him a little bit longer before you finally mustered up the strength to sit up. You searched for each article of clothing while something was nagging Nanami in the back of his mind.

“I was thinking of not going for another term,” Nanami knew better than to let you know this piece of information. He knew that you would talk him out of it, but he wanted to be honest with you, because that’s what relationships were about— honesty and so much more.

In a flash, nearly raising your voice, you cry out, “What? What— Why?”

“It’s pointless being here if I can’t be with you,” Nanami speaks candidly.

“Kento,” he didn’t like the tone you’d taken his voice in. You were half dressed, just needed to fix your blouse. “You didn’t become president to fall in love. You see, this is why I said no in the first place. We’ve gotten ourselves too wrapped up into this.”

“And I don’t regret it one bit,” he grabs your wrist, pulling you down to the edge of the bed. “I’ve done my major part and set my policies. The people are happy. I’ll be happy not going for a second term.”

“But, there’s still so much you can do,” you speak with so much passion. “There’s still so much I can see you doing. Yes, the people love you. That’s why you should keep on going.”

Nanami shook his head, and you could tell that he still needed some more convincing. No worries, because you started conjuring up a speech to give him for the very next day. Slipping off the bed, you kiss his cheek. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Good night.”

He sighs, knowing that you’d react this way. “Good night, love.”

When you had made your way through the tunnels and back to your office, Shoko was waiting by your office door. Right as you were about to call her name, making sure she didn’t see exactly where you came from, she turns around and bumps into you.

“Oh, Shoko—”

“Ah!” Steadying the girl, you look at her sheepishly.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Miss (Y/L/N),” she looks behind you, trying to decipher exactly where you came from. “Where were you? I’ve been looking everywhere.”

“Oh, I had just come from the bathroom,” you pointed back, thankful that there was one conveniently behind you. “Did you knock? I mustn’t have heard…”

Shoko gives you a once over, taking notice of your disheveled state, but making no effort to question it any further. “That’s fine. I just came to drop these off. This week’s reports on our total spending and how much stuff we used.”

“Thank you,” you take from her. Quickly, you throw your farewells to each other, Shoko lingering on longer than needed as you enter your office, but never outright saying anything. You let out a yawn, stretching out and your chest causing your shirt to rise, showing the misaligned buttons to protrude. You should’ve gone straight home, but before you called it a night, you overlooked the paper the head chef had given you, never anticipating what she would do.

“I had eventually convinced him to run for a second term, and he won,” you roll your eyes, stating the obvious. “But things fell shortly after when that article dropped, of course. Nanami came under fire for it, but there was no hard evidence of our relationship, it was pure luck that it never went to court. It should have, but we’re not getting into that conversation.”

Flashing your hand, to dismiss that can of worms, you sigh before continuing, “I felt so guilty for nearly tarnishing his career, but he assured me that everything would be fine. He ended up resigning in the end. He wanted me to follow him, but he knew that if I did, it would just confirm our relationship— what we are. And he knew that I loved my job. I loved being chief usher.”

“Then, why’d you quit so soon?” It had been confirmed that two years after Nanami’s resignation, you followed in it. It sparked another story, this one short-lived as people could only speculate. While the two of you had been a hot topic, press during the time didn’t run heavy. People could only skepticize that Nanami paid someone to have it that way.

“I loved being chief usher, but I don’t like a conniving bitch,” you pointed out. “Figured out who ratted us out— the head chef! She said she needed the extra money and she knew a journalist who made a hefty pay. It’s a shame because I liked her, but after that whole fiasco, she made my job a lot harder and it didn’t feel the same anymore. Looking back at it now, I was a bit naive to think that things would’ve run smoothly.”

While you said that this story would hopefully answer all of the questions they had, they didn’t. Truthfully, both Nobara and Yuuji’s minds were rattling with questions, wanting more answers. Nobara leaned closer to you, chest rising and falling in excitement. “Is it true that Nanami left you a lump sum of money before his passing?”

“Is it true that Nanami left me money—” You snorted, trying to contain your laughter. You thought this story was obvious enough to know where yours and Nanami’s relationship led to. Guess you have to spell everything out for this younger generation. “Baby, of course, he did. He’s my husband.”

Yuuji and Nobara’s jaw drops. They should have seen it coming, but they thought because of the lack of new information in the media coverage revolving around you and Nanami, there was no way that the two of you could be married. How did the two of you manage to cover so much up? Yes, the former president had so much power, but how could this have stayed in the dark for so long? You chuckled at their expressions. “It was hard keeping that under wraps, but we did. It was more so Nanami’s doing, of course.

“We planned on confirming everything sooner, when he was still here. He wanted to do it over a big baby reveal, but it turned out I was infertile and that killed that plan.”

Nobara reaches out her hand, placing it on yours. She whispers, “I’m sorry…”

You manage to conceal your look of despair quickly, fanning off the piece of information like it was nothing. “It’s fine, dear. I’ve long gotten over that. We realized that if we publicized our marriage, it would only lead to more public curiosity. While he was always going to be stuck in the limelight, it was nice having our story be some sort of mystery, you know?

“Though,” you jutted your bottom lip out. “It really wasn’t a mystery, but it sure did get under people’s skin that we neither confirmed nor denied it after all this time.”

“Why now though? Why after all this time?” Yuuji asks.

“Because I’m gonna die soon,” you explain bluntly, watching the journalists blink. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic! I’m old and we all die! The Earth’s gonna have me six feet under anytime now.

“Utahime!” you call. “I’m feeling peckish. Are you two hungry again? I can have Utahime fix us something very quick.”

The two of them decline your offer as you ask Utahime to make you a light lunch. Nobara knits her eyebrows together, tapping her pen against the notepad in a light rhythm. “Why’d you choose us specifically? Wouldn’t you have liked someone more professional and experienced to document this?”

“Because you’re both so young,” you smile. “When it was Nanami’s term, you lot were probably in middle school. I didn’t need any veterans telling my story. Theirs are boring, you young children got a certain spunk I like and I trust you’ll do my story some justice.”

This sparks a newfound pride in Nobara and Yuuji, making them feel like they’re at least doing something right in this career. “After all, I’m paying you guys a good $50,000 each!”

After asking you more questions and both of them actually taking up that offer to be fed some more, Nobara and Yuuji finally call it to an end. When they stand from the dining area, they feel lighter, a sense of clarity washing over them as they look at each. They had never agreed on how to approach a story, always finding a way to bicker about A, B and C. However, on this story that you were so willing to share, they silently agree on just how to approach things.

Like a good host, you bid them a farewell on their way out.

“It was nice meeting you,” Yuuji grins. Nobara nods in agreement.

“It was nice meeting you both,” you chuckle. “Feel free to stop anytime y’all want. It’s getting lonely with just me and Utahime all the time.”

They take you up on that offer, having to note down your address for later reference. Yuuji decides to go ahead, leaving Nobara alone to linger on a bit longer. You figure that she still has more to ask, so you wait.

“Can I be honest?” Nobara asks. You’ve quickly become a blueprint for how things should look for her love life, making her yearn for a relationship like yours. “I really hope to meet someone that makes me smile the way Nanami makes you. Your story’s the closest we’ve got to a real life fairytale in this country.”

You laugh at her comparison, your hand falling to Nobara’s shoulder as you grip it gently. “Dear, I’m sure you’ll find it. You’ve got a spark in you that reminds me of myself. If I was able to snag the president’s attention, I’m sure you’ll find someone that’s equally fulfilling.”

Nobara finally gives her goodbyes, heading to the car and jumping inside. With Yuuji driving this time, she rushes him. “Hurry up! I wanna get back and get started.”

“Alright, alright,” he huffs. “You were the one who took the extra minute to talk to her.”

“Shut up,” Nobara sneers, hearing the engine rev as Yuuji starts pulling out the driveway. When Nobara and Yuuji glance back at the entrance, you’re still there, watching them pull out safely. With a last wave goodbye, the journalists head back to their merry ways.

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THE TRUTH ABOUT FORMER PRESIDENT, NANAMI KENTO, AND FORMER CHIEF USHER’S, [YOUR FULL NAME], RELATIONSHIP

By Kugisaki Nobara and Itadori Yuuji | Jujutsu Kaisen Press | April 4, 2046 | 6:54 PM

On March 25, 2025 at approximately 1:04 p.m., an article had been released exposing a relationship that the nation saw coming, President Nanami Kento was in a secret relationship with his chief usher, [your full name]. It shocked the nation as people always questioned why a man like him wasn’t taken. Ever since the reveal of such intimate details being revealed, the nation and global sources all wanted to pitch in their two senses. However, despite the unconsented release of information from an anonymous tip, (or the former head chef at the time), President Nanami denied all claims of their relationship even happening.

We all knew that was a lie!

And we’re here to confirm that it was, in fact, a lie as the former chief usher, [your full name], has trusted us to report more intimate details of their relationship with the late president. You see, if it wasn’t love-at-first-sight like the initial story claimed it to be. No, it was more so… nuisances to lovers! Read more…

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“Kugisaki, Itadori.” A shaggy headed boy calls for their attention. Standing there, Fushiguro Megumi, stands there with his typical nonchalant expression. He points to his left, “Mei Mei wants to speak with the both of you.”

With their desks seated right next to each other, they both nod and head towards the pointed direction. They walk in silence, believing it was just another article they’d be assigned to cover when they entered the personal office. Yuuji knocks before being called in, the door creaking when opened. Mei Mei doesn’t look up, just telling the two of them to sit as she clicks away at the computer screen, multitasking.

“I’m very proud of you both for covering the former chief usher’s article,” Mei Mei praises all the while never looking at the two rookie journalists. “We got a lot of positive reviews about your writing. And while I don’t doubt that you two are a very talented pair, I still wonder why she chose the two of you.”

Finally does Mei Mei look at the two of them, eyes narrowing down in question. There’s a line of silence that’s suffocating, having the young adults shrug in question. Mei Mei sighs, pulling out two envelopes. “These were addressed to specifically go to you. A young woman with a scar across her face. Was really adamant on handing it to the two of you specifically, but you guys weren’t in. She reluctantly handed them to me after some persuasion.”

Mei Mei holds the envelopes within their reach, watching as they’re about to grab it before sliding her hand back. “I was this close to opening it myself, but I have integrity. Do you guys know what it could be?”

Truthfully, the two journalists had forgotten about your money-led promise, both shrugging their shoulders with honesty when they claimed that they didn't know what could be in the envelopes. Mei Mei knew the two idiots well enough to know when they were lying, utterly disappointed to see no crack in their facades. Giving up, she shoves the envelopes in their direction. She has a hunch on what they could be, but hoping that they’d both tell for themselves. Carefully opening the envelopes, Nobara and Yuuji are greeted with the pretty coverings of a card. Both saying ‘Thank You,’ they flip it open. Their eyes flash straight towards the black-ink inscribed into the cardstock paper, reading the heartfelt message left by you. At the end of the note, you ask them to be sure to visit soon.

It isn’t until they look to the right of the card, a check made out in their name with the promised $50,000 each. It takes everything in Yuuji to hold himself together, but Nobara lets out a gasp. Mei Mei leans into her seat, “What? What is it?”

“No!” Nobara bursts, standing up quickly to run away from the impending interrogation.

“Is it money?” Mei Mei asks, shooting her head towards Yuuji. Eyes widening, he stands up as he immediately shakes his head ‘no,’ heading straight for the door.

“I think Nobara and I are gonna take our lunch breaks early,” he says, his voice surprisingly holding up together before he dashes out of the office completely. Jumping to her feet, Mei Mei’s quick to chase after them, prompting Yuuji to grab a hold of Nobara’s arm once he catches up to her. They can hear their name being called as they make a run for it, running by their desks to grab their stuff and head right for the door. Nobara throws her keys to Yuuji, “You’re driving! You go faster!”

No need to debate, Yuuji hops into the driver’s seat as Nobara simultaneously gets in on the passenger side. When the engine revs, Mei Mei finally catches up. They can hear her shout, “Wait! How much did they give you? Tell me! I just want to know!”

When he backs out of the space, Mei Mei shouts, “You’re both fired if you drive away! You’ll be blacklisted from other companies, too!” Speeding down the street, Yuuji and Nobara are quick to call her bluff. Thirty minutes later, a message from Mei Mei: I’ve got another article I want you both to cover. Hurry on back.

sticky notes ⋆ in real life, nanami would have been bill clinton-ed, but in my world, that wouldn't happen.

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