#eventually I will learn character names
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something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.
“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”
#makoto naegi#Danganronpa character analysis#Danganronpa#danganronpa thh#danganronpa future arc#I fucking love Makoto Naegi man.#I think there’s a fine line of nuance to Makoto that’s easy to miss bc he doesn’t really make it known#he’s not a pushover and he’s not overpowered. he’s a people pleaser but he will say what needs to be said#he’s an immovable object and the exact opposite of Junko but he’s also just a normal guy who’s optimistic and (un)lucky#he isn’t invincible but he has immense power to his words the same way Junko did#if anything his superpower is being kind above all else. he’s compassionate to some of the worst people in the world.#he was even conpassionatr to an extent to Junko. he didnt want her to kill herself despite everything she’s done#and he still acknowledges that for years she was a classmate and friend.#I do think the more he learned abt what she did the more he’s come to actually hate her though#post the first game he always refers to her without a suffix to her name which is one of the most subtle rude things you can do#it means you have zero respect for the person you’re referring to#and he speaks about her with some venom he doesn’t use for anyone else in the future arc#he’s not incapable of feeling negative emotions#I really liked the future arc scene bc it showed that Makoto DID experience enough despair to have overcome him if he didn’t refuse#and that it still affects him deeply. people treat him like he’s either this perfect ideal Chad or this baby chick who’s so delicate#and no one really focuses on how makoto shoulders so much and yet is still vulnerable.#honestly that guy was DUE for a mental breakdown even without the tape. it would have happened eventually#I actually wrote one based on him finally hitting a breaking point after giving so much of himself away and keeping nothing for himself#that his issues that he shoves down constantly finally can’t be held down anymore. Hajime helps him bc he knows how that feels#it was a LONG time ago that I wrote that but honestly if I can remember where i was going w it I might finish it#it was initially an rp but I could make it a fic#anyway. the point is Makoto is SO much more complex than people give him credit for#the most fundamental thing about him is that he’s normal and that’s ok! that’s what helps him rise!
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honestly as someone who never really got into lotr but independently also came up with the idea that the most sensible way to handwave everyone in a fictional setting speaking english & using terms that would have no reason to have originated in that setting is to just pretend its all a translation/localization of whatever language theyre actually speaking, it was such a relief to learn that tolkien also did that. like oh ok so im not crazy for wanting to do it that way. or like, maybe i am, but at least in the same way that a wildly successful fantasy author was, so i think im good
#like it just makes sense!! yeah you COULD go through & nitpick english so you take out all the loanwords & words with religious origin etc#anything that wouldnt make sense in the setting youre writing for. words relating to places that dont exist there. you COULD do that#(& iirc there are some authors that HAVE done things like that which is incredible i love that)#but its so much easier to just be like. well these are not the actual exact words they were saying. they were not speaking english#bc why would they be?? why would this fantasy world have english At All. even if u call it by a different name. u know??#why would they come up with the same sounds and the same alphabet and the same grammar and everything#it just makes more sense for it to not actually BE english to begin with!!!#i would love to eventually make up all the conlangs in my various settings but unfortunately i do not have the time & energy for that rn#so im just using real languages as stand-ins. which does mean i will either need to learn them or get someone to translate for me lmAO#but im fine with that. also learning more languages would make it easier to make a conlang anyway bc u have more knowledge of#language structures besides english & u can use that to add more variety..... maybe someday ill get to the point where i can do that#its always been something that interested me tbh i used to make up fake alphabets all the time but never really got much farther#they werent all exact 1:1 w a-z either like some combinations would have their own character or id omit some#god okay anyway i gotta go to work#oopsie i made the wrong word italic. i fixed it tho
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my hxh experience is also very confusing bc i started watching it like 2+ years ago at my partners apartment, but then i think we stopped for a bit / we moved around a bit, and kinda just never got back to it. then a while after we moved in with each other wayyyy later we eventually picked it back up and then this time in dub form bc it's easier for me to focus if i dont have to try and read everything quick enough and also see whats happening jfkldshg so it was like
sub version watched up through like halfway through york new auction arc or whatever
[2+ YEAR LONG GAP???]
picking right back up exactly in the midway spot where we left off, now in dub, i cannot remember Jack Shit and have to keep asking my partner [who has seen/read it before] what's going on and who everyone is every 5 seconds. there are so many characters and i remembered like 6 of them at best fdhjvlksjldhg. killua's grandpa and dad showed up like an episode or 2 after we picked it back up and i was like who are these guys. where did they come from. tbh being told who they were didnt help bc i still didnt understand why or how they were there dfshjfghjgf
#and then they did it again in chimera ant arc.... where did killuas dad come from since when was he in on the plan#AND WHERED THEY GO. I HAVENT SEEN THEM COME BACK SINCE THEN.... did they actually leave this time... i dont know#also dude i miss netero :[ we r like a couple episodes after the big mega heart attack explosion thing#i love a cool old man#i still struggle to remember peoples names bc god there are SO many characters#but chimera ant arc is so long that you at least spend a lot of time with them so theres some names ive eventually learned#but im still me so i cant tell you how many times i called meleoron 'lemeleon'#it's like pokemon with him i cant. remember it very clearly and i mix it up hardcore#other people i just cant remember at all so im like uhhh. ponytail guy <- which barely narrows it down they keep finding ponytail guys....#nobunaga.... shoot.... some other guy i think. actually maybe not that many idr LOL#dont even get me started on the spiders. it took me forever just to get nobunaga lol#there are soooo many of them and i had forgotten the first chunk we'd watched after the irl timeskip#so i was in realtime trying to recall who eveyrone was while they were doing shit and it was REALLY CONFUSING#i really need to restart from the beginning but im gonna wait til we finish the anime lol#oh also i like. completley forgot illumi or w/e was doing the hunter exam with hisoka in that first arc#bc literally theres like ONE or two brief moments in. idk if it was greed island or right before it#where hisokas like yeah i calld a friend. and illumis there like 🧍#and i was like he knows killuas brother??? theyre friends???#bc i just had no memory of them interacting before fdlkhgjkf#i like kinda forgot illumi existed til then i think jdkslf or maybe when he was haunting killua idr#actually we went back and watched part of an episode when killua was w/his family#bc i couldnt remember ANYTHING i was like. why was he there again. dont they suck or something. what happened.#and tbh. i still dont get what their vibe is hwhwhfhehg#things to revisit once i get out of the ant pit
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maybe i should have gone into practical effects instead of computer science...
#when i was in middle school i used to use red and black pens + spit for blending to make it look like the backs of my hands were torn open#i can't believe it's almost 4am. i just spent 5 hours typing up an essay about MM's erik that i just fuckin privated bc i was embarrassed#AND I STILL NEVER SPELL HIS NAME RIGHT THE FIRST TIME AAAAAAAA#i was right but im going to save all my points for the fanfic im currently planning out and promptly NEVER GOING TO ACTUALLY WRITE#I say shoving my plans for my h2o s3 rewrite off the table#yes i skipped from s2 to s3 i had a BRILLIANT idea [season 3 h2o spoilers ahead be wary my mutuals who are still watching]#okay so you know how lewis goes to the american institute of marine bio in the middle of 3? since this is tied to my s2 rewrite fic i wante#to actually finally reasonably re-introduced dr denman to the story because i never liked that she just fucked off at the end of s1#despite WITNESSING the moon pool magic. so i made it so she runs into lewis while doing a presentation for the college and they have a chat#(because her JAW paper plays an important part in my s2 rewrite bc i imagine lewis is the kind of guy who SAYS he deleted every copy of#it... but ACTUALLY he secretly printed himself out a copy to study in private to compare to his own notes bc#[lewis voice] come *on* guys just THINK of the progress that he could make with this! [grabby hands in front of chest])#so yeah they have a chat and Linda kind of gives Lewis the opposite dilemma in s3 that Louise gives him in s1 about science and magic#since SHE knows about the moon pool and has been biding her time and she knows Lewis knows and Lewis is like ah... uh oh.#it will eventually tie into the idea it's not about forcing science and magic together or separating them#its abt respectfully and responsibly utilizing both to see their fullest potential. which lewis learned in s2 and Linda has... not.#BUT#later on she gets a call from 1 (one) ryan who is like 'hey so i heard u did environmental studies on mako for dr bennett a couple years ag#and i was wondering if you've seen anything weird there as im currently doing a-' and she's immediately like 'YOU SON OF A BITCH IM IN'#and he's like 'wha-' and she's like 'i have already booked my plane tickets we're going to have a great time we have lots to talk about :)'#and wheeee now they have someone who knows about mermaids on their team and it's the perfect way to bring lewis back to relevancy in s3 :D#it also gives me reason to have two bad bitches (linda and sophie) meet and get to know each other which is not a dynamic ive seen in#any of the H2O fics i've ever read so im very hyped to delve into how they'll play off each other#also charlotte is there so technically three bad bitches (only in my au Charlotte never lost her tail and is part of the gang she just move#because she felt like she needed to leave to really be able to find herself without being in her grandmother's shadow but she comes back bc#well... it's season 3 mako is sounding the fucking emergency alarms everyone is showing up sdkghkfjhg)#im also so so so hyped to show u guys who's coming back in the s2 rewrite because it ISNT denman and i think everyone thinks it will be :3c#(i said she when telling ppl to look forward to a familiar face... but can u blame me for getting hype she's one of my favorite characters!#i love u H2O#cruddy rambles
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I'm in the marauders fandom I the way that I have never seen or read any of the Harry Potter movies/books and I refuse to do so !!
all of my knowledge comes from fanfiction and random fun facts I come across occasionally and I won't take the time to google what's actually canon or not! I make my own canon with the parts I like
#marauders era#harry potter#the marauders#to be fair most of the fandom is alreadu run on delusion alone#if i dont like smth ir simply isnt canon and it didnt happen#i will learn all of it eventually#i hope#everytime i see a name i dont recocngize im like “oh cool new character unlocked”
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started a new lancer game with some friends and yeah i'm playing an nhp named sirius that goes by "siri" so i can make a bunch of jokes (i love them so bad)
#lancer rpg#lancer pilot#lancer nhp#SIRI WHAT'S MY NAME?#YOUR ADONIS BLUE BUT YOU ASKED ME TO CALL YOU#hatsune miku was a launchpoint for making this character too so thank you hatsune miku#they are an actor who is currently trying to blend into a pilot school so they can learn people skills#and also how to pilot a mech which is DANGEROUS AF#i love this little guy aaaaaaaaaaaaaa#cannot wait to draw them with my friends characters#and i cannot wait to see what happens when they eventually cascade hhhhhhhhhh
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Added another character to In Perp, time to try really really hard not to ship him with Laz
#hes a dean at a university#his name is Dean Langdon Caldwell#and hes quite a bit older than Laz so there is that#but hes also very rich and transmasc himself so#theres something kind of romantic in the scenes ive written cuz Caldwell generally isn't a huge fan of Laz as a person initially#but he gets softer with Laz the more he learns about them#and eventually lets them in on some more experimental hrt and stuff in the setting#and i just#i love them#in perpetuum#laz#dean caldwell#my characters
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working on a fic i may not post but i like this moment
#qsmp#character is an oc. his name is Charles and he will soon learn he just did a big mistake.#Time to face the horrors buddy#i may draw Charles eventually. he's not a cool bear though.#qsmp fanfiction
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hey friend of mine said to call you dream the green smile man. do I have permission to kill
POINTING. MY NAME CAME FIRST. PLEASE KILL
#honestly when i chose my username my biggest worry was a german fortnite youtuber who had it#anyways origin story! it came from the name of one of my two childhood ocs#she ended up kind of being a character i projected all my thoughts onto and ended up being. a little bit self destructive and gloomy#and her counterpart was her chaotic sister (who i eventually turned in to just a friend) who i based off the persona i tried to give off#their names were dreamsy and sapph <- (originally dream and sapphire)#anyways when i was super young i used to care a lot more about dreamsy as the one who was representative of all my issues#but over time i actually started thinking about the mental toll sapph would have with the narrative id made of her constantly putting-#-herself and her own mental health second to helping dreamsy#and it kind of turned into a narrative about boundaries and learning to take care of yourself first#now that i think about it this was kind of. dark for a story i made up when i was like 7 or 8#but ive had these two in the back of my head for years#theyre the only ocs i ever made that i really cared about#i wasnt really thinking too hard about it when i picked the name though i just chose my ocs name and went with it
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also I've been thinking about Des my oc Des (short for Destiel) and about the song Os Anjos by Legião Urbana (a song about an angel being so so tired from all the evils of humanity) and about DTA Castiel (a fallen angel who is disillusioned with humanity) (and about how even in canon both Dean and Cas are very jaded and sarcastic guys), and I think I'm having some Thoughts about what to make of Des's personality
#youni originals#modern weirdos#des#basically all I have on him so far is he's an actual cowboy. like has his own little ranch. also very flirty#which is very dean#but thinking about an angel being so fucking tired of all the bullshit going on in the world and deciding to retire and#become a cowboy instead. and eventually learning of destiel and seeing sides (both good and bad) of himself in both of the characters#and being like fuck it that's who i am now. and naming himself destiel.#plus i loooove when angels are actually huge bitches#like yes this is a cosmic being who is good and righteous. and if you look at it wrong it WILL tell you to go fuck yourself.#also thinking about him being kinda neighbors with mill (reclusive lich who hates vampires) and having a flirty gay thing with her#like they're not together at all but they flirt and tease each other (or at least des does) to the point of people thinking they are#also des as an angel has so much knowledge (and possibly powers) that mill as a wizard would probably find useful#also the idea of an angel (holy being) and a lich (corrupted undead human) being friends. very fun
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HOLD ON
I'm so dumb holy shit. I'm literally half way through SBR and am only NOW realizing that Johnny would have a southern accent because he's from GODDAMN KENTUCKY. gdi my life is a lie
#jjba#B reads JoJo#hi my name's Jared I'm 19 and I never learned how to fucking read#ultimately it doesn't change anything but like#I've been missing out on that added character flavor this whole time#ooh I hope they actually give him an accent when it's eventually dubbed
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There's smth rly fun abt having stories based off of dreams because you just have a bunch of dream based worldbuilding that you just sorta have to work with now. Like oh a ring of infinite dragons run through the earth eternally consuming eachother? Guess I have to explain that now. Also that's sick as hell why didn't I think of that while awake
#rat rambles#oc posting#that damn dream story has captivated me deeply every since Ive had it even if I havent rly done much with it#I have been brainstorming some stuff relating the worldbuilding today tho#mostly what the actual deals of two main characters are#aka grim and the unnamed doggy#because Ive taken stabs at explaining them a couple times but have never rly landed on anything I rly care for#and theyre like The reason this dream stuck with me so hard so that is important#long story short theyre both god created beings that have been in a eternal brawl for what for them has been about 5 years for them#externally its been much much longer since anytime one of them successfully defeats the other they both go dormant for abt 50 years#they dont feel any of that bonus time tho so for them theyve been at this for ages with little to no break#grim usually wins since she was specifically trained to be the victor of the two everytime#but she isnt guaranteed a win by any means and has lost at least once#she likes to not think abt those times tho and pretend they never happened because if she acknowledged them then shed have to think through#the implications of that and she does not have the emotional or mental stability to be able to handle that#shes like. 16 to be clear.#the dog is about 21 or so Id say? Im still figuring things out so idk for sure yet#the basic premise of the story is that after so long of fighting they've both been gradually getting weaker and more exhausted each time#and after one iteration where they were both fighting high in the sky the two in the next iteration find themselves fallen very far apart#grim spends the story trying to find the dog and accidentally getting adopted along the way#and the dog ends up allowing some children to take them home so they can hide and recover and they end up getting attached#it's mostly just abt the two learning to exist as individuals and not weapons and finally beginning to process the trauma this whole cycle#has left them with and eventually breaking the cycle and chosing to stay with their respective new families#this was all stuff that was actually like in the dream which is why it stuck with me so hard but also that dream was mean to me for#dropping all of that and only giving one character a name. god.#tbf its kind of made up for by it being in like the coolest scene in the dream since it was grim naming herself that while talking to the#dog at the end since she had been referred to as a grim reaper or as just a reaper in the dream before that point so it was like a moment#of defiance and also claiming an identity for herself that wasnt just her title#shes a silly billy she also has a scythe that can shoot lasers
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Ash is way less annoying in the sub (or I guess I should call him Satoshi in this version)
I'm so used to the outrageous things he says in the dub that make him sound super egotistical, but in the sub he's just a normal kid that's perhaps a bit too ambitious but definitely not in a pretentious way.
#I remember watching the dub when I was younger and wanting to punch this kid in the face 😂😂#But I'm enjoying him being the protagonist now#Also that uncensored slap in the first episode gives me hopes for this marathon#I'm hoping to learn the characters original names quickly#Names are always a problem for me and having to memorise 2 for each character is going to be hard#I'm definitely not going to watch all 26 season now but I'm going to start#Slowly and steadily I'll get there eventually
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Actually using my computer for hobbies
#Sel talks#I am very interested in ripping models out of vampyr and playing dolls with them#Unfortunately I don't know where to find uploads of them so I am having a fun learning experience in ripping unity models#Genuinely#I am solving a fun puzzle while learning the softwares#Looking to practice with some smaller animations; a character slipping (inspired by a fic)#A first pass on a few notable scenes from another fic that I'd like to eventually make bigger animations of when I get familiar w the ropes#I would also like to look into some more substantial mods to the original game than just model swaps or texture editing#Namely cutscene editing and seeing if I can't get another character to follow you around#The second might be a bit difficult cause ai pathfinding but it'll be a fun experiment if I can keep the momentum up#Trying to keep a healthy relationship w my media this time and not burn myself out#Trying to catch myself when I notice I'm trying to force my interest and take a break w other medias I'm interested in#It will be. Slow going.#Actually picked up my tablet to draw on instead of using it as a smaller second screen :p#Waiting for my image editors to re-download :3
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i think the main thing that bothers me about fanon families (because i am a picky pedant) is that for the most part, they ignore things like how said families would impact the characters and overall story. like it's one thing to add siblings and other random relations just for flavor, I can't judge there, I do it myself... but you gotta keep in mind how they slot in. who are these people related to? how are they similar? what are the common learned behaviors of the family - because they're there even if said character makes a purposeful break from said family - and how do they manifest? why and where is this person even involved in the story?
like don't get me wrong, this sort of playing around is a lot of fun. but it's fun (to me anyways) because people are so complex and there's so many facets to them, so there's all sorts of ways for their bonds with others to interact and add flavor to the plot.
#it's both funny and sad actually how simple fandoms make characters become and i like adding more complexity#like alyne#margaret and alyne are fancharacters. margaret's the sister of jake torrance. alyne is pellinore warthrops illegitimate daughter#they can add flavor and background and higher stakes to the monstrumologist or they can stand alone#because their story doesn't actually have much to DO with monstrumology except that their relations are monstrumologists#their story is that of a single mom deciding to raise her brilliant scientist daughter in a fishing town on the gulf coast#said brilliant scientist daughter doing what she loves and eventually learning about her father who was also a scientist#but never meeting him for sure because he died a month before she arrived in his hometown#its a story about missed connections and what you do afterwards#it has potential to intersect with the monstrumologist but it's a character study more than anything#of what would happen if someone with pellinore's tendencies grew up without the influence of monstrumology and money#anyway ramble over i was thinking about this in the car#also about how alyne would react to learning her father's name is PELLINORE after the king searching for the questing beast#and her name is ALYNE after king pellinore's daughter he abandoned to die because of his own blindness in his hunt for the beast#you inherited the legacy of the legend but your role in it is to die and make your father more compelling and tragic.#you inherited a yoke meant to be shuffled off in tragedy and pointless death. but your father is dead so the yoke is meaningless
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THE HEART GROWS FONDER
pairing : kento nanami x f!reader summary : (requested) — kento nanami loved you before he even knew you, and his feelings were the one thing he never questioned. like pieces of a puzzle, you fit together. whatever happens, your feelings never waver. cw : childhood friends to lovers, reader is v emotional, canon events/jjk0 spoilers, mentions of character death, mutual and intense pining, miscommunication lack of communication, mild one-bed-trope?, platonic!satoru (bc apparently i am unable to write anything without mentioning him), light profanity, pet names, talk of wedding, sweet fluff, a good chunk of angst, slight jealousy, no use of y/n word count : 10.1 k
Kento was a knowledgeable man.
He knew how long it took to get from one place in Tokyo to another, no matter what time of day it was. Well aware of all the best routes for traveling the city most efficiently, even during rush hours.
He knew all the ways to make the most money. Not what he was proudest of, but working hard had garnered him a set of useful skills that made him a good employee, a real asset to the company.
He knew how to read a map, a skill long forgotten by most in this day and age. Should he ever find himself in a situation where there was no reception, he would be able to get his hands on a sheet displaying the nearby areas and figure out how to return to civilisation.
He knew how to best take care of his body. He had done extensive research to make sure he moved his body correctly during workouts to not harm himself. He wasn’t interested in aching joints when he was old and gray.
And he knew he loved you — since the very first moment his eyes landed on you all those years ago.
He remembered the exact moment in excruciating detail as well, like how he had turned a little scared at the unfamiliar sensation of a racing heartbeat. When pressing his hand to his chest, he felt the rapid thumping. He quickly realised it was caused by the sight of you when it happened every time he spotted you.
His dad would tease him whenever he caught Kento sitting in the windowsill, chubby cheeks resting on his forearms as he gazed lovingly towards the little girl playing in her front yard a few houses down. “I’m sure she would love to play with you.” His face would turn bright crimson, a colour that had become all too common in the Nanami household whenever you were brought up, before an embarrassed Kento would stomp up to his room.
He didn’t learn your name until the first day of school — your parents had arranged for the two of you to walk to school together. He had been over the moon when he heard the news, pure excitement filling his body to the point where he could not sit still. But the moment he was stood in front of you, your voice sweet as honey when introducing yourself, his throat dried out and he turned tongue tied. His mom placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing his feet back on the ground, “Kento,” he croaked weakly before disappearing into his jacket.
With small feet carrying you to and from school, you tried to force a conversation out of him but to no prevail. He remained shy and quiet, eventually resulting in a statement that had saddened him more than he could have anticipated; “you don’t talk much, do you?”
There had been no ill intent in your words, but it had Kento distance himself from you. What was supposed to blossom into a friendship (and maybe even more with time), only simmered down to him consistently trialing five steps behind you on the path to school that became all too bleak when it hadn’t turned out how he had imagined it.
His infatuation didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon either. If anything, now having the opportunity to observe you in closer proximity only deepened his feelings. He now got to witness the outgoing and bubbly personality that was wrapped in your cute exterior, exceeding all his expectations of what he had imagined you would be like — fascinated by how you seemed to excel in aspects where he lacked.
And the more time that passed, it seemed the day he would find the courage to catch up and walk along side you traveled further out of his reach.
He continued to admire from afar, watching as you earned yourselves new friendships as easily as putting your shoes on in the morning. Kento wasn’t the only one drawn to your outgoing personality and charming smile, his heart breaking a little when you formed a tight knit friend group and he didn’t get to be a part of it.
That’s how it went. Kento sort of just blended into the background, never making a number of himself. He was nearly certain no one really knew he even existed at all (except the teachers, who absolutely adored him). Day after day, he sat by himself with a book in his hands, only ever looking up to admire you for a few seconds as you would play with your friends.
However, he preferred the quiet life in school more than what it evolved into as second grade rolled around.
During recess, he would sit with his book, same as always, counting the minutes until school was over so he would walk those five familiar steps behind you — that’s when two third graders had approached him, their intention clear as day.
Their antics continued for two weeks — until what he thought was the voice of an angel interrupted.
“Hi there.”
Kento would recognise that voice anywhere, turning towards the source to see you, huge grin plastered on your face, both hands behind your back as you stared down the two third graders.
“What’s going on here?” You asked in such a sweet and innocent tone, but all three of the boys could see there was something borderline unfriendly in your eyes that was not present in your words.
“Doesn’t concern you,” one of the mean kids bit back.
“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips together before shifting to a serious tone. “I think it does, because from over there-“ you pointed in the direction of where you had stood moments earlier, “it looked like you were picking on my friend.”
Friend? Had he heard you right?
Before they could retaliate, you had already opened your mouth again, “I’ll scream! The adults will come and you’ll be in biiiig trouble!” Your tone had been so cheerful, but that same threatening intent lingered in your gaze — a look one did not want to receive from a stubborn, little seven year old.
It seemed like your scare tactic worked, because after grumbling to themselves for a few seconds, they shuffled away with their tails between their legs. And once they were far enough away not to be a bother anymore, you squatted down on the gravel beside Kento, wrapping your arms around your legs.
“You okay, Kento?” Completely transformed, not a hint of your malice present any longer, just soft and genuine concern when speaking his name.
He blinked a few times, using the back of his hand to dry the few tears that had watered up in the corner of his eyes before he answered you. “‘M fine,” he sniffled, then daring to look you in the eyes to mutter a shy “thank you.”
“Anytime.”
You couldn’t explain why you had decided to interfere — because labelling Kento a friend wasn’t entirely true. The boy had barely said a word to you for the year you had known him, but you had just been filled with anger when you witnessed the older kids choose to pick on him. He did not have a mean bone in his body. And maybe somewhere along the line, you had gained a soft spot for the reserved kid, having not been able to stop glancing over your shoulder from time to time when you walked to and from school, just to make sure he was still there.
Never had Kento imagined that the taunting from his upperclassman would be his biggest blessing to date. He no longer sat alone during lunch, but instead accepted your invite to eat with you and your little clique.
And finally your friendship with Kento had the opportunity to grow.
Thanks to you, school had become a lot more enjoyable for him after that. The walks to and from school was no longer spent with an awkward distance, now matching your pace as you both indulged in small talk from the moment you left school until he left you at your door.
He knew he should have been satisfied, and in one way he was. He was finally allowed to call you his friend after all, but during school hours, you usually hung out the entire group. And on your spare time, you had a tendency to reserve your time just for the girls. So while he wished for more, he continued to shoot longing, and not so subtle, gazes across the table.
It abruptly changed when you were thirteen, walking home from school like any other day, when your blunt question had cut through the conversation.
“Hey, you want to go to the movies with me?”
“What?” Kento’s thirteen year old brain had not been able to comprehend the question, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at you with big eyes, swallowing the massive lump in his throat. Had you just asked him on a date?
You stopped when you noticed he did, staring right back at him like this wasn’t a big deal. “None of the girls were interested, and you’re the only boy in our group I can tolerate without any of the girls,” you rolled your eyes. You had turned a little feisty when entering your teens.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, drawing his lips into an awkward line, hoping he could play it off as a smile.
Your deadpanned expression immediately twisted into one of pure joy. “Great!”
Kento had stood in front of his mirror all afternoon, using both his hands to smoothen the crinkles of his shirt, treating it very much like a date. He didn’t even realise how long he had been stressing in his room until his mom came knocking, telling him you were waiting outside.
He had been a little disappointed when he saw you, because it became very evident you did not consider it a date. Wearing the same outfit you had worn to school that day, resting on the handlebars of your bike. “C’mon, we need to get popcorn before the movie starts,” you nagged, just the tiniest bit annoyed.
When stood in the kiosk, he had offered to pay for the popcorn, like the good, little gentleman he had been raised to be. “Oh, no need. Mom gave me money to pay for it,” you said cheerfully with a shrug and a smile. “Thanks, though.”
The movie couldn’t hold Kento’s attention, even if he wanted to, because for the whole ninety minutes you had your knee rested against his. The sensation of the shy touch of your leg had his heart beat so loud against his ribcage, he was scared you might turn to him and tell it to shush so you could hear the movie.
It wasn’t much, but the pressing feeling was definitely prominent enough that you had to be aware of it too. And in his mind, it seemed only logical you kept your leg still against his because you wanted it to touch him. But whenever he flickered his eyes over to you, you seemed utterly unbothered, attention fixated on the screen as your hand continued to grab popcorn from the bucket.
He tried to keep his breath even, letting his tension spill out by clenching and unclenching his fists. He was so determined to sit completely still, scared the tiniest flinch would cause you to shift your leg away from him.
Trips to the movies, just in each other’s company, became a regular occurrence after that. And about half of the time, you let him pay… only because you paid the other half, but he let himself wallow in the idea that he was treating you for the evening.
He was in high school when one of your friends had asked about it. “What’s really going on there, Kento?”
He had immediately decided to play dumb. Not because he was embarrassed, but if there was even the slightest chance it would feed them material they could use to make you uncomfortable, he wanted to avoid it. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, man,” he laughed mockingly. “You and her,” nodding towards where you stood with your girlfriends in the cafeteria line. “The two of you hang out with each other more than us these days.”
“I don’t know, we’re friends?” Kento shrugged, almost certain he was able to play it off as casual.
“Friends? Right, friends who constantly go on movie dates together.”
“They’re not dates,” was all he had been able to say to defend himself, feeling his cheeks grow hot like they had done when he was younger.
They had all chucked at him then. “Yeah, whatever man. Congratulations bagging the prettiest girl in school,” was the last thing that was said before you and the rest of the girls joined their table. You sat down beside Kento, like always.
Carefully, you had nudged his arm to get his attention. “You okay?” You asked quietly so only he could hear.
He gave you a weak but genuine smile. “Yes, just lost in thought is all.” You smiled back at him, making his heart skip a beat.
You don’t remember when it changed for you. If it had been a gradual thing, or if you had just woken up one day with this feeling — but something was definitely different.
The realisation had hit you mid sentence. Rambling on about some meaningless topic, like you always did, and suddenly you noticed the way he was looking at you.
He was listening so intently, not missing a single word coming from your mouth, a faint smile stamped at the corner of his lips and a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t really noticed before. You only managed to snap out of it when he spoke your name.
“Am I losing you by not talking?” He teased before taking a sip out of his coffee.
“Shit,” you muttered, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “I just remembered this group assignment I have due tomorrow.” A lie — and an obvious one at that. But Kento didn’t get a moment to ask any follow-up questions before you had gathered your stuff and rushed to say goodbye, leaving him alone in the cafe.
For the entire walk home, you thought about Kento, now suddenly in a new light, reflecting over the entirety of your friendship.
You became aware of how he always seemed to prioritise you in the group without hesitation. You had just brushed it off, assuming he felt indebted to you for coming to his rescue when you were seven. But you realised now how ridiculous that sounded.
You thought of all the times he had come running when you had asked for him. Whether it was after a fight with one of your girlfriends, or a date that had gone horribly wrong, he dropped everything to be by your side.
You realised now why you always caught yourself answering with a frown when girls came to ask you about him. As you had gotten older, he had definitely grown into his looks, a subtle kind of handsome that snuck up on you.
When you got home, you had pulled out your phone to send a text to apologise for bailing so abruptly. But you typed and deleted the message twenty times over, anxiety you had never felt about him before overwhelming you. In the end, you ended up not sending anything at all, feeling like no words sufficed.
And the next time you met, you acted as if nothing had happened, and he just went along with it.
You tried desperately to act as if nothing had changed, beyond terrified you would scare him off or make him uncomfortable if he picked up on your new and revolutionary feelings for him. If there was one thing you were absolute certain about, it was that you would never do anything to jeopardise the friendship you had with him. There was no competition of what person in your life you cherished the most; Kento Nanami. You’d be the earth's biggest fool to gamble that away for anything.
When you were 16, you nearly caved.
In your desperate attempt of keeping things normal, you had continued your meaningless escapades — which meant going on terrible dates with even more terrible guys — turns out teenage boys are just assholes by default.
“It’s their loss,” Kento cooed in a warm tone, sitting beside you on your bed with a comforting arm around your shoulders.
In all honesty, you didn’t even care all that much about the date. You couldn’t even remember the guy’s name. No, your mind was way more interested in how his strong hand cupped your arm so perfectly.
You turned to look at him, faces closer than ever before. He happily held your gaze — you were just hoping he was able to read the messages it conveyed.
Tell me to stop seeing these guys, and I’ll stop.
Tell me you want me the way I want you.
Tell me it’s you I’m meant to be with.
“You’ll find someone worthy of you eventually.”
Your heart sunk, having built up your own expectations based on how his eyes had roamed your face as if he truly desired you. Maybe this was all in your head.
It wasn’t.
But Kento, much like you, didn’t want to lose you over anything. Confessing risked the relationship he already had with you. He would rather have you as a friend, than not have you in his life at all.
Not long after that, you both joined Jujutsu tech. Slowly but surely, you slipped away from your childhood group — him more than you. You tried your very best to stay in touch, though your new schedule made that hard.
With these new threats looming around you, neither of you could help how your friendship — or whatever you would call what was going on between you — continued to grow deeper. More serious. It went unsaid by the both of you, but there was just a mutual understanding that it was the logical development when there was the slightest possibility of it ending all too soon.
Still neither of you confessed.
You fell into routines, so accustomed to seeing him every minute of every day, your first instinct when returning from a mission was to find him.
As expected, Kento heard the three soft knocks he knew all too well at this point, before you squeezed through his door. With a deep exhale, you fell back on his bed, while he sat in his desk chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m exhausted.”
“Did you just get back?” His muscles were a little tense, like they always where whenever you had to go on a mission without him, his eyes searching every inch of you to see if there were any visible injuries he had to worry about.
“Little over an hour ago. Had to escape Gojo talking my ear off about his own mission.”
Kento observed how the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a tired smile, your chest vibrating with a soft chuckle.
He was always happy to see you come back unharmed, but he hated the exhaustion that rested in your joints — and it filled him with an unexplainable urge to help you somehow.
He imagined guiding you to lay on your stomach, placing his legs on each side of you and slowly soothing your muscles, rubbing caring motions along the curves of your body to fill it with the relaxation you deserved — but he couldn’t. It would definitely cross a line, too intimate for just friends.
“Glad you’re back,” he said almost in a whisper.
“Me too.” He could barely hear you, the mission slowly catching up with your energy as well, sensing on your breathing that you weren’t too far from falling asleep.
The silence that surrounded you was comfortable. You had grown so accustomed to each other’s presence, any awkwardness had ceased to exist. Nevertheless, Kento didn’t quite know what to do with himself, just looking at you sprawled out on his bed, a scene he would like to see every night.
“Kento?” Your voice was so soft.
“Yes?”
“Can I stay here tonight?”
He heard the slight hesitation in your voice before you expressed your request. Raising up his neck and face was a burning heat, his breathing coming out shallow as he didn’t quite know what to say.
Being a cautious man, he thought of every possible outcome.
It was prohibited, so he should decline. But he would hate himself forever if he simply sent you away because of the school’s outdated rules — he also knew he would regret it until his heart stopped beating.
So having you stay here was the only reasonable outcome — but then what? He supposed he would end up sleeping on the floor, like the gentleman he was. He would at least never assume he could sleep next to you, and he would not be as vulgar to ask.
He cleared his throat before speaking. “Of course. I’ll just-“
“Kento,” you said his name again, just as soft as always.
“Yeah?”
“There’s room for both of us on the bed.”
He had to swallow the massive lump that felt as if it was suffocating him. It at least stopped any further words to come out of his mouth. He slowly raised from the chair, floorboards creaking as he stepped over.
With his eyes locked on you, seemingly so calm with your eyes closed, he positioned himself beside you so he was facing you.
Goosebumps prickled up his arm when he felt your breath fan against his face, and he wondered how you managed to keep it in such an even rhythm. Didn’t this closeness send lightning through your body like it did for him, temptation threatening the act of finally crossing the line?
There was a crease between your eyebrows that seemed unintentional, like the events of the day had just planted themselves on your face and even your calm breathing couldn’t ease it. Against his better judgment, Kento’s urges steered his thumb towards your face, not reflecting over his action before he had ran his skin across the crinkle to smoothen the tension.
Shit, he thought to himself, certain you would open your mouth to tell him off — instead he saw how there had been a slight strain to your shoulders that was now released.
While he let his eyes roam your face, taking in every breathtaking aspect of your beauty, he felt a small spark of fear fill him at how right it all felt — lying next to you, so close he could feel the warmth radiate from your skin, his soft touch being able to bring rest to your body, the mere idea that he could envelop you in his arms if he wanted to.
“I’m happy you’re here with me,” your voice startled him a little, as he had assumed you had already fallen into the oblivion of sleep. “I’d never be able to navigate this world without you.”
“That’s not true.” Your eyes opened to meet his, catching his breath immediately, so stunningly deep he always felt himself fall into them. “You’ve always been the one looking out for me.”
You chuckled a little at that, endless memories of the two of you throughout childhood. “I guess in one way. But you’ve always kept me afloat.”
“You give yourself too little credit.” He had to stop himself from letting his fingers graze your cheek in the most tender caress. “You would have done just fine on your own.”
A small smile of flattery dared dance on your lips. “But I don’t want to.” It felt like a confession, unspoken feelings hidden within those words, begging for him to be able to deduce the true meaning. “Thinking of a life where you’re not at my side scares me.”
“Let’s never find out what that life is like.”
Kento would later eat those words.
Haibara’s death hit Kento the hardest. Numerous evenings were spent in the eerie silence of his cold dorm. When he cried, you held him. When he was trying to distract himself by reading, you sat and watched him, keeping him company. When he went the entire night without sparing you the slightest gaze, you knew you had overstayed your welcome, leaving him to be alone for a night.
“I don’t think I will continue to be a sorcerer.”
That was the first thing he said that hadn’t been a complete necessity, and it sent a spike of ice down your spine, not daring to understand his statement right away.
“Oh,” was the only thing you could think of to respond that did not entertain his idea.
His eyes met yours, the eye contact more intense than it had been for days, realising just how much you had missed having his kind eyes directed at you. Seemed like he felt it too, as the smallest gasp slipped out of him.
“I mean it.”
The tears instantly burned in your eyes, blinking them away before they had the chance to come running. “That's what scares me,” your voice betrayed you as the usual confidence came out cracked.
He didn’t push it any further, reading you as an open book — you knew he was telling the truth, but refused to acknowledge it. It was like if you ignored his statement, it would somehow end differently.
Luckily, after that night, Kento started to somewhat fall back to his old self. His smile started to return, it was easier to hold a conversation with him, which you obviously appreciated — however, he had planted a fear in you that had taken your body hostage.
You abandoned any sense of boundaries entirely, hanging onto his arm at all times. It was only when you were physically aware of his frame you were able to cling onto a string of peace. Feeling his body glued at your side only served as a confirmation that he was still here, and as long as you held on he couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t leave.
And whenever you had to pry yourself off of him to tend to your responsibilities where he wasn’t assigned, you were constantly living in a state of anxiety. Foot tapping against the floor, picking at your skin, petrified you would end up returning to see his room stripped of any signs of life — that he would have finally done the thing he said he would do, and part with the Jujutsu world.
Every time you returned, the sweetest sensation of relief washed over you, tears welling up immediately when he always stood ready to greet you. “Hey you,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight until he could physically feel your body let go of the stress that had tainted every muscle, every joint, for the entire time you had been separated.
But graduation day came and time was up.
You had held onto hope he would eventually change his mind, that it was only the initial grief that had weighed heavy on his conscience. But you were now standing in his bare room, everything packed into cardboard boxes. Of course it had only been a childish dream to think he would stay — there was no changing his mind.
“I really am sorry.” He was so earnest, like always, making it hard to be mad at him even though you so desperately wanted to. He genuinely had so much compassion, his hands stroking your arms in an attempt to calm the bouncing of your shoulders that followed the frantic rhythm of your sobs.
“I just don’t understand why?” You continued to sob, sentence coming out in sad intervals as you heaved for air.
“This isn’t right. It’s not right of them to expect us to be okay with watching our partners lay down their lives like this.”
You wanted so badly to scream at him, bang your fists against his chest before clasping onto his shirt so he wouldn’t even have the opportunity to leave. You knew it was unwarranted for you to feel that way, but the fact that he was following through with his stunt felt like a betrayal.
“You said we weren’t going to find out what this would be like.”
His heart shattered. Looking into your doe eyes, tainted red with sorrow as the sentence laced with innocence sent him back to every fragile evening throughout your journey together he had spent comforting you. How many tears he had dried, happily so? But this time it was his doing — him who brought you to a state of despair so grave you couldn’t breathe, and he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to comfort you.
Waiting for his next words were torture, time at a standstill watching his mouth open and close while he constructed the sentence in his mind. Though useless, the glimmer of hope refused to die out, begging for his surrender — you’re right, I’ll stay.
“I’m sorry.”
Another one of your earth shattering sobs came flying past your lips, stabbing him right in the heart that had only ever beaten for you.
Comforting you would always be second nature to him, which had his hands cup your face and pulling it closer to rest his forehead against yours. He wished, begged, for his touch to bring you comfort one last time before he left. But your body continued to shake. “It’ll be okay,” he tried to reassure you, spoken in a faint whisper. Repeating it over and over, waiting for his small affirmations to take affect — they never did.
Ask me to come with you.
Those six words played like a broken record in your mind, knowing you would pack your bags and abandon this god forsaken life at the drop of a hat if he just asked you to.
Come with me.
The request laid restless at the tip of his tongue, fighting every voice in him that was screaming at him to be selfish. But he couldn’t with you, never with you.
Unlike him, you had a purpose in this world — you were able to see the good in what you did, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he ripped you away from it no matter how much he wanted to.
There seemed like there was no limit to your tears. Shuddering against his touch, he sensed your body didn’t have much energy left to stand. He ended up leading the two of you to his bed, stripped bare to just the mattress, duvet folded at the end. Without any words spoken, you laid down in his arms, burying your face in his chest while the sobs continued to tumble out uncontrollably.
His strong arms locked around you, holding you as close to him as humanly possible, letting the illusion of him never disappearing from you live on for another night.
Eventually your sobs calmed down, only happening sporadically. The shaking stopped and he felt your breathing even out, telling him you had finally been able to let sleep consume you.
He couldn’t stop himself — placing a chaste kiss at the crown of your head, mumbling quiet and secret apologies before sleep caught him too.
According to Gojo, his departure had been quick. He hadn’t said much, just given them all a nod before grabbing his bags and disappearing.
You had decided against seeing him off. The two of you had said your goodbyes the night before in the solemn of his empty dorm. It had been wet, heartbreaking and nothing short of painful, but at least it had been private between the two of you. No one knew how your tears had soaked his shirt, or how your fists had created crinkles in the fabric while desperately holding onto him. No one knew how you had cried until the exhaustion knocked you out in his arms, so scared to wake up to face the new reality where Kento wasn’t at your immediate side like he had been since you were kids.
You couldn’t really remember what it was like to not have him there. Even before you had grown close, he had always lingered, the one thing in your life that had stayed consistent throughout it all was him.
The next weeks were absolutely torture, having to feed the people surrounding you endless lies of “I’m fine, really.” You were really just trying to prevent yourself from letting the reality set in properly. If that can of worms were to open again, you had no clue when or how you would be able to stop it. Last time you had still been able to seek some comfort against his warmth, only able to stop it because you practically passed out.
Not a single moment passed where he didn’t cross your mind, small things reminding you of him. All your little routines — for days you forgot to grab lunch because you were so used to him bringing it to you. For days you ended up with one towel too many, because you always brought an extra for him after training. Mundane things you had always taken for granted, gone in an instant.
Despite feeling a little betrayed, you couldn’t really blame him either. So you reached deep within yourself to try and stay positive. It wasn’t like he was gone gone, he had just retreated to a normal life.
You stayed in touch, sending regular updates about how you were getting by in the world of curses without him — lying of course. When he had left, he had taken some of the purpose you had in it all with him. But you didn’t want him to worry. You told him how you eventually started teaching at Jujutsu High alongside Gojo, and it felt nice to be responsible for the next generation of sorcerers.
And at first you received regular updates in return. He got himself a quaint little apartment that fitted his needs perfectly. You even got a few blurry photos of how he had tried to decorate it so it would feel more homely — you had cried when you received those.
You never called each other though. It seemed like there was a mutual understanding that it would be too unbearable to hear the voice of the other.
After a while, the updates slowly came to a halt. You kept on sending yours however, only for that little checkmark to appear and confirm he had read it. But no answer — you cried then too.
Had you said something or done something to make him cut the contact? You never managed to wrap your head around why he stopped showing you his new life.
Kento had never wanted to stop sending the messages — on the contrary. If anything, he had to stop himself from not telling you about every single minute of his day, even the most meaningless things, just as an excuse to talk to you.
But one day, thanks to a white haired little birdie, all consuming guilt had struck him. “She doesn’t say it, but she’s miserable.”
He held his breath, his fingers unintentionally clenching tighter around his phone. “She is?” His voice came out faint. He heard Gojo let out a deep sigh at the other end of the line.
“She tries. Very hard. I stopped asking a long time ago because she kept lying anyways.”
“Oh.” Kento had been a fool, believing your words when he had read them on his screen. When he hadn’t been able to hear the tone behind the statements, he had been able to convince himself they were genuine. But of course you were lying — he was, after all.
“But I think she really enjoys teaching,” Gojo said after a moment of sad silence, trying to fill the conversation with some optimism. “And the kids love her.”
“Yes, I can imagine as much,” a small smile appearing on his lips, picturing the scene of you with the young students.
“Look, I have to run, she’s waving me over. Should I-“
“No!” Kento rushed to cut him off. “No, don’t say anything. Please.”
He made up his mind then and there — he was not going to cause you any more pain. So he had to let you go entirely to allow you to move on. The way he was selfishly clinging onto the crumps you gave him seemed to do you no good, if the image Gojo painted was accurate.
So he stopped. Even though his fingers urged to reach out, he fought against it, for you.
You, however, could not hinder how your finger pressed the send button every now and then. The updates definitely became less frequent when he went radio silent, but you did not have the strength to stop. If you stopped… there was a fear he would never come back.
Kento was supposed to share his life with you.
He had believed so ever since he was a little kid, ogling you from afar before he even knew your name. The way you made his heart jump and pulse quicken had to be his body’s way of telling him you were meant to be with him, quickly growing addicted, dependent, on the reactions you created in him without trying.
But he had made the drastic choice of abandoning that feeling, convinced the alternative did you harm — and the mere concept of being the reason you even felt the faintest glimmer of discomfort was something he could not live with.
He welcomed the misery, a small price to pay for the belief that you were doing better now. He also thought he had good reason to believe that was the case.
The updates you sent him were few and far between these days, but it did paint a picture. You were rarely in the photos, but there was an energy present in the moments eternalised that seemed pleasant and positive. He imagined you had found your role, your place in life where you would get to fulfil your potential. And whether or not he was there was irrelevant.
He convinced himself his own insecurities were a reality to make it easier to bear.
Ever since childhood, you had been the headstrong one. The independent one. The brave one. It always lingered in the back of his mind whenever he just observed you in different scenarios — that it really didn’t matter if he was there or not, forever just an accessory to your life. He even feared he was holding you back somehow.
So it was only reasonable to think time away from him would have provided you with the playing field to develop into the best version of yourself… right?
Years went by and Kento’s pain didn’t ease. He missed you — every single day. And he kept living in that constant state of torture for you, until the fantasy shattered.
It was just another day, nothing out of the ordinary. Kento was going about his drowsy routines of stopping by the same bakery he did every morning before work. However today, he was nearly tackled by two kids, a boy and a girl about the age of six, once he entered the building.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” a grown woman rushed over to apologise as she brought the children back to their little table.
“It’s no problem,” he mumbled monotonously, eyes following them as they scattered back to their seats, where another woman sat.
A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, feeling like he had the privilege of looking back in time. The little boy resembled a young Kento Nanami, his blonde locks neatly styled, chubby, red cheeks and a baby-blue button up shirt — a rather mature attire for a six year old.
And the boy had his eyes glued on his friend, a girl the same age, very evidently the more outgoing out of the two. She was rambling enthusiastically, arms waving all over the place as he told her story down to the smallest detail, exhibiting the same spark you always had.
The boy kept a glare of pure awe as he followed her every word, seen so clearly in his eyes how much he admired her. And Kento knew how this story would continue — that night the boy would lay in his bed, the biggest smile on his face, unable to fall asleep as the day spent with his friend would play on repeat in his mind — much like Kento had spent countless nights when he was young.
It wasn’t until the girl behind the counter called for him he was able to pull his attention away from the all too familiar scene.
So polite, a sweet smile on her face as she served him the same thing he ordered every day. And then she asked how he was sleeping. It fascinated him, how this girl didn’t owe him anything, and had her own worries — like the little curse sat on her shoulder — and still showed concern for him.
He had noticed the curse before, but purposely never done anything about it. It wasn’t a proper threat, and it would be more of a hustle for him to deal with the reactions of ridding her of it than let it be. But now, having the innocent scene a few feet from him remind him of you, he quickly began to consider doing the girl a favour.
You would have exorcised it — without hesitation.
Not just that, you would probably give him crap for not exorcising it immediately. It wouldn't cost him anything to do it, so why wouldn’t he?
“Could you take a step forward, please?” Kento asked politely, the girl a little confused but doing as he said. He had your voice in the back of his mind while he easily exorcised the curse with one swift motion, the strain in her shoulder easing immediately.
“Huh? It’s lighter!” She exclaimed, rolling her arm around at the newfound relief.
“If anything still feels off, please go to the hospital,” he said with a small nod. He grabbed his food and headed for the exit, sparing one last glance at the table where the two kids sat, still deep in the conversation.
His lungs let out a deep, involuntary breath when the realisation dawned on him — he could no longer stay away, caving to his desires.
Maybe enough time had passed for it not to be considered selfish? If you had in fact found your place where you were content and comfortable, and meeting him again would be causal for you?
The questions kept circulating his mind as he pulled out his phone to dial the one person who would be able to set it all up at the blink of an eye.
His whole world stopped when he saw you, and he wondered how he had ever thought it a good idea to leave you — how could he possibly have survived all that time without you?
It was almost painful how his heart was clawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to be with you. It wasn’t until he felt the overwhelming pounding he realised his heart had not beat properly for the years he had spent away — meant to beat in unison with yours. His skin was turning cold as ice and the only way for it to regain its warmth was your touch, your soft embrace.
Kento hadn’t known what to expect when he saw you again, but he had certainly thought he would have more rational and coherent thoughts. Right now, it was all scrambling in his head and the only thing that appeared clearly in his mind was you, framed in the halo of your aura, taking his breath as way just as easily as when he was six.
With his body going numb, he observed you interact with Gojo and two kids he assumed were your students. You looked calm, a small smile decorating the plump line of your lips — it wasn’t as radiant as it used to be. In fact, your entire energy just seemed a little off. Maybe you had just gotten home from a mission, or it has been a hectic day in general.
Truth was not so mundane. You wished it was as simple as a long and tiring day. That would mean you could just jump in bed and sleep it off, ready to face a new day tomorrow.
But the day Kento left the jujutsu society behind, he unintentionally stole your spark with him.
You could never hate him for it though, he didn’t know. He only did what he felt like he needed to do, and you would be a terrible friend to stand in the way of that. But you had no control over how your mind decided to react.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder was something you had always heard growing up, and you had never really understood it — until faced with the situation yourself.
Not a day went by where you didn’t think of Kento. You thought of how his grin always grew slowly when watching you, eventually revealing the shy smile lines across his cheeks. The ghost of his touch, which was always dancing the line of appropriate or not, never leaving your mind. Sometimes you still felt the imprint of his arms around you.
“Don’t you guys listen to him for a second,” you chuckled, the tiniest hint of frustration in your voice. “Gojo doesn’t qualify as a responsible adult.”
His jaw fell to the ground in fake offence, eyebrows narrowing at the innocent laughs spilling from the students. “You were never this mean when we were younger,” he whined, folding his arms across his chest, looking like a stubborn child.
“That’s what you think,” you teased, nudging an elbow into his side. “You should have heard the things we said about you behind closed doors.”
His big hand came piercing through the air, pressing it against your face, gently shoving you away from the conversation. A lighthearted, but genuine, little laugh escaped you. “We don’t want to hear what you and your little boyfriend did in private,” Gojo rolled his eyes, pretending to gag at the made up memories.
Annoying as he was, Gojo had a way to actually make you forget the pain of it all for a few seconds. You would never tell him, obviously, that he managed to put the storm inside your head on hold for a second — he would rub it in your face every chance he got.
“Wait, senpai had a boyfriend when she attended here?” One of the students interjected and suddenly the mood of the conversation shifted. Gojo’s hand fell from your face before he shot you an apologetic smile.
For the most part, it was never a problem whenever Kento was brought up in the company of Gojo and Shoko. Everything was out in the open between the three of you, shared history taking away some of the pain. But whenever it slipped outside your little trio, it quickly became a sore topic.
Mouth opening and closing, trying to find the words to answer without having to give an explanation. Luckily, a painfully familiar voice called your name behind you, instantly sending a shiver down your spine.
All of you turned towards the voice, and you couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp at the beautiful image of your other half standing in front of you after all these years.
Your heart’s instinct steered your body, quickly stepping away from the group and latching your arms around Kento’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t hesitate to close his strong arms around your frame, fitting right into the slots they used to fill. His familiar scent filled your senses, memories flooding back in an instant.
“Huh, speak of the devil,” Gojo mumbled.
“Him? That was her boyfriend?”
Gojo quickly snapped out of it. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we,” and started rushing away the nosy teens.
Kento’s grip loosened and you pulled away, but neither of you dared let your hands leave each other. Your own hands ended up cupping his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on you until it hit you he was actually with you again — he let his rest on your waist, feeling the restlessness in him by how strongly his palms were pressing against you.
He was here. He was actually here.
There was a deafening silence filling the space of your office. You could feel it in the tension that both of you wanted to say something, but there was an unspoken pressure of saying the right thing.
So you let your eyes roam him, taking in the differences in his appearance.
He was gorgeous, same subtle handsomeness as he had always possessed, but a new confidence displaying it. Everything about him was more defined, sharp features drawing attention to his face, his muscles filling his shirt in a way they never did before.
“So, you and Gojo seem to work well together,” he swallowed, causing embarrassment to flush your face when he pulled you from your blatant admiring.
“We’ve found a rhythm that works for us, I suppose,” you shrugged.
He shifted awkwardly in his seat, arms flexing as he crossed them in front of him. “That’s good. I’m glad.” His tone of his short statements seemed to imply otherwise.
“He’s surprisingly good at his job,” you laughed, “the kids like him.”
“Who would have thought,” there was a pull of his lips, like he tried to smile but it didn’t succeed entirely.
“Not me, that’s for sure. I don’t know, he just meets them were their at.” You really wanted to stop rambling about Gojo. It was so clearly just a desperate way for you to replace the quiet that plagued you without touching the elephant in the room. “Don’t get me wrong, they find him insufferable, but I think they secretly really like him. Much like the rest of us.”
“Sounds about right.”
You squinted at him, slowly growing somewhat antsy. “You’re not jealous of Gojo, are you?”
Of course you still saw right through him. He, who usually managed to hide his true feelings, would never be able to conceal them from you. And he was jealous, petrified that he had made the biggest mistake of his life and Gojo had ended up taking the place that was supposed to be for him only.
“Is there something to be jealous of?”
“You tell me.”
The tension was thick, nearly suffocating, years of yearning and pining fuelling the energy. The reunion only served as a dangerous spark that threatened to set the fuse ablaze at any second.
Why couldn’t he take the first step? He was the one who had showed up all of a sudden, and he still hadn’t given you any explanation. He owed you that much, right? But he kept letting his restlessness control him, one leg bouncing quietly against the floor, hearing how the cogs in his mind were turning.
“Why are you here?”
Your words were soft, but Kento knew you well enough to know the true feelings that lingered in the question.
“I’m coming back.”
“You’re coming back?” You weren’t able to withhold the bite that was slowly making its way into your tone.
“Only if you’re comfortable with it.”
“Don’t do that,” your voice threatened to crack. “I don’t want that responsibility.”
He sighed deeply, unfolding his arms to rest his elbows on his spread knees. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.”
Always so polite. Always acknowledging his faults before they had the opportunity to grow. Always so damn righteous.
“What I meant to say is it looks like you’ve really managed to establish yourself here, and I wouldn’t want to come in and cause any discomfort by intruding what is essentially your space.”
The sound that escaped you next was a mixture between a flat laugh and a scoff, not entirely appreciating the way he was behaving. “Have we been apart so long you can’t talk to me like I’m your best friend?”
That had him look up at you, meeting your eyes instantly. You were sad, visible on your entire demeanour — maybe not to the average person looking, but he saw, still able to read you like an open book.
“Hope not,” he tried to smile, lips formed into a tight line that exposed how nervous he really was. His attention shifted to look at his fists folded together, words resting on his tongue, he just wanted to be sure it came out right. “I’ve missed you.” Silence. “There hasn’t been a day where you haven’t crossed my mind.”
“Sounds familiar.” There was no hiding the flush crawling up his neck and colouring the tips of his ears red at the sound of your confession.
“It was the thought of you that finally convinced me.”
“Why now?”
“Because enough time should have passed for you to thrive without me.”
“If that’s the case, you’ll have to keep waiting.”
You had him gagged, no clue how to respond. For some reason, he had refused to believe you were still hung up on him the way he was. There weren’t any reason for you to hold onto the idea of him — yet you had, for dear life.
Abruptly you stood up from your chair, hands running through your hair in frustration, trying to make sense of his sudden visit.
You stopped in your pacing, back faced him and hands on your hips — then he saw your shoulders begin to shake, followed by stifled sobs. These were the situations he always used to know what to do, moving on autopilot to bring you the comfort you needed.
Did his hands remember how to soothe you? Did his voice still know how to form the right words to say? Did his presence still know how to envelope you until you felt happy again? There was only one way to find out.
Quickly stepping over to you, his hands hovered over your shoulders for a second in fear. He swallowed his selfishness and let them land to settle the bouncing, leaning his head forward to rest it against the back of yours, the smell of your shampoo surrounding him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and it only seemed like his apology opened the valve, no longer able to choke your sobs. Your hands left your hips to cover your face, muffling the sadness tumbling out in one stream.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continued to mutter, head moving to press it to the side of your face. One hand traveled across your collarbone, the other around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, determined to hold you there until he was absolutely certain you were okay.
He would stand there the whole night if he needed to.
Slowly but surely, your sobs came to a stop, your trembling eventually easing against his body. But he didn’t loosen his grip, not until he felt you shift in his arms to face him.
Cry painted cheeks, delicate red rim around your eyes, glossy irises that stared right into the deepest parts of him that only you had access to.
Everything started to fall back into place, his big hand cupping your cheek as he stroked your hair out of your face. He let his eyes dart delicately across your face, taking in every single detail.
Then he let his longing get the best of him, thumb graciously tracing your bottom lip turned swollen from when you tried to swallow your sobs.
There was slight hesitation while he leaned forward, never having experienced time moving as slow as you waited for his lips to connect with yours. First, he let his nose brush against yours, testing the waters.
Please.
You felt his breath.
Don’t make me wait any longer.
Sparks.
Soft lips pressed against yours, moving tenderly in unison that sent intense sparks through your body from head to toe. The moment easily surpassed any of the fantasies you’d had of kissing him.
Needy fingers traveled up his broad chest before hooking your arms around his neck, pulling him closer — it still didn’t feel close enough.
Kento poured everything he had always wanted to say into the kiss — and he knew you understood. If he had learned anything from everything you had been through together, it was he could always trust you were able to understand him completely, even without anything being said.
When you pulled away you found yourself breathless. Meeting his eyes again, unexpected shyness you weren’t used to experience with Kento had you hide your face in his chest.
The roles had reversed, his warm chuckle serving as a comforting blanket. Oh, how you had missed that melody.
“Took you long enough,” you mumbled, hoping the teasing would have your normal confidence return.
His finger found your chin to tilt your head up, capturing your gaze. “Yeah, I should have done it ages ago.”
The previous sadness still lingered, and it was evident you still had a lot to talk about. But right now it was nice to just wallow in his presence again. It was way overdue, feeling like it should have been like this since forever.
“I really am sorry.”
“I think I can find it in myself to forgive you.” Your innocent jab was received with a dashing smile, tingles spreading throughout your limbs at the sight.
“Hope so, sweetheart,” he breathed quietly before he leaned in again.
They sat staring at each other, Kento with a raised eyebrow while a grumpy Gojo was positioned on the couch opposite him, legs and arms crossed in annoyance.
“You used to be nice.”
Kento scoffed at his colleague’s childish behaviour. “I still am, you’re just upset you’re not getting it your way.”
“But why?” Gojo cried dramatically.
“Why? What do you mean why? Because it’s not your wedding.”
“Were you always this boring?”
“Most definitely.”
“Will you guys please shut up?” You interrupted, unable to ignore them anymore. You had desperately tried to block them out as you were doing some paperwork you should have done ages ago.
“He started it!” Gojo pointed at Kento, which only had him roll his eyes.
“You know what,” you sighed as you gathered your stuff and raised from behind the desk. “It’s with a heavy heart I leave you, but I need to get this done by the end of the day.” You stopped behind Kento, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Sorry, honey,” he said genuinely as he gazed up at you lovingly.
“I am not asking for much-“ Gojo continued to argue before you interrupted him.
“Will you pay for it?”
“Is that all it’ll take?” He beamed, and you nodded. “Of course! Done! How much do you need?”
“You’re too lenient when it comes to him,” Kento sighed.
“It’s not the craziest thing he could request. He’ll get his endless supply of sweets, and you won’t have to listen to his obnoxious nagging anymore.”
“I’m sitting right here.” Both you and Kento ignored him.
“I really have to get this work done though,” you sighed, hand squeezing his shoulder.
“See you at home?” His loving smile had you lean down to press your lips tenderly against his.
“See you at home.”
“I’ll have dinner ready.”
“God, I love you.”
Then he flashed you that smile — the smile which was reserved solely as a response whenever you said those three words he used to dream of hearing from you.
It was funny really, how after everything things would turn out exactly how he as always wanted them to. Despite the hopelessness he had felt and all the pain you had endured — both together and apart — would eventually lead up to the happy ending he had dreamed of since the young age of five.
He knew he would do it all over again, in every universe, if it ensured this outcome.
“I love you too.”
tags @sad-darksoul @toadtoru
an anon, i am so sorry if this ended up longer than you wanted it. idk what happened, bc it just kept on snowballing <3 however, i am very touched you wanted me to do this request. warms my heart. hope it turned out okay mwah also, if you've read my satoru childhood friends to lovers fic and see any similarities, no you don't comments and reblogs is much appreciated
©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited
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