When it became obvious, Kento didn't hesitate to take the chance.
| Nanami x Reader
Kento Nanami was a man of absolute routines, boundaries, and logic. Yet, for the past six months, you had become the sole exception to every single one of his carefully constructed rules.
You sat across from him in the quiet corner booth of a dimly lit bistro—a Friday night tradition that had started as a casual post-mission wind-down but had evolved into something much heavier. At least, it felt heavy to you.
"You're staring into your glass," Nanami observed, his low, smooth baritone cutting through the low hum of the restaurant. He adjusted his glasses, his sharp, dark eyes fixing entirely on you. "Is something wrong with the wine?"
"No, it's perfect," you said quickly, offering him a bright smile to mask the sudden flutter in your chest. "Just thinking about how much I look forward to these Fridays. It’s a good thing we’re such great friends, Nanami. Otherwise, I’d have to find someone else to tolerate my venting."
You delivered the line with a playful wink, your heart hammering against your ribs. It was another signal. Another tiny, desperate breadcrumb you threw out into the open, hoping he might catch it. You were terrified of ruining the perfect, safe camaraderie you shared, but the agony of falling in love with him all by yourself was becoming too much to bear. You kept testing the waters, dropping hints about romance, dating, and your mutual loneliness, waiting for him to either close the door or step through it.
But as usual, Nanami merely took a measured sip of his drink, his expression an unreadable mask of stoic calm.
Of course, you thought bitterly, looking down at your hands. He just sees me as a colleague. A friend. I'm falling in love all alone.
What you didn’t know—what you couldn't possibly see behind Nanami’s professional composure—was the sheer exercise of willpower it took for him to sit across from you every week and not reach across the table.
Nanami was an expert observer. He noticed the slight tremor in your voice when you made those "jokes." He noticed the way your eyes lingered on his mouth, and how you subtly leaned into his space whenever he walked you back to your apartment. He knew exactly what those signals meant. He knew you were falling for him.
And more importantly, he knew he was completely, utterly undone by you.
Nanami did not believe in leaving things to chance. He hated inefficiency, and he despised regret. He had spent weeks analyzing the situation, weighing the risks of breaking the safe boundaries of your friendship. Unlike you, who feared the ruin of what you had, Nanami had already moved past that fear. He wanted to ruin the friendship. He didn't want a safe platonic bond anymore; he wanted all of you. He was just waiting for the right moment to let the truth float to the surface.
"A great friendship," Nanami repeated slowly, setting his glass down with a soft clink. His eyes locked onto yours, suddenly intense, stripping away the casual nature of the evening. "Is that truly what you think this is?"
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanor. "I—well, yeah. We’re friends. Aren't we?"
Nanami leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. The warmth of his presence felt suffocating in the best possible way. "We are. But I have never been a man who contents himself with half-measures, especially when it comes to things that matter."
"Nanami, what are you saying?" your voice was barely a whisper. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.
"I am saying that I see the signals you send, and I have no intention of letting you fall in love alone," he said, his voice entirely devoid of hesitation. It was a direct, unwavering declaration. "I am perfectly willing to ruin our friendship, if it means we can find out where this actually goes."
The world seemed to stop. The background noise of the bistro faded into nothingness. You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat as his words sunk in. He wasn't rejecting you. He hadn't been blind to your hints. He had been waiting.
"You... you want to ruin it?" you breathed.
A rare, incredibly soft smile tugged at the corner of Nanami’s lips. He reached across the table, his large, warm hand covering yours, firmly anchoring you to him. His thumb stroked the back of your knuckles, a possessive, grounding touch.
"Yes," Nanami murmured, his gaze softening with a profound, quiet devotion. "Let’s let it float. Let's see exactly where we land."
The cool evening air hit you two the moment you stepped out of the bistro. The city noise was a distant murmur, muffled by the late hour.
Usually, this was the part of the night where Nanami would walk exactly half a step behind you, keeping a respectful, professional distance until he saw you safely to your door. But tonight, the rules were gone.
Before you could even take two steps down the pavement, Nanami’s hand found yours again. This time, his large fingers slid between yours, locking your palms together securely. He pulled you slightly closer to his side, his long coat brushing against your sleeve.
"Are you cold?" he asked, looking down at you. The sharp, intimidating edge he usually carried around the school was completely absent.
"A little," you admitted, your face flushing red, though it had less to do with the temperature and everything to do with the solid, overwhelming warmth of his hand.
"But I'm mostly just... trying to process what actually happened."
"I am a practical man," Nanami said, his pace slow and deliberate, matching your stride perfectly. "If I see a situation that requires a resolution, I resolve it. We have spent six months dancing around an obvious truth. It was a poor use of our time." You let out a soft laugh, leaning your shoulder against his arm as you walked.
"You are the only person I know who can make a romantic confession sound like a business strategy, Kento."
Hearing his given name roll off your lips sent a distinct, heavy jolt straight through his chest. He stopped walking.
They were under the dim, amber glow of a streetlamp, just outside the gate of your apartment building. The light caught the sharp lines of his jaw and the deep, dark intensity of his eyes as he turned to face you fully. He didn't let go of your hand; instead, he used his grip to pull you an inch closer, closing the remaining distance between your bodies.
"It is not a business strategy," Nanami said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming rougher, more intimate. His free hand rose, his long fingers gently cupping the side of your jaw.
His thumb brushed over your lower lip. "A business strategy has a budget. It has an exit plan. I have neither of those things when it comes to you."
Your breath hitched. "Nanami..."
"Kento," he corrected softly.
He leaned down, giving you plenty of time to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't. You reached up, your fingers gripping the lapels of his suit jacket as you met him halfway.The kiss was everything Nanami had been holding back for the last six months. It wasn't the tentative, fragile kiss of a friend testing the waters. It was deep, possessive, and heavy with an unspoken promise. His hand at your jaw shifted, his fingers tangling into your hair to hold you steady against him, while his other arm wound around your waist, lifting you slightly off your feet to bring you flush against his chest.
He tasted like the dark wine from dinner and the cool winter air, but underneath it all was just him—solid, real, and entirely yours.
When he finally pulled back, he didn't go far.
His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your face. His chest was heaving slightly, the perfect composure he prided himself on completely shattered by the touch of your lips.
"The friendship," Nanami murmured, a faint, breathless trace of amusement in his voice, "is officially ruined."
You smiled up at him, your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder where it smelled of expensive cologne and safety.
"Good. I hated being friends anyway."
Nanami’s arms tightened around you, holding you against the cold, holding you against the dark world outside, completely content with exactly where they had landed.