sans fanfare

[pmpmyread]

About me minnie // she/her // thirties fanfic writer // fanwork enjoyer // fandom dweller

Find my fanfic masterlists below:

Jujutsu Kaisen masterlist here. -> Nanami Kento also gets his own lists lol here and here. Destiny 2 masterlist here. Demon Slayer masterlist here.

I'm also pmpmyread on ao3, find me here. I occasionally make image/gif sets from media I enjoy, find them: -> here for JJK (Phantom Parade) -> here for Destiny 2

Updated: June 20 2026

[moninils]

And all of this at once.

[eiramew]

hey. HEY

i know it's an easy cinematic shot. i know the traveler is a ball. i just think it's interesting!

[eiramew]

food for thought

[digitalroot]

Gintama: 48. The More You’re Alike, The More You Fight  

[kentocalls]

nanami kento || day 4 prompt: traditional outfit 2.6k, You save Nanami from wearing a sherwani unprotected.

He tugs the collar a third time. Your eyes find hazel in the mirror as he diligently sticks to twisting your hair round back, a bobby-pin at the ready to hold in place; one of many twists needed to add the decorative juda pin to. His hands are firm and much kinder than your own tend to be. "Is it tight, Kento?"

"I think it'll hold, no hairspray right?" You aim to shake your head as he clicks his tongue, keeps his pinky pressed against the recently pinned hair, the rest of his hands at the sides of your head to tilt it back in place, Nanami refuses to have an off-center pin placed into your hair. He does that thing again though, head tilts up to the side, your eyes drop to the collar of the sherwani, he's buttoned to the very top. It must be stiff, even if you told the tailor to provide enough margin because Nanami Kento is disciplined. Which means he works out, which means his measurements provided a month ago would shift up slightly. But not this much, right? You raise a hand, he stops twisting the next strand of hair, "Pause, please." Turning, your bangles, payal, and lehenga chiming. Raising your hands to undo the top most button and aht! Your eyes narrow. "Hmmm…agar isko…aisey…"* Your fingers sink down and in, another button falls victim to your curiosity as he inhales sharp, "Darling, we don't have time for this." A smirk to your lips as a song dances in your head, "And what is the this, Kento? What are you imaging, huh?" You are trying to solve his problem here, you're being productive. You are not indulging in your most favorite task of undressing Nanami Kento, please! You know better than right before an event, especially in a heavy mirror-work lehenga, "Where's your undershirt?" "My what?" "The tank top, or one of the cotton shirts you wear around the house?" Eyes finding his, gosh he really thinks there's some magic hidden in your iris, and your hands. Whatever you've done to add the shimmer and shine to your eyes, the crisp edge of the winged eyeliner—always waterproof—otherwise you're a raccoon for days, the soft smile radiates on his lips. Keeps his hand firm on your hips, least he do something stupid and let his thumb push over your carefully painted lips. He's not an animal, not yet, that's for after hours. Where all he's helped doll and dress up is also his to reset; back to his darling who wears soft clothes and rubs her eyes freely. There's that thing you use that he doesn't like, mascara was it? Makes your eyelashes long and fan out, framing the window of your soul with entice, but he's aware it gives you a major headache. Plus it's impossible to get off with that oil thing you use, what was it? Cleansing balm that turns into oil in the heat of his palms? But it's the least abrasive thing on your skin; Nanami Kento has long stopped trusting you to be gentle when it comes to makeup removal. Yes it takes longer if you triple cleanse your face and no, that's not a good reason to not wash it. Whatever, he'll help your skin breathe free from all these layers soon enough.

You're looking at him, soft smile, lips yet to be kissed by your favorite rosewood lacquer, "Kento, if you don't wear an undershirt it'll get real itchy." "Thought you said I'd get too hot, it's on a rooftop right?" "Yeah, but still, would you rather sweat and itch without protection?" He wiggles an eyebrow up, your hand finds his mouth, shushing him, "No. Don't go there." "You walked right into that." He kisses the top of your head as you turn back around and assess. "Hmm, red?" You note the rani and gulab around the sleeves, maybe using that as accent for your lips and blush would be good. When your eyes meet his you can tell he's stuck on your comment about unprotected sweating, it's an embarrassed "Shh! Forget I said it. Shoo! Go! I'll finish up." And maybe just maybe, you aren't able to forget your comment because he, very purposefully, sits on the bed, unbuttons the sherwani. It's late enough in the day that the efforts of his weekly discipline, and your cooking, are evident on his form. He's firm and squeezable in all the right places. Shouldn't take a man like that, with biceps like that, to take an eon to don an undershirt. The sherwani is met with a sigh, it's stiff and not as forgiving as the soft cotton on his skin, over his head, careful not to touch his carefully styled hair and the vibrant orange fabric is back on him.

When he catches your eyes, his deft and speedy fingers slow down exponentially, buttoning up one golden circle at a time, smirking to himself, because he knows that look, "We've got ten minutes, darling." You pull away and finish applying your lipstain, "I'm already done. Unlike someone else."

As if he didn't help you into the top, as if he didn't fight with two of the world's smallest invisible zippers known to man to get your blouse and lehenga closed. As if he didn't watch reel after reel to learn how to pleat the chunni in the style you wanted. As if he isn't aware of how many safety pins are hidden within your choli. As if he isn't back, finishing off twirling your hair and applying the juda pin. "Mmmm what should I smell like? Mother's Day Auntie Chanel or Forgotten Mother's Day Burberry Discount?" You hold up perfumes saved for these events. It's easier if you smell like the rest of the crowd, it results in less of a painful headache from all the conflicting perfumes in the venue. "How about, this?" Mohave Ghost. His scent, least it has been the last three years. "Smelling like my husband? Scandalous." But you spritz it all over, then remembering how Rihanna spritz her perfume and shower yourself with the comforting scent and Nanami who turns around so you can get his back. Resisting temptation to mess up his freshly styled hair, you nod as his hand rests at the nape of your neck, thumb pressing into clavicle bone, anchoring himself for a moment. He's not one for big functions or events like this; neither are you, but it comes with the territory of maintaining family relationships and seeking moments of celebration and joy. What was it you had said? Creating whimsy in things you simply have to do as an adult, "We don't have to go do we?" He had asked, "And what, face the wrath of my mother who ordered our outfits months ago? Nanami Kento, we, know better." A click of your tongue had stunned him into silence, "This is how you'll get old Kento, all work and no play, Family drama is the spice of life! Or at least nonsense background music we can dance to. Do you want to lead a dance-less life? Won't be me, nu uh, puh-lease." He pulled you into his lap then didn't he? Made sure to stun you right back. 🪩

It's three am and he wished he remembered the last hour because he's on the sofa of your shared space, the lights are all off. How did he get here? Goodness golly, did he make you drive? In your lehenga with the cancan underskirt? How did you even fit in the driver seat?

But there you are, on the phone, warm amber signaling your movements around him, soft voice informing your mother you've arrived home safely. Pretty ghulaby and rani embellished blouse with soft black workout shorts, how'd you get one of those sneaky zippers open on your own? Kento reaches an arm up, outward in your direction, your head turns as your feet automatically start to walk over, still listening to your mother who is irate. How dare Seema Aunty even suggest Nanami Kento is anything but perfect? It makes your heart sing, as your hand can finally mess up that too perfectly styled pushed-back hair of his. "Why would Kento-beta do pairi-pauna to her? Her own son doesn't even fold his hands for namaste! Besides, what's she trying to show off? Knock-off sandals!" It makes you laugh as Kento's arm snakes around your torso, pulling his head into the softness of your belly, "I'm sure she didn't have anything else to nitpick, Ma, are you home now?" "Ten minutes out." In the background you hear your father correct her, "8 minutes." It's a bit of light chatter before the tell-tale sign of the garage door opening and closing occurs, "Okay I need to turn the house-alarm off, goodnight darling. I'll call tomorrow." "Not too early. Let me call you, sweet dreams." Nanami pulls you even closer the moment the phone lays on the coffee table. Your hair is half undone, some of it free and wild, still soft long curls, nothing like your usual hair texture, his hands itch to correct this. "Sleepy man, don't you wanna get out of this itchy thing?" He let's all willpower leave his arms, they fall lifeless, as you smooth over his forehead and cheek, "Oi, Kento Kento, Suno*, Mr. Nanami Kento, I'm speaking to you." "Too tired." "Then the bed, na? Chalo." "Too far, you'll have to leave me here." "Arre? Here? On this cold cold leather couch in this cold and dark room?" There's a mirth to your voice that moves closer and closer, lips to his chin as his hands find life, up the back of your neck, into your hair, all those juda and bobby-pins poke at his finger tips but it's worth it, it's worth finally getting his own lips stained ghulaby red. He expects to taste the jalebi, needlessly sweet that dessert, but from your lips the perfect potion of everything mint and joyous spills into his. Chases after the kiss as you move back, "Nu uh, I wanna wash my face and sleep on a real bed, my feet hurt Kento." There is, very little leeway in being stern with him, especially when he makes that muffled gruff sound, claims your lips as his own. Isn't it easy to get lost in this? The faded cedarwood and magnolia that clings to you both, the way starved off impatience returns with appetite—"Nain, Uth jao! Chalo!"* Reason enough for him to move quickly, with staggering accuracy, hoisting you over his shoulder, not stopping until he's carefully settling you on that bathroom counter top, hands bracket your very alarmed and slightly turned on form, "Is this what happens when you stay up past your bed-time?" Nuzzling into his neck, "Wait." He's trying to get that silly zipper on your blouse loose, it's stuck though.

He's welcome to try. You sit pretty and patient, arms on his shoulders so he can wiggle and tug fabric and a too small zipper that feels like it shrinks under his judgment, "I could cut you out of this?" "No, sleepy, I wanna wear this for the dandiya raas we got invited to, remember?" The circle dancing with sticks thing, he sorta remembers, too sleepy to understand more than a few things at once. One - you look gorgeous still, two - he needs to get you out of this blouse carefully, and maybe three - more kisses, stat. "Hey—I'll handle this, you take yours off and let's get to bed?" Ever the planner and sense-maker, he nods along. In some miraculous coordination, his heavy biceps and lead like forearms move up, unbutton, tug and shrug off the sherwani jacket. The doti is easy to slip off and damn, you were right about the undershirt.

It's autopilot after that, a quick body-rinse shower because he did sweat and was itchy, and then he finds you rubbing your face as if it's a washboard. "Aht aht—" firmly stopping your hands from going to scratch at your eyes, he gets a pouty whine, "Mascara! I hate it!" He shouldn't smile but you can't see him so he does, "Gently, darling, you like your eyelashes." A sigh, "I do." Nanami keeps his hand in your hair, as you wash your face, even though it's not necessary, hands you the towel to pat your skin dry and softly softly, brushes a finger across your lips, "There you are." "Here I am." At the tip of his lips, the word you reserve for him when he's being the utmost stubborn, jaan*, he's not stingy with the ways he addresses you, however, it feels too precious, too tempting of fate. And he hasn't had enough days or nights to gloat.

"Chalo*." He calls softly, leading you from the shared bathroom towards the softness of cool sheets lidded with promise of warmth and company. "Ah, the carafe." You're up on your elbows, ready to bounce back to the kitchen and refill the pitcher, but a kiss to the top of your head has you momentary confused. Isn't he sleepy? "Kento, I can—" He's already disappeared. Something warm expands across your heart. It's a small thing, something to aide you back to sleep, Nanami Kento doesn't even drink water this late at night. "I got it." Hmm. Hiding a smile into your pillow, considering how very sweet your husband is being. Even if this is his usual demeanor, it still makes your heart beat faster.

Warm arms embrace you from behind, lazily you turn into him. Nanami waits for it, surely you aren't too sleepy to notice his lack of undershirt this close? And when you do pull back, there's a twinkle in his eyes, "What?" "What…what. Goodnight Kento." But he doesn't let you shuffle back into him, no, you see, he was a pure and proper gentleman all night! "Darling, you aren't going to ask?" "There's—there's nothing to ask, go to bed." "Oh? You'd let me go to bed…without protection?"

"Nanami Kento!" But he's already kissing away at your protest, of it being so late and so not cool of him to use your innocent words against you. You were looking out for him, "If you had worn it raw then you'd—" "Raw." He laughs, you try to stay serious you do. You're sleepy, you're not careful with words with you're sleepy. "Stop! Unhand me—"

"Jaan." Oh oh oh, the way he says it, the way he keeps saying it into your skin, down your neck and across your chest, hands tracing up your sides.

There's a plethora of reasons why not to, the sore hands and feet, the fact it's closer to sunrise than sunset, there's some morning run or class to attend to but you only need one reason to keep going. And it's evident, his lips on your skin.

_______

Apologies if I romanized anything incorrectly, this is how I've learned to spell them. If there's anything I haven't translated or would benefit from being explained, please let me know! Thank you for reading.

juda pin = a bun pin essentially, it's a hair accessory chunni = is a long scarf or dupatta that is a part of outfits lehenga = traditional ankle-length skirt, lehenga's are worn with a chunni & fitted blouse (choli) choli = top of the lehenga rani= it's like a rich jewel toned hot/red pink color ghulabi =it's like a rosey-red color jalebi = is a deep-fried circular shaped treat soaked in sugar syrup agar isko…aisey…" = "if (I move) that, like(this)" Suno* = Listen "Nain, Uth jao! Chalo!"* = "No, get up. Come on" Jaan = nickname, means life or soul Chalo = let's go/come on

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[the-dragon-hearted]

I raise you:

[pmpmyread]

lol @rahuratna 🤭

[larared]

spoiler for bleach fanzine <_<

[rahuratna]

Enter the Ho-Tang

Synopsis: Based on the Kn8 Relax chapter that gave us Rapper Hoshina. In which Hoshina embraces his career as a rap artist with some ulterior motives ...

Contents: Extreme crack, humour, my questionable lyrics.

(I apologise in advance for this)

WC: 2053

Dividers by: @diviniyae

"Hoshina, a moment."

It was a cool, clear day at Tachikawa Base, and Soshiro pivoted on his heel at the sound of Ashiro's voice.

He saluted, chipper as ever.

"Oh, here to oversee the trainin', Captain?"

"No. There's another matter."

Her presence, exalted as ever, served to garner some attention from the recruits who were arrayed out for today's field exercise.

Hoshina cocked his head.

It wasn't evident to most, but Ashiro seemed ill at ease about something.

He could take a fairly accurate guess as to what the root of this was.

Keeping his expression carefully neutral, he nodded.

"I'm all ears."

Her gaze dropped briefly to his collar, then returned to his face.

"I heard a rumour. About your ... activities off-base yesterday."

"Ahh. You did?"

His smile was fixed in place, giving nothing away.

"Yes. Did you really go to a tattoo parlour?"

"Why is this of such concern to you, Captain?"

She took a step closer, eyes panning out over the recruits before she lowered her voice to an exasperated mutter.

"Can I assume this is to do with the request letter we received yesterday? The one from the pediatric section of the hospital?"

"I still don't see why - "

"Hoshina, I asked you to fulfill the request as my representative."

"That you did."

"I didn't ask you to get tattoos."

"The request was pretty clear, Captain. It wanted us to visit the children at the hospital, you dressed as a gyaru, and me as a rapper. I'm only doing my best to comply to the specifics of the - "

"You can get temp tattoos!"

"That wouldn't fall in with the ethics of the JAKDF, and the promise we make to serve the public."

"Tattoos are frowned upon in the defence force."

"Didn't stop some first division squad members from gettin' 'em. Or dyin' their hair. Or piercing themselves - "

Ashiro shook her head briskly.

"Look, Hoshina, all I'm saying is ... I'm sorry for throwing you under the bus. You don't have to get a tattoo."

"Oh, so is Captain goin' to join me? As a gyaru?"

She bit her lip, eyeing him sideways.

"I'll take as a 'no'."

"Hoshina - "

"Anyway," he countered breezily, "it's too late."

"What do you mean too late?"

Mina's louder tone of shock rang out, and some of the recruits looked their way.

They hurriedly turned away at her glare, shooting furtive glances back to where their respected leaders stood, Ashiro with tense shoulders and a storm brewing on her brow, and Hoshina with the smug smile of a cat that had gotten into the cream.

"Why, Captain, I've already got my tats done. And don't worry, the uniform covers them pretty strategically."

"Where? Where are the tattoos, Hoshina? Someone said that you'd got them on your neck. Is that true? You didn't want tattoos. You've never wanted them."

"Well, yesterday, I had a little epiphany. Decided to get 'em, just like requested."

"An epiphany?"

He tilted his head towards her, still watching the officers.

"Well, y'see, a certain Captain of the Sixth Division was in the neighborhood. Dropped by, as he seems to. And while I never met him - "

"You avoid him like the plague."

" - while I never met him, I overheard a little somethin' as he passed by in the corridor. He said, if I knew what was good for me, I'd let him take care of business, and come home safe, to take up the teaching position at our clan dojo. That way I wouldn't have to put up with dumb requests, like this one."

"Ah. I see."

"And Captain, I took exception to that. Dumb as the request may be, it's part of being a Vice-Captain."

"But Hoshina, getting tattoos just to spite your brother - "

"And I'm takin' it a step further. If I've got the tats, why not the whole deal, huh? Make a few videos, show 'em my lyrical skills, make it clear that I see a future career as a rap artist."

Ashiro was staring at him with wide eyes.

"Your family will be horrified."

"That they will. My brother, more specifically."

She paused, taking in his neat, feline smile, the way his fist flexed subtly, as it did before a fight.

"Oh. Oh."

Straightening, Ashiro cleared her throat.

"Well then, Hoshina, as your superior officer, I can only say that you have my complete support in this endeavour. I'll go so far as to endorse and promote your music, to show just how talented the Defence Force truly is."

The grin her Vice-Captain now wore would rival the most dastardly Cheshire Cat.

"Why, thank you kindly, Captain. Much appreciated."

The news spread like wildfire, across base, through the Defence Force, to the public at large.

Vice-Captain Hoshina, always popular among the public polls, had decided to embrace his musical side. As a rap artist, no less.

Among the younger generations, the outburst of support was enormous.

He was soon trending on most social media platforms, small snippets of interviews with him circulating, among much squealing about how 'adorable' and 'cheeky' he was.

Of course, none of this fanfare was complete without proof of his ability. As with all things he did, Hoshina had already been hard at work with his producers and assistants, coming up with some sample tracks to release to the public, as a promo for an upcoming single.

While there was uproar at other military bases, the higher ups, and Tachikawa Base specifically, seemed oddly relaxed about the whole situation, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

It seemed that everyone on base had been informed of Hoshina's grand scheme, and were playing their parts to perfection.

One afternoon, Kafka came bursting through the door of the gym adjoining the barracks, waving his phone.

"Hey, guys, Vice-Cap's new single is out!"

Reno, Iharu and Akari gathered eagerly around, while Kikoru stalked over from the rowing machine.

"Ugh, is he for real?"

Kafka shushed her, much to her displeasure.

The video on screen showed a simple, featureless room, white walls and a metal table the only furnishings present. A hooded figure was seated, slightly slumped in a chair, hands hanging at their sides.

"Is that him?"

"I can't tell!"

"Ooh, did he get his fingers tattooed? Is that why he's been wearing gloves around base?"

"That's hardcore, man!"

A beat struck up, simple, but an immediate hook, light, but dangerously quick in tempo.

The hooded figure raised their head and Kikoru's eyes bulged.

"He has neck tattoos? And chains?"

Indeed, it was their beloved Vice-Captain, but not in the sense they were accustomed to.

There was a certain edge to his movements as he picked up the chair and slammed it down closer to the camera.

The hood fell back, and there was Rapper Hoshina in all his glory, his bangs styled to one side, slightly disshevelled, eyes open to reveal their dismissive violet depths.

His words echoed from the speaker, delivered with emphatic drops, the Kansai-ben rendering his flow all the more pronounced.

"On thin ice,

With two blades

Watch how this kaiju fades,

Chew you up

Spit you out,

Not the Captain,

But the Vice."

Iharu was giggling already.

"Damn, he's got bars."

"Swords are for yesterday?

Sit back,

Watch me open the way,

With your gun

You can't touch me,

Missed that memo from the Muromachi"

Kafka and Akari were now bobbing their heads along to the beat, while Kikoru's eyebrows had almost disappeared into her hairline.

"He's ... got a lot of resentment, huh?"

"Oh, damn, are you hearing this?"

"But bro,

Was it worth it?

Did it make you feel proud?

Crack the bokken on my knuckles

And leave me on the ground?"

"Is he ... talking about Captain Hoshina?"

At Himeji Base, Vice-Captain Nagakura eyed his superior with growing concern.

Captain Soichiro Hoshina was crouched over his personal device in his office, the phone held in a white-knuckled grip.

"Has he lost his mind? Kyuji, what is this?"

"That's Vice-Captain Hoshina. Your brother."

"This is not the time for your sarcasm."

"I can think of no better time, sir."

"What has he done to himself? Kyuji, he's got tattoos on his neck."

"There are also tattoos on his knuckles."

"Huh?"

"Right there. See."

Soichiro let out a wail rather unbecoming of a Captain of the Defence Force.

"What'm I supposed to do? The clan elders'll have my guts for breakfast. They'll say I failed my baby bro."

"Well, you did crack the bokken on his knuckles and leave him on the ground."

"That was all part of the goddamn trainin'!"

"Tell that to your brother, sir."

"Father made me do it!"

"Take some responsibility!"

"I only tied his belt to a pillar one time."

"You did what?"

"It was winter, but he was a tough kid, okay?"

"How does every story about your childhood get worse and worse?"

"Look, I said I was - "

"Turned around,

Never looked back,

Now you wanna talk,

Now you wanna backtrack,

I got one Captain,

Don't need another,

She's locked and loaded

Step back, brother."

"Is he saying he ... prefers Ashiro to me?"

"That seems to be the implication, sir."

"There's no way! No way!"

At Ariake, Narumi had tuned in to the release of the single with a nonchalance that fooled nobody.

Over the past few weeks he'd grown increasingly aggravated by the attention that Hoshina was gathering online, to the point that the massive kaiju he'd taken out in the bay had lost traction due to the hype around his 'rival'.

All right, Narumi was seething, but he would deign to listen, if only to see Hoshina finally make a complete ass of himself.

A career as a rap artist?

Please.

This was all a means to draw attention away from the fact that he was weaker than Narumi, and everyone was in denial if they couldn't see it.

Ignoring the way Hasegawa was glancing at him sideways while sipping his tea, Narumi increased the volume a little.

"Huh. I guess he does have some talent for this pointless shit. Has to be good at something. I don't give a damn. As long as he leaves me out of this stupid diss track, or whatever he's going - "

"Now listen close

Bet he's locked in,

Ear to the phone

He ain't gamin'

Y'hate my hair,

hate my smile

Sir, I got game

bigger than your laundry pile."

A tense silence settled over the base, and many heads swiveled nervously in the direction of Narumi's office.

Within, Hasegawa's shoulders had begun to shake with suspicious repression as he shielded his face behind a newspaper, while Narumi had grown dangerously still.

"Did ... did he just - "

"Captain of the First,

But he's comin' in last,

Honey, I'll wait

Am I goin' too fast?

Blow up those kaiju

Wit' your bayonet

But this city's the only thing

your makin' wet

Ain't no trick, 

Swish and flick,

I kill kaiju faster

Than his Naru-mini dick."

The roar that escaped the Captain's office shook the windows with its righteous ire, along with the teacup rattling in Hasegawa's saucer.

"Bowl Cut!"

Ashiro caught Hoshina outside the children's section of the hospital, sighing as he peeled the artfully applied stick-on tattoos from his skin.

"You really had me believing they were permanent."

"All part o' the role, Cap."

"Did the children enjoy it?"

"Had to get the nurses to stop 'em from dancing on their beds."

She gave a small, wry smile as she fell into step beside him, his hair restored to its neat, ordered state as he unhooked the chains from around his neck. 

"Guess you fulfilled your role as Vice-Captain. What'll you do about the publicity, though? Your track reached number one on the charts, you know."

"Oh, nothing. Let it stay there for a while. People will forget it even happened, with time."

"Your brother's been calling my office non-stop."

"Don't pick up."

"So has Narumi. He left a message. Said he wants a showdown at the onsen."

"The onsen?"

"You called his ... size into question."

"Ahh, guess I should've predicted that."

"Guess it's back to regular duties, then?"

"With pleasure, Captain. My cute little officers must be missin' my voice on the training field."

He turned and shot her a small wink.

"Wouldn't wanna rob 'em of my flow, y'know?"

[pmpmyread]

The rhymes in this are frying me lmaooo. Hoshina enjoyed this too much, suspiciously so (but maybe let him keep the chains...)

[kentocalls]

nanami kento || papamin 1.7kish, reader, baby yuji, and nanami celebrate his birthday. no bears or subway employees were harmed in the making. Day 3 prompt. Yes this is out of order and Yes I am late. Shh!

"Shhhhh!"

You would not argue with Yuji for any reason as small as this, however, surely, the pad of your feet against the wooden floors at 2pm, an hour before Nanami Kento is said to come home, doesn't need shushing does it?

"Someone's—" "Shhhh!!!" In a whisper, you try again, "Someone is excited." "Papamin can hear."

You quirk an eyebrow up, the boy returns to his task at hand. Sawing strawberries, the long ways, for cake decorations. It's a bit lopsided, but Yuji insisted every single bit of cake was necessary.

How else would his precious Papamin know how much the youngest adores him? Every single sprinkle and crumb is necessary!

You cut the blueberries for him, because those are too small and too squishy for his child-safe knife. It's cute, watching him concentrate so much, the boy has never been silent this long, if that doesn't speak to his devotion of Papamin what else would?

The lopsided cake becomes yours and Yuji's to decorate once all the fruit is chopped up. Yuji wants more fluffy clouds and you're not sure which frosting tip is supposed to make that, but selecting a 'open star' and praying it meets the critique of your harshest grader yet.

He claps happily and then carefully holds tongs to get the fruit onto the cake, though one drops a bit prematurely and his fingers go to grab the slippery sweetness. "Uh oh…." You can see his eyes water, there's a large hole where his finger previously was. You smile all the same, "Watch this."

You've binged a plethora of cake decorating videos, grabbing a flat long spatula and dropping a dollop of frosting a top, you sooth over the hole best as possible and make a flower with the tiny strawberries Yuji has cut up. "Flowers for Papamin!"

Nodding, you decorate the rest of the cake with help from the youngster, blueberries in the middle, more sprinkles on the cloud. It's no where near the pinterest photo but it's real and here. On the table where you, Yuji and Nanami will have lazy late lunch together. "Time to put it in the fridge!"

He escorts you like a bodyguard, pulling chairs and decorative vases larger than him away from your path, opening the fridge and insisting to hide the cake behind apple juice. His Papamin isn't a fan of that, after all, it's only for Yuji.

He gives you a high-five as you set about cleaning up. He's reciting all the words you've taught him today, spelling them each while he bounces around you, mostly excited the longest word he knows how to spell is birthday. Yuji did confess earlier, he didn't think it was such a long word, "B-d-a-y-, birthday." "B-i-r-t-h-d-a-y- birthday."

🎂

It isn't as if Nanami Kento is anticipating anything big, birthdays have taken new meanings once Yuji stepped into his life. Never had he imaged actually stepping in to parent his Godson, but he is nothing if not dutiful. He made a vow to keep Yuji safe always, and if that means processing his own stunted emotional baggage, then so be it.

He's brought balloons that fly, the kind Yuji will enjoy. He smiles picturing the blue and gold balloons floating around his kitchen, Yuji hidden by the island. Maybe Nanami should keep balloons on Yuji always, this way he'd always have awareness to his location.

You may not be a fan of that.

You and your sweet smile, kind eyes and, happy-to-help attitude. You work at Yuji's day care, one illness gone on too long, you staying by Nanami's side late into the emergency room, and he… he's a selfish as any man isn't he?

"You don't have to do this alone, Nanami." You had said it so matter of fact, as if the entire world would conspire to help protect Yuji if Nanami dared to look for hope.

Either way, his heart fills and is ready to spill over hearing, "Papamin!", upon entering the apartment. He tucks his shoes into the cabinet, places his coat and briefcase on the chair on the side, meant for these things, and keeps himself in a crouching position when Yuji's tell-tale feet pad across the floors. Your huff of "Yuji!" as he rounds the corner, giggling into Papamin's arms who raises to his full height.

He squeezes his arms around Nanami as best he can, "B-e-r-d-a-y! Happy Birthday!"

"Is it mine? Already?" Yuji laughs at that, you sigh, "He does know how to spell it, properly." Yuji does a 'Nu uh' and hides into his Papamin giggling, kicking his feet. "Happy Birthday Nanami, Yuji—" "Shh!"

You lift your arms, "Alright alright, all we did today was spelling." Yuji lifts his head, "Spellings." Nanami tilts his a bit, assessing your words, does he allow this little secret you two are in on? "Spellings."

🎂

The "stuffed" bear Yuji has made for Nanami is a hoot. It's tiny head and entirely too beefy middle body has the Nanami Kento laughing in ways that feel too precious to share with the world. And somehow you're allowed here, on this sofa, to watch him soften in safety. "Papamin!" Yuji lifts the bear in triumph, clearly his gift for Nanami will be the one snuggling him for weeks on end.

You pull out a miniature stuffed teddy bear, "Yujimin."

Yuji gasps, dropping Papamin teddy into Nanami's lap before crawling over the sofa cushions, stepping into your thighs and raising his arms for the teddy. It's a bit painful, he's starting to get too big for this kind of climbing adventures, but you drop the bear into his hands. He sits in your laps, tiny gasps and oohs, "Pink! Like me!" He points to the fur, you nod, brushing his pink hair from the back of his face, "Like yours."

Nanami pulls the Papamin teddy up, "Bath time."

Which is longer, because Yuji needs a story on how Yujimin and Papamin Teddy's came to be, how they found one another, where will they find honey? Do they know Winnie the Pooh? Important considerations to be made!

🎂

Yuji sleeps star fished, Papamin teddy on his belly and Yujimin teddy near his cheek. He made it through four pages of the book Nanami read to him, and then lights out. "He had a big day." You say to Nanami.

Tucking in the chairs at the dinning table, out of habit. Yuji has run into these more often than not, Kento clears the crayons and table set. A wipe down with a disinfecting wipes, down the sides of every chair's arm and he's in the kitchen. "I got this."

He notes, you trying to unload the dishwasher, it's more routine now. Him insisting on taking on the chores he can't due to his job, you meandering around the space, reluctant to leave. "How's your book coming along?"

"Hmm, still have just one fan." Your eyes dart over to Yuji's door, and then at the ground. You should get on that, finding a way to print and publish the children's book you've been working on. Nanami believes in your project, but that's Nanami, you wonder if there's anything you'd insist on doing that he wouldn't support you with.

It's not that his faith is blind, you've seen him reject the business ideas his blue eyed friend brings him, so… it's hard to say he's a bit soft on you. Cuz maybe he is, and then what does that mean?

You're an important piece of the village Nanami has mustered around him, he was suddenly thrown into guardianship. So unequipped he was those two years ago, now he understands Yuji before Yuji himself can find the right words—which he knows, he needs to break the habit of doing. Encourage Yuji using his own voice, allow him to fumble and struggle over certain words, yet he can't can he?

He wants to protect Yuji, who is too young to understand where his mother and father have gone, why Papamin is here. "Hey." A warmth that spreads only under your fingertips, your palm must be the missing piece from the sun, he turns softly, inquisitive.

A tiny blue box, a green ribbon, "Happy Birthday Kento."

You didn't have to, you know this. All the extra care you do with Yuji is the gift itself Nanami could never, ever, repay you for, but here you are again. Helplessly kind, caring, doting.

A selfish man he is, drying his hands with the sink towel, letting it rest over a broad shoulder as he takes the box, "Can I open it now or later?"

"Now." You wanna hear it, the big hearty laugh you know he'll let roar from his throat. Carefully he tugs at the green ribbon, ever gently, slides the tip of his finger into the careful folds of the paper. It's blue, which means it's Papamin, which means Yuji will absolutely want to play with it, draw on it, etc…

The plain box gives away nothing of it's contents, but as he removes the lid, the laugh he lets out is infection! Gosh, what a handsome, handsome man, he lifts the Italian Herbs & Cheese inspired seasoning, "Now, you know this could spell trouble."

"Trouble?" The smile doesn't fade from your lips, he nods, "What if Martha from Subway catches wind of this? Buying off-brand seasoning—"

"It's an artisan blend," you shrug, "if it reminds you of your precious Subway bread, that's on you." He loves when you do that, calling him out on his slightly unhealthy habit of eating at Subway almost daily. Yuji was much younger and Nanami still unprepared for what it takes to feed, raise, clothe, bathe, keep alive a toddler.

"I haven't been there in…," Gosh how he crosses his arms, hand to his chin, exaggerated thinking, "Huh, five days."

"Crazy." You lean close, hand on his forehead, "Are you catching something Kento?" You hand drops back to your side, he's tempted to catch it, you need to check again, who is he? Not eating at Subway for a whole 120 hours. And then you sing-song, "Must be all the recipes I've shown you, real food Kento, is unbeatable."

It is.

He thinks fondly of your patience in teaching him Yuji's favorite 'green sauce' pasta, an abundance of tenderness in your hands, helping him chop, stir, plate. "But… if you'd like to, scratch that craving, I guess I could be free tomorrow noon."

"Tomorrow noon?" He has a call with Gojo Satoru about thermal socks and their untapped potential, an easy thing to cancel. "Well, I can't promise a thing about the service," he holds the seasoning up, "But we could absolutely compare the two."

"So it's a date then?" "It's a date."

[claudialynq]

My beloved nanami 💝

[nyokoko]

A little something different. Made Asabé into a WHA character. 🤭

[rukiadriedhisrain]

Squad 1 & Squad 4

[lazyjellyfish300]

𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 ⋆ .ೃ࿔ ⛈ ݁ ˖

˚ˑ 𓆸 post shibuya scarred!kento nanami x fem wife!reader

˚ˑ 𓆸 synopsis: life is busier than ever in your farmhouse with four children, and the chaos doesn't stop on your wedding anniversary, but your husband's efforts to make it special don't either. 💕

˚ˑ 𓆸 cw: Light suggestiveness so MINORS DNI, Fluff, humor, mild angst, children, description of breastfeeding, parenting, self-ship/self indulgent hell.

˚ˑ 𓆸 word count: 6k

˚ˑ 𓆸 a/n: this is my day 3 entry for Nanami Week 2026 special prompt: Papamin! 🥐💕 Happy Happy Birthday, Kento. 💕 All of my love.💕 this was supposed to be finished months ago, so ain't no time like the present. 🎂🤗🎁 (pun intended)

˚ˑ 𓆸 @eveningatthemoviesnetwork @nanamiweek . dividers by @/saradika-graphics. sparkles by @/anitalenia.

Across the planes of dew-kissed grass, freshly showered by the unrelenting rain of this pocket of earth, is the Nanamis' farmhouse with its fog-streaked clear window panes, peeling cupboards and old roof, once seized by darkness and shadows where lacey curtain-veiled light, coffee, and sleepy laughter now remains.

Life has slowly transformed into the tender chaos of full hands and no sleep.

Now, with the light that manages to bleed through the constant rainclouds in temporary respite with the rising morning, Kento Nanami manages to untangle himself from the heap of his sleeping family.

The slumber twists his muscles in tight knots that he slowly irons out with each shaky step towards the bedroom door, grunting as he reaches his hands to the sky and a gravelly yawn resounds from his throat.

Kento opens the door with a creak, running a hand where the faint cowlick over the scarred skin of the left side of his head is more apparent thanks to your shared bed being overrun with stubborn little roommates.

The puffiness under his eyes, one hollow, is now attributed to something else besides the daunting demands of jujutsu.

It's far more rewarding in the form of a world that thrives on syrup, berries, crayons, and tentative routine based on the chattering whims of the little princesses strolling sleepily towards the hallway in a row.

"That's one, two..." Kento yawns, pausing as the expected last pair of feet never makes an entrance.

He tiptoes back to the bed, careful not to disturb you.

"...three." Kento hums and plucks your youngest daughter, affectionately nicknamed Noodle, from her hiding spot underneath the covers where you're still sleep.

"Stay put, love." Kento whispers when you begin to sit up, sinking immediately back into the beckoning from the newly charged cold side of your pillow, the nagging of your sleep deficit that could never go fulfilled, and the sudden leg room that was so hard to come by these days when the kids had nightmares.

Small cries break the silence from the bassinet next to you before you can even blink, and with a groan you rise and tend to your baby boy with a tired smile.

-----

"HapPY ANnIvERsaRY!!"

A slightly off-key chorus greets you when you eventually emerge into the flour-dusted kitchen, warm with the scent of what smells like lingering vanilla, maple soaking into a large stack of haphazardly stacked waffles, and a fresh bouquet of wildflowers in the famous beloved chipped coffee mug that never deserted its repurposed role as a vase.

"Oh my goodness! Breakfast?"

"From scratch." Kento assures, ragged breath leaving his lungs from managing an overrun kitchen as he leans in to kiss you.

"Wasn't expecting the change up."

You beam politely and stumble as your eldest daughter, lovingly known as Jellybean, pulls out your chair for you, almost a little too far, nearly causing you to fall flat on your ass.

"Oop- but I'll take this over the diner any day."

"The diner is still on the itinerary. I was merely momentarily overruled." Kento wearily explains as he takes dishes out of the cupboard, passing it down the assembly line of Jellybean, Bee(your second eldest daughter), then Noodle, who slams her fists down on her placemat, fork and knife in hand.

"Despite my reminder..." Kento gives her a stern eyebrow to which she straightens up. "...that we would be eating in less than two hours at the restaurant, the girls insisted there must be homemade waffles. So naturally, we made homemade waffles. "

cough cough

"Oh, yes. By the brilliance of Bee's mind this clever idea was hatched. By Bee alone, and Bee nonetheless."

"Rgkgkl!" Noodle chimes in with a pout.

"You did provide exemplary support, Noodle. You're right." Kento ruffles her hair and she grins triumphantly while it's Bee's turn to sulk at her perceived dimmed spotlight.

"A respectable leader acknowledges the work of others." Kento reminds her, before beginning to cut up Noodle's waffle before she implodes from impatience.

"I'm sorry mother couldn't watch the kids." Kento states regretfully in a lower voice, leaning in to place a hand on your thigh before handing off Noodle's plate like a zookeeper to a hangry lion with piranha teeth.

"Oh no, she needed the rest." You reassure him cheerfully, trying to stuff down the resurfaced disappointment in your tone that might lead to another lump in your throat if you dwelled on it too long.

You had noticed the cancelled reservation for one of the resorts near the city that you had on your couple's bucket list for quite some time on Kento's laptop last night that led to a downpour of tears after everyone was asleep.

Today was a day you looked forward to all year long after all, for the time spent with Kento to remember what it felt like to exist as a couple again. But, the cancellation was for good reason.

You recall seeing Mamma Nanami on the video call, her voice thick with exhaustion that Kento registered early on as abnormal.

-----

"How are the petunias, Mamma?" Kento asked his mother, balancing a scheming Bubba(nickname for your baby boy), in his lap before he snatched the phone with his chubby hands, shoving it into his mouth. "Hey!"

"Yes, hello, little Bubba." Mamma Nanami coughs while Bubba and Kento engage in a brief tug-of-war for the phone.

"They're well. However, I didn't get to spend as long on them yesterday as I would've liked." Cough "I'll need to wait to plant the new seedlings next weekend." Cough cough cough

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just an itch in my throat."

Pause.

Hack, COUGH

"I've been drinking tea with honey."

She lifts up the tea cup to the camera with a shaky hand, pausing to take a polite sip. "I came in early yesterday because I was lightheated, but I'm doing much better this afternoon."

Kento narrows his gaze, squirming more uncomfortably as he stops wrestling with Bubba for a moment as his mother's words land, which were becoming more clear that they were completely out of the norm for someone who he always thought of first when it came to the epitome of heath.

"Mor. You're not fine. I don't think you should be traveling here to watch the kids anytime soon. "

"Oh, Kento. I'm fine, I insist."

"As do I. Are you really sure you're well enough to travel tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course!" Mamma Nanami shifts, allowing her beloved Boston Terrier, Franz, to say hello to the camera.

Franz blinks, his bug beady eyes which were usually carefree with his lavish lifestyle betray a hint of tiredness and fear, knowing he would have more responsibilities on his paws to take care of his beloved Mamma while she nurses back to health than usual.

"Mor, please. I'd rather you get some rest. We'll see you soon enough."

"If, *cough*, you say so."

"I do."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Goodbye, Bubba!"

----

"Well, we should eat this immediately if we don't want it to get cold." Kento pauses, checking his watch. "Damn." He mutters as the time, possibly the only thing more unpredictable than his unruly team of sous chefs, got away from him despite his ample planning.

"Hey, no, you go shower and get ready, Ken. Seriously, I got it."

"Are you certain?"

*brief pause*

"Of course!" You plaster on a smile as Bubba begins to thrash in your lap like an irrate koala, pawing at your bra where the nursing pad got displaced overnight, already beginning to soak through one of Kento's faded band tees you're wearing.

Noodle shoves forkful after forkful of waffles in her mouth with syrup stained chipmunk cheeks, all while Jellybean and Bee had snuck under the radar and are suspiciously nowhere to be found.

*A faint crash resounds from the living room*

"Oooo."

You can't help but laugh, a mixture of exasperation and amusement while the lines between Kento's eyebrows crinkle with anticipatory exhaustion.

"Sounds like another earthquake has struck Little Nanami." Kento scoots away from the table, referring to your daughters' excessively growing collection of Littlest Pet Shops they organized into a thriving society with a complex legal system and complicated personal interrelationships.

"Oh? It's no longer New Nanami?" You manage to take a bite of waffle, balancing Bubba and wincing momentarily as he latches for his morning feed.

"Midterm elections were held last week." Kento reminds you of the city's recent developments, seceding from the previous oppressive rule of the cockatoo king, stacking some of the dirty dishes in the sink before he turns to go and assess the damage Jellybean and Bee were getting up to.

"Oh, how did that go?"

"There was minimal corruption and voter intimidation at the polls this time, so I'm told." Kento disappears for a moment before calling from around the corner.

"Though the new prime minister elect still needs to prove himself before I'm thoroughly convinced."

You turn your attention to Noodle, who's back to cronching obnoxiously on her waffles like it's her last meal on Earth, doing your best to keep Bubba calm as he begins to whine in protest for more milk.

"Noodle, slow down. Nobody's taking it from you." You shake your head, ruefully muttering under your breath at Noodle's overzealous chewing habits, oddly reminiscent of your husband, who, contrary to popular belief, was far from immune to succumbing to the tantalizing nature of his favorite delicacies.

"You might be worse than Daddy when he orders the sub of the day."

Like Kento, Like Noodle.

Almost as if on cue, Kento strides back into the room, looking relieved.

"There is mild damage to the infrastructure of Little Nanami, including the Twin City Bridge. However it is still functioning with minimal disruptions to the morning flow of traffic, I'm pleased to report."

He pauses. "Though Mrs. Rabbit is expecting again, I'm afraid."

"Oh my. That poor lady needs a break. It's about damn time she stop carrying that entire marriage on her back."

"Mr. Rabbit finally agreed to counseling." Kento bends down, rubbing noses with Bubba, who's more than happy to see his Daddy after his sisters took up more than their fair share of his time this morning.

"Well, I'm gonna need to see all of this for myself. I need a full rundown of all the recent drama."

"If you're lucky, you might get to witness what I believe will be the beginning of a promising character redemption arc for our Mr. Rabbit." Kento grins, bouncing Bubba in his arms.

"Well, what do you think, Noodle? Shall we go watch your sisters while Dad and Bubba get ready? Oh, just great."

You shake your head as Noodle's more interested in demanding chocolate for breakfast part two instead, standing on tiptoe and pawing at the cupboard that you and Kento had to secretly designate as the hiding place for the sweets for the third time in a row.

"I'll be as fast as I can." Kento murmurs, kissing you on your cheek while Bubba shoots you a toothless grin, more than pleased to leave all the hullabaloo behind as he leans on Kento's shoulder, disappearing up the stairs while you corral a stubborn Noodle away from the dessert cupboard.

----

"Are we there yet?"

You and Kento glance at each other as the countryside zips past in a rainy blur of green, munchkins piled in the back of the sleek suburban Kento resigned himself to purchasing, a good substitute for a minivan that he knew Gojo would never let him hear the end of.

"Well, I hope you're okay with making a pit stop, because I do believe you owe me a coffee and a pastry for that one." You murmur.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, hm?" Kento shakes his head, pursing his lips as he leans over to place a hand on your thigh.

"It was my mistake for being so naive as to think we'd complete an entire road trip without that question being asked."

"We can hear you, yanno!"

Kento's good eye flickers to the rearview mirror to a displeased Jellybean, arms folded in the backseat.

"Well, if your mother and I were not so frequently asked questions you already know the answer to, then we wouldn't need to keep a tally, would we?"

"That was Bee!"

"Me?!" Bee leans forward while Jellybean dodges eye contact two seats over, Noodle covering her ears in the middle, who lets out an inhuman screech.

"AYE!!!! We'll have no more of THAT." You groan, fingers clutching your temples.

"Don't instigate them, please, sweetheart." You beg Kento quietly who lets out a deflated sigh.

"Alright. I apologize, my loves."

Silence.

"...for making these comments out in the open. I will keep my thoughts private next time."

You hum and smile as Jellybean and Bee's faces soften, seemingly accepting Kento's apology for now.

"Here we are."

The seaside village limits come into view and your hand intertwines with Kento's, hazy memories surging in a whirlwind every time you visit.

Fashback to an early rainy morning just like this one, with built up breaths and omitted words from handwritten vows slipping out of memory with every passing minute of anticipation until you met each other across that small chapel's altar this day five years ago.

The condensation outside the car builds up with the flowing fog and you smile as Bee takes the opportunity to draw a portrait of Kento fighting a dragon on her window.

---

The cobblestones rumble under the tires as you come up on the diner, with the same peeled chipped paint sign, creaking in the rushing breeze from the blue churning waves of the sea just yards to your right past the brick wall, faded yellow lights coming from the inside and the thick smell of piping hot breakfast food lingering along the windows.

You remember it all too well as you walk towards the door, except the sunlight had escaped the clouds the first time you had entered and your fists held the hem of your flowing wedding dress instead of a sleeping baby and a quarter full bottle of milk.

The kids slip in the door, one after another.

"Pardon me, ma'am, there's a fee to enter."

"Oh?"

"It's still our anniversary." Kento murmurs, lips brushing past your cheek as he takes Bubba from your arms to allow you to pass by with ease.

"I still intend on making today special. Later. Privately."

You smile, unable to to resist indulging him as the door shuts behind him.

----

The restaurant outing with the kids is already proving to have been a great idea in theory, but not in practice.

Bubba squirms in your arms, seemingly unsatisfied with every which way you hold him and refusing his bottle, so you rotate him like an ornery rotisserie to keep him from screaming and disturbing the patrons around you.

"I'm hungry." Bee whines as Jellybean shoots a straw wrapper towards Kento, landing perfectly in his coffee.

"Let's remember our manners at the table, please, Jellybean." Kento fishes the straw wrapper out of his mug.

"Brghhh!" Noodle yells, slamming her fists, seemingly pissed at the lack of food on her plate with every passing minute.

"I beg your pardon?" Kento asks, stirring a splash of cream into his coffee, eyebrows raised, lips in a firm line of stern patience.

"I think I understand what you're trying to say, Noodle, but is that any way to ask?"

Noodle exhales. "Brgh." She repeats in a calmer voice.

"Yes, you may." Kento slides her a piece of his toast with a spoonful of strawberry jam as she excitedly claps her hands together.

"When is our food getting heree?" Bee complains, leaning on her elbow.

"Soon." You answer Bee, shuffling Bubba once again.

"You're welcome to have a slice of my toast to tide yourself over." Kento replies, smoothing his butter knife over the bread. He takes a bite, offering it to Bee, to which she turns up her nose.

"Ah, good timing!" You sigh, relieved as your tray of food approaches.

Unfortunately for you, Bubba seems to take that as his cue to be even more restless than usual with Noodle pawing at your dress in a bid for competing attention that she didn't like to see her new baby brother get as of late.

"Noodle, pockets on the chair where they belong. Yes, sir, thank you. Oh no, the grilled cheese belongs to Jellybean over there. The chicken nuggets go to Bee."

"I don't LIKE KETCHUP."

"Bee. Enough. Apologies, sir, may we get this without the ketchup? Thank you."

"AHHHHHHHH!!!!"

"Thank you, Bubba, for your input."

"Mom! Noodle won't stop kicking me under the tableee."

"It's too hot in hereee."

"Can we get ice cream?"

"Jellybean, we just got our food?!" You groan, with a facepalm.

Lunch may as well have transformed into an all out circus as this point. Noodle and Bubba in particular aren't having it.

"I think they need a break." You gesture to Bubba who can't stop squirming for more than two seconds and Noodle who has given up on using her fork for her potato chips.

Kento's stomach growls loudly. "I think you're correct. I'll take them for a walk."

"No, Kento. You eat first. I'm fine."

"Absolutely not. I'd rather take them before they become more disruptive."

"Kento. I had the waffles at the house. I'm good for a minute." You smile. "Partnership."

Kento nods, then scoots in. "I'll be fast. I promise."

He eats quickly, shoving in forkful after forkful.

"Kento, slow down. You can enjoy your meal, yanno?"

Gulp "...won't be a minute. ...Need to quickly, so you can, slurp, eat." Cronch cronch cronch

Kento reaches for Bubba, salt and vinegar kettle chip crumbs trailing down his front from the layer he stuffed into his casse croute for extra crunch. (A guilty pleasure of his)

"Ready—wait, hold on." He brushes off his shirt then gestures again. "Ready now."

You smile as Kento takes Bubba who immediately calms and Noodle who stops antagonizing her sisters, takes her Daddy by the hand, and walks outside for a fresh breath of ocean air, leaving you to a calm meal with Jellybean and Bee, wondering how you got so lucky.

----

"Thank God." You both groan with relief as you trudge through the door of the farmhouse.

Smoke, the elusive barn cat who reserves his appearances for special occasions and food only, watches from his opening on the stairwell with big, sage green eyes and smirk on his face at his ridiculous humans.

"Nap time?"

The kids run and tear through the living room, dead set on taking this tsunami to the backyard.

"I spoke way too soon."

"Hey, at least Bubba's out."

Kento smiles, running his thumb across the little boy's chubby cheeks. "You both should rest."

"But Kento-"

"Please. He needs it. And so do you." Kento leans in, nosing your hair.

"...And there might be a good reason for you to be away from the kitchen for a few hours. Anniversary's not over yet."

"Ohh, okay."

He smiles and kisses you at the bottom of the stairs. "Rest well, Mrs. Nanami."

----

"Alright. Operation: Strawberry Chocolate Cheesecake."

"Daddy. Can we eat the strawberries?" Bee asks as Noodle eyes a juicy strawberry hanging on the nearby vine in the middle of the large strawberry bushes outside.

"You may." Kento answers. "Keep in mind how many we will need for the recipe. So it's up to you on how many Momma gets in her cheesecake. Jellybean, I trust you to regulate your younger siblings."

Jellybean nods and turns to Noodle. "We got only one chance to make this right. So just one for now, and that's it."

"One." Noodle agrees, looking both ways as soon as Jellybean's back is turned, stuffing her pockets.

—-

Some time later, Kento tends to the chickens while your barnyard pig named Fig is eating her lunch and watching her afternoon show: the shenanigans unfolding in the pasture between Bee and Jellybean when Noodle approaches, clumsily unstealthily behind her.

"Noodle." Kento says without turning around from the chickens. "Back up, please. Fig is occupied. You can play with her when she's done."

The words fall on deaf ears. Fig continues devouring her food without interruption, seemingly unperturbed by the slow moving invasion into her personal space away in her peripheral vision.

"Noodle. I won't ask again."

poke

OINK!

Bonk, SPLAT!

"Daaaaaaaddy!!!"

Kento turns around to find a nonchalant Fig who goes back to munching, and a very sad Noodle covered in mud from being knocked over.

"Are you alright, my love?" Kento asks calmly, looking her over, giving her a hug of support in this particularly hard moment.

"Yes. I think you will survive this one."

He looks at Fig. "You're not exempt from taking responsibility for your part in this, Fig."

Ignoring him, Fig's comeback is gobbling her food with even more gusto than before.

"Sows. Am I right?" Kento jokes lightheartedly which earns a giggle from Noodle.

"Now, we've learned a hard lesson. Leave Fig to her food and respect each other's personal space."

He looks at Fig. "And we don't resolve conflicts by headbutting people."

The skies impatiently growl as the afternoon light turns grey again, causing everyone to head inside.

----

On the other side of the clear windows that begin to rumble again with the sprinkle of raindrops, the chefs of the Nanamis' kitchen lock in for the most arduous task of the day.

"Operation Strawberry Chocolate cheesecake: entering phase two."

Kento ties his custom Snoopy apron, the one you gifted for his 34th birthday with the title: "Papamin" emblazoned across the front in true head chef fashion.

"Gardening team, how well did we make out with today's harvest?"

"Noodle's got it! Show Daddy, Noodle."

Noodle immediately goes silent, a cloud of shame hanging over her head.

"Noodle?"

Noodle places the empty basket on the countertop and the kitchen goes silent.

"I...pardon?" Kento's jaw drops silently in shock while the rest of the kitchen turns on Noodle.

"Noodle!"

"You blew it!"

Noodle's lip trembles as tears pool and trickle down her face.

"That's quite enough." Kento snaps. "Jellybean, Bee? I thought I asked you to keep an eye on things."

"We did b-but..."

"Alright. Okay, yes, fine. This is fine. Everyone." Kento gets their attention.

"We will not panic. We'll make a plain chocolate cheesecake, that's all."

"But I don't like chocolate cheesecake!"

"Well, first, this treat is for your mother. And for second..." Kento states his words more crossly at their sulking expressions.

"...We will need to improvise since the strawberries...did not go as planned." Kento nods as he starts dusting the counter in flour, building the base for the pie crust.

"Now hurry, we don't have much time."

-----

Sunset begins to make its descent between the stalwart puffs of grey, swirls of lavender and orange blur the horizon as the evening prepares to wrap its arms around it.

The door to your bedroom creaks softly, Kento and three sets of curious eyes peek through the doorway before it closes again.

"Momma's asleep." Kento hushes the girls with their disappointed reactions.

"Shh...shh, I know, I know. On the bright side, I hear the bedtime fairy will make an appearance to anyone who's in their pajamas before 8."

Kento smiles to himself as the girls gasp and make haste without another word.

---

The TV hums with the familiar sound of the girls' favorite Disney DVD. Normally, movies were out of the question within a three hour window of bedtime, but with number of the little despairs of the day being incredibly higher than usual, Kento figured that moderate effort this time would need to suffice.

And if Robinhood and crew could entertain and simmer down the seemingly endless supply of energy your girls seemed to possess, then he was fine with not choosing that battle.

Kento strokes Noodle and Bee's hair, who of course had engaged in battle royale over who got to sit on their Daddy's lap before a tearful treaty was reached and reluctantly agreed upon.

Kento does his best not to count the hours by the disappearing daylight of your anniversary and listen for the signal of the evening thunder (because of course, his novel was clear on the other side of the couch, rendering him stuck), absentmindedly paying attention to the film he damn near had memorized by now.

🎶"Oo DE LALLy GoLLy whAt A DaY." 🎶

Action scene, kiss, same old same old, but wait...

Kento's train of thought is pulled to the back door that still hasn't seen Jellybean emerge from the storm from her usual duty to lock down the animals for the evening.

"Daddy! Where're you going??"

"There's no need to worry, loves. I'm going to get your sister." Kento reassures a concerned Bee who's holding Noodle who looks distraught at the sight of Kento in his boots and coat.

"I'll be right back."

----

The grass sloshes with the sound of mud and the rain that clung to the earth in excessive abandon at all times.

"Jellybean!"

Kento realizes she's not anywhere to be found near the stables, the fence to the pasture is left wide open and a pit of dread settles in his stomach.

"Jellybean!" He strides quickly towards the opening, feeling underneath his coat for his dull knife that largely sat retired on the wooden shelf in the kitchen, but always stayed at the ready.

"Daddy!" Jellybean yells, running towards him.

"Jellybean!"

The pit in Kento's stomach loosens, but comes right back at Jellybean's visible upsetness, as she's hyperventilating between broken sobs.

"You scared me, what's wrong, where have you been?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy!! I'm sorry!!" Jellybean is inconsolable, her tears indistinguishable from the raindrops pouring from the divot in the hood of her polka dot rain jacket.

"Fig was way too fast!"

"What?"

The words "fast "and "Fig" rarely ever showed up within the same sentence.

"Fig ran away!"

"Fig??"

Kento looks at the barn, then the pasture, the open fence, and then the road, all of which were conveniently bare of all evidence or traces as to where the she could have ran off to.

"How on Earth did she escape?"

"I don't know!" Jellybean sobs. "I don't know! I swear I only turned my back for a minute then she was gone!!"

"Alright, alright. Calm down, Jellybean. It's alright. Stay here and look after your sisters. Look at me, Jellybean. Listen. If Fig comes back, you immediately close the gate and call me, don't try and wrangle her yourself, understood?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"I'll be back " Kento slides into the drivers seat of his vintage Buick, not looking both ways before he tears down the muddy road after the rogue sow.

-----

The countryside is now in the heart of the downpour.

Raindrops flood the windshield in neverending streaks. Kento's leaned forward, hands gripping the steering wheel, dialed in to anything that might resemble the runaway pig. The search has been well underway for nearly a half hour with no sign of the Houdini swine.

"That damn pig." Kento mutters, becoming more irritated with every passing mile, unsure if he should be furious or impressed with how much distance Fig was able to cover in such a short time, unless of course she didn't have any eyes on her for much longer than Jellybean let on initially.

That's when he finally sees it.

A distant figure, a suspiciously very Fig-shaped blob hobbling along the side of the muddy road, seemingly set on her destination when no passing cars offered to give her a ride.

"HEY!" Kento hollers as he rolls down the window.

Fig takes one look at the approaching headlights and proceeds to bolt at high speed.

"Shit."

Kento floors the gas pedal in hot pursuit, taking care not to veer off the road or hit his traveling target on accident.

Fig zooms until she reaches a dead end in the road. She slams on her brakes, but it's too late, sliding into the neighbor's fence.

SPLAT!

The free blueberries sign is now covered in a muddy Fig-shaped outline like a crime scene while Kento wrestles her into the car and the neighbors watch and laugh from the windows.

----

"Did you honestly think that was a wise idea?" Kento asks Fig during the drive back as she rides with her rump facing him, looking out the window.

Angry silence.

"When you were planning this, was there any part of you that thought to yourself how foolish all of this was?"

Fig is fuming right now.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself, Fig Newton Nanami?"

Fig barks in frustration as they pull into the driveway.

"That stunt of yours just landed you an oats only dinner. No baby carrots tonight."

Fig huffs and walks into her stall with her head held high, knowing fully well she would be on Kento's good side by the morning.

And she'd do it all over again.

------

You rustle out of sleep from the crick in your neck and the feeling of Bubba being taken out of your arms.

"Kento...huh?"

"Didn't mean to wake you." He murmurs, smiling fondly at you.

"What's the meaning of all this? Why are you wet? Is that mud on your cheek?"

"I'm helping."

"I had it under control, dear."

"Mhm...I'm sure you and Bubba were very productive." Kento teases lightly, deciding not to point out the pile of laundry you both fell asleep on top of and stayed that way well past your usual naptime; the look he's giving you right now says it all for him.

"Alright, you win."

"You know, it's still the 7th for a few more hours." He murmurs leaning in.

"Go into the guest bedroom. I'll meet you there." He whispers, kissing your hair.

"Kento."

"Partnership, remember?" He smiles, reminding you of the diner, now your turn to chuckle at the friendly irony, the neverending game of putting one another first that neither of you would ever give up trying not to lose.

An eternal stalemate you're happy to never reign in.

-----

The low yellow light of the quiet guest room flickers with the lemon honeysuckle candle on the nightstand. The muted drumming of the rain dances on the roof, the countryside's eternal lullaby.

You had opened your book and then one chapter became two, then three, then...

You snap out of your reverie, realizing when the drizzling pauses that Kento is nowhere to be found.

You slip on your robe and venture out to find him.

-----

You can make out the faint glowing outline of the kids' bedroom door at the end of the hall, slipping inside.

The figure you're searching for is tucked in the middle of the bed in the dead center of the room, bottom bunk occupied by three little pairs of legs, your husband's in the middle.

"Ken?"

Kento's good eye opens sluggishly as his drowsy mind deeply recalls the softness of your voice from far away.

"Mrhhh...what time is it?" He inhales sharply, shivering as he stretches with Noodle's face buried in his neck, curled in a ball on his stomach.

You carefully take her into your arms, while Bee and Jellybean remain on either side trapping Kento in place.

Mid-stretch, Kento's calf seizes up, causing a charlie horse.

"Damn!"

You wince sympathetically as Kento bends back his toes, breathing through it to relieve the betraying dreadful cramp.

"Shitshitshitshit."

And then exhaling as it releases up.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

"Now I am." He looks up at you.

"It's 2 am."

Kento sighs and rubs his right eye before pulling at his eyepatch on the hollow of the left, and dragging it off over his head, tossing it to the side.

"I'm deeply sorry."

"Don't be sorry."

"They're asleep. I can possibly extract myself now. We still have time."

"Kento, please."

"I made you a promise. And I have every intention of enjoying my wife on our anniversary."

Kento moves and manages to free himself from the Bee and Jellybean trap and freezes as Noodle squirms for a moment when you lay her down, then sighs in relief when she doesn't wake up.

His gaze becomes sultry, offering a smile to you that's warm with a desire that's been suppressed by the unending demands of the day.

"Lead the way."

-----

The guest bedroom door gently bumps open with a trickle of thunder shaking the roof.

The gentle rush of lips on lips slips underneath a desperate breath or two. The bed creaks as

Kento allows the gravity of too much time apart to pull himself down on top of you.

"Slow...slow..."

"Right." Kento grunts, allowing a sigh to flow from his lips as the dip of your fingertips leave a chill on the area of exposed scarred skin on the toned muscle of his lean waist.

He's heavy lidded as he pulls his attention momentarily from the kiss to welcoming the brush of your hands from his scalp, to his back, feeling the fire churn low in his core as your lips linger longer on his, tongue prodding with only momentary hesitation as a last ditch effort for permission before glossing over your tongue.

The candles you lit on the windowsill gleam with wilted lavender, while the garden of raindrops flourishes with more blossoms like paintings on the clear glass.

Kento opens his eye, prolonging the silky caramel to the low light to drink in the soft, breathless sight below him, fingers caressing your cheeks, dusty pink blooming on his own as he takes in the map of you he had only been able to catalogue from a distance as of late, every labored breath and sigh he has memorized and aches to recite to the most sacred archive of memory for the ample time that he had foolishly allowed to pass between.

Until Bubba announces his extreme displeasure and hunger from next door like a car deserted in a McDonald's drive through.

"I'll get it."

"No please, let me."

"Kento, you were just in there. Besides he needs to eat."

This time, unlike usual, Kento doesn't argue, sinking back into the quilts, shirt half unbuttoned from your half-done shenanigans, expression more calm as his head hits the pillow.

"I suppose if you're certain." He says with a lilt of sleep before yawning deeply, more like trying to convince himself rather than assure you.

"Partnership."

"Mm."

You give him a stunning smile that he doesn't stay awake to see, closing the door behind you.

---

The percussion of rain drums to barely a drizzle.

The thunder has succumbed to slumber behind the blankets of grey clouds in the uneventful hours of the deep night.

Once Bubba is settled, you come back into the guest room. The door creaks open.

There lies Kento, blissfully asleep. You smile to yourself, realizing the novelty of one of these little moments your husband quips as little despairs lead to the realization of how far you've come behind the long blazed trail of precious memories that led you to this one, all seared into the tapestry that began in this farmhouse.

Right now, anniversaries with Kento look a little different. But these chapters are small on the grand staircase to eternity.

So, you allow yourself to settle on the current page of what will become giggles downstairs in the morning, the serendipitous extra hours of rest that unfailing partnership afforded you, and the decreasing hum from rainclouds in the distance.

His scarred hand finds the shape of your body that even sleep can't obscure from the precious saga of familiarity inscribed by love he harbors closely in wordless apology that you've long forgiven.

Early morning intimacy suited you both much better anyway.

"Happy Anniversary, you wonderful, amazing man. I love you forever. Easier than rain."

So, you lay, and you listen to the soundtrack of your little slice of eternity, the rain, ushering you to sleep in dreams to a waltzless melody Kento Nanami is already listening to, until you join him in your blissful slow dance shortly thereafter.

-----

[lyskette]

[pmpmyread]

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: In which you find a cold-afflicted Nanami Kento in rare form. Contents: early relationship, fluff, humor, slightly suggestive themes. Word count: 2.6k A/n: A late, short contribution for @nanamiweek Day 5 in between toiling at my other tardy submissions ahaha

Through the wisps of steam rising from the soup you were diligently stirring, movement flickered at the edge of your vision, just as a soft shuffling sound punctuated by a light cough emanated from the adjacent living room.

You secured the pot with its lid, set the kitchen timer for thirty minutes, and reduced the heat to a gentle simmer before finally turning to grant your full, now undivided attention to your sweet, ailing man.

“Kento, are you sure you don’t want to move back to your bed…” you trailed off as you took in the sight before you.

And what a rare sight it was.

In the short few minutes you’d turned away from him, Nanami’s disposition had somehow slipped into something even less guarded than how you’d found him when you’d arrived at his apartment, with this nasty cold having peeled that careful polish you were accustomed to away.

It was a degree of comfort that rested above the novelty presented by the recent evolution of your relationship, which took you from mere colleagues, to good friends, to the kind of intimacy that now found you standing in Nanami’s kitchen to prepare a family recipe you’ve long associated with soothing the most unrelenting of colds, in the hopes of helping fight the one currently afflicting him.

Whatever it was, it found him like this—slouched on the chaise portion of the L-shaped couch into which he’d just settled, under a thick blanket.

The faded t-shirt and loose sweatpants he wore gave him a startlingly casual allure, even for what you knew him to wear at home. His collar sat slightly askew, with one sleeve rolled higher than the other. A slight fever had painted a stubborn flush across his cheeks, and golden strands disheveled by sleep and restless hands fell over where his tired eyes peered over the rims of his reading glasses.

When Nanami’s eyes finally found yours, you found his expression to be softened, his gaze holding a raw, unvarnished quality, stripped of any pretense, vulnerable in every minute wince, in each sleepy blink, and with each sniffle escaping him uninhibited.

It only made him more charming, even more so as the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled, and he finally responded.

“No, I’m fine here.”

“It might be more comfortable if you just—”

“I’m comfortable here,” he maintained. “The truth is, I’ve been stuck between the same four walls for two days, so this change of scenery does me a world of good.” He paused, his lips shifting into a slow, knowing smile. “Besides, I like the view I have here now.”

As the compliment landed, a wave of warmth bloomed beneath your skin, catching you by surprise.

You were still acclimating to your newfound closeness to Nanami, still getting used to having inhibitions organically fade between you, particularly during private moments like this.

“Okay, if you say so,” you said, averting your gaze to his empty cup of tea on the coffee table, but not before catching his sly smile.

At least he seemed to be in slightly better shape than an hour ago.

Nanami had tried, fruitlessly so, to convince you not to intervene and risk catching his cold while he was still recovering. But a deep-seated certainty, as strong as the unwavering resolve in your voice, assured him that once you sensed the congestion he’d failed to hide on the phone, he’d be unable to convince you otherwise.

Sure enough, less than an hour later, you turned up at his door, equipped with a few ingredients and a care package you threw together to help him get through the worst of it.

Now here you were, taking notice of the teapot that sat on the coffee table, its lid discarded next to the book from which Nanami had yet to read, and its contents long gone. You crouched down to gather it along with his cup to prepare another tea.

“I’ll refill this for you. When did you last take the cold tablets?”

“The yellow pills, daytime.”

You paused to register and decode Nanami’s reply.

“Yes, the daytime pills, but when did you take them?”

Kento slowly blinked back at you, as if deciphering your question.

“Ah, around ten thirty, just before you got here,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “Sorry, I’m a little out of it,” he added with a nervous laugh, which you couldn’t help but mirror.

“No worries,” you said with a quick glance at your watch, “Alright, so just under an hour… How was your fever this morning? Did you take your temperature?”

“It was not bad.”

“‘Not bad’ isn’t a temperature, Kento.”

“I know it isn’t…” he trailed off with another nervous laugh.

“What are your worst symptoms now? Help me out here, how are you actually feeling? ”

Nanami suppressed a cough as if on cue, wincing before he offered a sheepish smile. “Better, now that you’re here. Though I do feel a bit guilty about that.”

His flushed face gained an even deeper allure, with a rosy tint spreading across his cheeks as he rubbed tiredly at the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“I won’t have it, Kento. That’s what I’m here for. And I want to be here.”

As your eyes met again, a subtle spark of amusement danced in his eyes, betraying nothing of his thoughts.

“Wait…What is it?” you cautiously asked.

“So you don’t think any less of me now that you’ve seen all this?” he asked as he extricated his arm with a rustle of the blanket and gestured vaguely towards himself and the space he’d claimed.

“You’re human, Nanami Kento. You know that, right? That it’s normal for humans to get sick sometimes? Even when they’re badass Grade 1 sorcerers?”

“Oh, good, she still thinks I’m badass,” Nanami said as he closed his eyes, a relaxed and liberated mirth escaping his lips.

Yet another unguarded moment that tickled you.

“Wow, I didn’t think you had such a vain side to you,” you stated with an air of feigned astonishment.

As you pushed yourself back onto your feet, you watched as Nanami brought a hand up to his hair, disheveling it further than it already was.

“I do have a vain side. It’s why I took that hair serum of yours with me the other day,” he said, his laugh only continuing.

Nanami’s words caused you to halt mid-motion, and were it not for the mischievously expectant gleam in his eyes as they met yours, you would have convinced yourself that you’d misheard him. He spoke again before you could react.

“I intended to return it before the week was out, but my immune system clearly had other plans,” he casually added.

“Kento… You stole my serum? The castor oil one?”

“I borrowed a flask. You did say you just stocked up. Your first mistake was putting that luxurious thing in my hair. I’ve never had such soft hair in my life. Smelling like, what was it you said, baobab?”

You let out a scoffing laugh as you processed what you were hearing.

“You know, this practically sounds like you stole my serum and are somehow blaming me for it…” you remarked as you finally rose the rest of the distance back to your feet, now towering over him.

At your newly assumed position, Nanami stopped running his hand through his hair and peered up at you.

He gave you a deliberate, lingering look, scrutinizing you as if he’d never seen you before. His eyes slowly traveled upwards, beginning at the cinched belt of your dress, tracing the line of detailed buttons all the way to your neck, and then finally settling on your face.

“This dress really suits you,” he murmured.

“I—thank you…”

“Is it new?”

“It’s new-ish… I bought it some time ago but never got the chance to wear it,” you cut off as you crossed your arms. “Hey. Don’t think you’ll be dodging this thievery business with flattery, sir.”

“You wore a new outfit to come see me, and I’m sitting here looking like this…”

As you observed Nanami’s lips twist into something approaching a proper pout, you wondered whether it was his fever haze, the loopy side effects of his medicine, or some diabolical third other thing that had rendered him in such rare form.

You laughed at his reaction, because whatever it was, you certainly didn’t hate it.

“I’d sooner judge that non-breakfast you told me you had. With your crackers and canned what was it?”

“Coughing and muscle aches.”

“Excuse me?”

“Those are the symptoms you asked about.”

It took you a moment to realize that he was answering your question from earlier in the exchange, to register how chaotically comedic this conversation was going.

You gave an amused scoff as you watched him avert your gaze and pretend to be engrossed in the book he had yet to open since you walked in.

He was messing with you. He had to be. You saw what this was now.

“Alright, since you have enough energy to be in such rare form, Nanami-san,” you said as you turned your back and crossed the distance to the counter towards one of the bags you brought along with you, before fishing a small container you were now happy to have acquired on the quick pharmacy run you made before coming here.

You found Nanami carefully watching you as you approached him once more, hazel lucidity pooling like honey in his irises as you casually settled astride his lap, bracing your knees on either side of him, causing this new-ish dress of yours to ride up, just enough to capture his attention and have him linger there for a short but no less noticed moment.

You smiled at this, keeping one hand tucked behind your back, fingers curled around the instrument of your small scheme. Only once he finally met your gaze did you speak again.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Pardon me?” It was his turn to let out a baffling laugh.

“You heard me,” you said, tone and expression all mischief as you leaned in by fractions. You gently pulled his readers off his face, placing them on the sofa’s arm before planting your hand by his face to brace yourself, all without averting your gaze.

“I’m more than likely contagious, love. This isn’t wise…” he murmured, his voice lacking conviction as his hands, warm and familiar, settled on your hips.

You let a lingering moment pass before you extended your hidden hand, maneuvering it into the narrow gap between you to reveal a tiny jar of VapoRub.

“Relieves coughing and muscle aches, just as you need. I’ll apply it for you, but you’ll have to take your shirt off first.”

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, his demeanor seemed to ease.

You shifted your weight backward to allow him the room to do as instructed. Kento worked to remove his shirt and undershirt while you opened the small tub, and the unexpectedly loud pop of its lid emphasized the peaceful quiet between you, punctuated by the soft simmering sound of your soup in the background.

With your fingers, you carefully gathered a small amount of the mentholated balm, feeling it warm against your fingertips as you lifted your gaze to find his. You were so close now, close enough to take in the light layer of overnight stubble that had emerged along his jawline, granting him a rugged edge that softened his sharp lines.

There was no confusion, no drug-induced haze in his eyes anymore. As you fixed him, taking in this rare display of earnest vulnerability, your own words echoed in your mind.

You know you’re human, right, Nanami?

When you'd asked that question, it was both rhetorical and tongue-in-cheek, but as you watched Nanami Kento now, as he slowly lowered a certain wall you hadn’t realized him to hold until this very moment, all you wanted was to drill the statement into his mind until he truly accepted it.

Your lips must have inadvertently tugged into a smile because you found Nanami cautiously mirroring it before he spoke, his voice low.

“What are you scheming now?”

“No scheming. Not at the moment, at least,” you replied as you slowly reached for him, bringing your finger to the center of his chest, feeling it yield to the warmth of his skin, cooling as it slowly absorbed. With your palm flattened against him, you traced a path from his sternum outwards, continuously gauging his expression for any discomfort.

The contrast of your cool touch over his untouched surfaces made Nanami twitch ever so slightly on contact, so you went light and careful, taking in the shape of him as you applied the ointment in measured strokes, slow enough to be gentle, firm enough to create the friction needed to maximize the treatment’s effect.

By now, the scent of menthol had dominantly taken over, tickling slightly at your eyes, but still you remained focused and unhurried, reapplying enough product to allow for a thick layer to form on Nanami’s chest, as he sat back, gradually relaxing under your touch as he quietly watched you.

You worked your way up to the base of his throat, where your touch lightened further, and you slowed the further up you moved. Nanami tilted his head just far enough to grant you better access, but not so far that he couldn’t keep his gaze on you.

“I like this…” he breathed out, his umpteenth confession of the morning, perhaps his most sincere.

“You like being sick?” you teased, playfully peering at him to gauge his reaction.

To this, Nanami chuckled and momentarily closed his eyes, as if to contemplate his response.

“If that’s what it takes…” he trailed off.

“You know it’s not.”

“I know, I know…”

An easy silence found you once more, and you continued like this for a while, watching him more than your own movements, adjusting instinctively to every small twitch, to every shifting breath of his.

“I like this too,” you heard yourself say, the words slipping out after a moment. “I know you’re trying to make light of all this, and that you don’t want me to worry. But let me worry sometimes.”

Let me take care of you sometimes.

The last portion of your reflection would remain unspoken. But as your hand lingered with each pass, as you sought to support the man who was always grounding others, ground himself, to wordlessly but no less sincerely convey through your acts that he wasn’t alone in carrying any of his burdens, big or small.

Once you were done, you didn’t pull away immediately, resting your palm back on his chest again, just over where his pulse felt the strongest, your certain gaze searching his as you allowed for the moment to sink in before finally withdrawing and grabbing a tissue to wipe any excess ointment from your hands.

When you reached for his shirt, Kento moved to lift his arms unprompted, allowing you to slip his shirt back on, carefully easing it over his body so as not to smear the product out of place.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his hands moving to your hips once more as you readjusted to lean towards him and gently pressed your lips to his forehead, finally pulling back with a smile.

“I’m here, so rest up, big guy. The soup will be done in a bit. I’ll bring some more tea.”

“Can I ask you something?” His eyebrows drew together in a furrow of uncertainty.

“Anything.”

“Can you bring that serum over from the bathroom? Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I think I could use some just about now…”

[kiritsap]

ah, nanamin...

[dredgen-dumbass]

Betcha I can still kick ass on this thing even though I cant read jack shit