What was supposed to be a tender skin-to-skin contact ends with your daughter trying to breastfeed from Kento...
✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ ⎯⎯ ✦
It’s hot.
That heavy summer heat where even the walls seem to sweat.
Nanami is sitting on the couch, shirtless for the first time in weeks. Rei, tiny and warm, is lying against his bare chest. Skin to skin. He had read that “skin to skin” strengthens bonding, regulates the baby’s temperature, stabilizes breathing.
So there he is.
A serious 27-year-old salaryman, a book in one hand and a baby resting on his torso as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Rei babbles. Makes small, satisfied sounds. Her little fingers open and close against the firm skin of her father’s chest.
Nanami lowers his gaze every so often, making sure she’s comfortable.
Everything is calm. Until it isn’t.
Rei starts to squirm.
First her legs kick restlessly.
Then she turns her head a little.
Then she makes that tiny sound—half complaint, half instinctive searching.
Nanami’s brow furrows slightly.
“Hm?”
He feels something warm and damp.
He blinks and looks down.
And there it is.
Rei, her little face focused and determined, trying with all the conviction in the world to latch onto his chest. Her tiny mouth attempting to suckle.
Absolute silence. Nanami blinks once. Twice.
He looks at his own torso, then back at her.
And then… that small smile appears. The one only you know well.
In a low, calm voice, almost amused, he murmurs:
“Someone's hungry, huh? I’m sorry, sweetheart… only your mother has those.”
Rei pauses and looks at him with that confused, hungry baby expression that doesn’t understand why the universe isn’t cooperating.
She makes a small protesting sound.
Nanami sighs softly, sets the book aside, and carefully lifts her.
“I believe we’re addressing the wrong supplier.”
He holds her against his shoulder, giving her gentle pats on the back.
You walk in from the kitchen at the sound of his voice. “What happened?”
Nanami looks at you with perfect composure.
“Your daughter attempted negotiations with me.”
Rei starts rooting again, insistently. It takes you half a second to understand.
Then you cover your mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.
Nanami hands her to you carefully.
“She needs you more than me at the moment.”
But before fully letting go, he leans down and kisses the top of Rei’s head.
“Good attempt.”
As you settle in to feed her, he leans back against the couch again, watching the two of you.
And no matter how impressive his pectorals may be…
Everyone in this house knows who the true and only source of nourishment is.
non-federal holidays meant nothing to nanami kento.
most of them just conveniently landed on weekends anyway—he didn’t even get the luxury of a day off. but this one was proving harder to ignore.
especially when you may or may not have accidentally hyped it up to your daughter.
"happy birthday, papa!" she beamed, patting nanami’s thigh with tiny, enthusiastic hands. her face practically glowed with excitement.
you let out a soft, guilty laugh as nanami glanced over at you, half amused, half bewildered.
still, nanami said nothing, just crouched down to put on his shoes—he’d been called in to work again, "holiday" or not. and, despite the impending schedule, he scooped her up with practiced ease, holding her close.
your daughter’s words tumbled out in excited chaos. she clung to him with all the joy in the world, her little fingers finding his sleeves, his shoulders, and finally cupping his cheeks like she was holding the most precious thing on earth.
"papa's day means we have big cake!" she declared. "and we go get your gift and—"
nanami blinked, startled. it clicked.
you did tell her earlier, “it’s papa’s day today,” hoping to gently introduce her to the idea of father’s day. apparently, that translated to: birthday.
his heart cracked a little as he realized the misunderstanding. he softened his voice. “sweetheart… i’m so sorry. it’s not papa’s birthday.”
she stopped mid-sentence, her brows pulling together, trying to process his words.
you stepped in, brushing her hair back softly as you rubbed her back. “it’s father’s day, baby,” you whispered in her ear. “you tell papa thank you for being your papa.”
a moment passed. then her expression lit up with understanding. she turned, wrapped her little arms tightly around nanami’s neck, and whispered, “thank you for being the best papa in the world.”
she nestled into his shoulder, holding him like she never wanted to let go.
“i’m sorry it’s not your birthday, papa,” she mumbled into his collar. “maybe next time?”
nanami’s chest shook with quiet laughter as he held her tighter, his eyes meeting yours over her shoulder. they softened.
he reached out one arm toward you, the unspoken invitation impossible to resist.
you stepped into it, the three of you fitting together like a habit.
and in that moment, nanami decided—maybe this was a holiday worth staying for.
after all, who was he to say no to being celebrated by the two people he loved most?
"Shit," Kento hissed to himself, braced on his elbows and leaning over on his knees, at the edge of the sofa. He sucked a bead of blood off the pad of his thumb, grumbling.
On his lap lay his blade; beside him, a trail of inkspotted white bandage, carefully uncoiled and recoiled into a ribbon. It's ancient, you thought; and your stomach lurched, as though Kento had snuck into a museum to unravel a mummy.
You padded towards him, all pyjamas and bare legs, before setting a coffee down upon the table.
"What's wrong?"
"It's getting sharp again. My blade."
You blinked. You paused. "That's...a problem?"
"It's a blunt blade. It is supposed to be blunt." At your bewilderment, Kento sighed, leaning back, and rubbing his jaw, before eyeing his blade mulishly. "It's cursed. It sharpens with overuse; it does not blunt. So every now and then, it needs...blunting. Or it's not as effective."
"You have a method for that, I assume?"
"I do. Or-- I did. First it was Haibara. Then, Gojo. But Gojo is away, so..."
You blinked again. You frowned. "I don't follow."
Kento didn't elaborate. Instead, he pulled out his phone, and dialed, and waited with it against his ear. Your frown only deepened when he finally spoke.
"Yuuji," Kento hummed. "I have a favour to ask. If you wouldn't mind."
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It was a strange scene to watch. You didn't say a word as the exchange (of instructions and weapon) took place before you.
"Now, you must take very good care of it," Kento ordered, his hands grasping Yuuji's, which grasped the spotted blunt-- sharp-- blade. Yuuji looked terrified; but determined. Imbued with divine purpose. "I'll be away for a few days."
"I-- I will," Yuuji stuttered, clasping the blade to his chest and crying out as it threatened to slide from his grasp. Kento did not react as you did, your mouth pulling tight in horror as you reached out to catch the weapon. Kento held you back with one raised palm as Yuuji continued. "I...I can't believe you'd trust me with it, Nanamin."
"I would trust no-one else, Yuuji."
Yuuji looked as though he might cry. His lower lip drew up, and he grasped the blade like it was a newborn. "I won't let you down, Nanamin."
"Good. I'll call you in a few days."
"It...it doesn't need a case?"
"No. It's better without."
Yuuji walked away. You gave Kento a side-eye, faint with horror.
"Kento, you...are you sure? I mean, I love him, too, but don't you think he's a bit--"
You heard a metal CLANK! You saw the blunt blade slipping from Yuuji's arms to tumble down the steps beneath the torii gates. You could have wept, finishing with a sigh. "...a bit clumsy."
"I'm counting on it," Kento smiled, watching fondly as Yuuji sprinted down to the spotted blade, cursing and looking left and right to check for witnesses.
"I'm...sorry?"
"He'll have trouble with it," Kento hummed, watching as Yuuji struggled to keep the blade balanced within his grasp. "It doesn't like being sharp. And it likes to help itself along the way."
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For two days, Kento and you suppressed your cursed energy, and followed Yuuji around every single corner.
Yuuji would slide the blunt blade into his backpack. His backpack would immediately tear open at the bottom, and the blunt blade would clang its way down a whole flight of stairs.
Yuuji would twirl it absentmindedly, lose his grip, and his soul would leave his body as the blunt blade clattered out of an open window that absolutely was not open before.
Yuuji would take it to bed with him, cradled in his arms in a swaddle, and would achieve little more than a completely sleepless night, as the blade slipped to the floor every five minutes on the dot.
The blunt blade would be left, growing duller by the minute, in the middle of a completely empty room upon a silk pillow, and by the time Yuuji returned, a pipe would have burst above it and water and sawdust would be seeping into its rough ferrous surface.
It was an impossible object; a veritable bastard of a piece of equipment, seeking to plunge and plummet and pummel every surface it could, until it was stained and ragged and chipped, and duller than a wet weekend. You got used to Yuuji's cries and shouts and roars of despair.
"This is cruel, Kento," you tutted, as Yuuji begged and pleaded with the blunt blade on his hands and knees ('How? How could this happen? I left you right there-- I left you right there! I'm so fucking clumsy, Nanamin's gonna kill me!').
Kento hummed to himself, satisfied. He checked his watch. "You're right. That should do it."
He pulled out his phone again. Ring-ring. Ring-ring. Click--
"Yuuji. I'm home. You have my blade?"
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"You took good care of it?"
"Uh-- y-yeah-- the best."
Kento stroked a finger along the (damp, dirty, chipped) blade's edge. You watched Yuuji sweat. Kento smiled.
"I can tell. Thank you, Yuuji."
Yuuji visibly relaxed. Still, his heart seemed to have aged a decade. He staggered off towards the dorms as Kento twizzled his blade in his hands, satisfied. You grimaced at it; an antique, irreparably battered, and most importantly, blunt.
"He has absolutely ruined that, Kento."
"I know. Isn't it wonderful? He's even worse than Haibara was. Extraordinary."
Kento cleared his throat, and checked his watch again. He turned and made towards his car, with a spring in his step.
"Come along, my love. We should take the country roads back. I'll tie it to the towbar and drag it home, for good measure."
To most, Kento Nanami was what you could call a workaholic, constantly filing Gojo’s paperwork, taking up long missions, and all around a dependable sorcerer.
That was until your daughter came along. Now, all of a sudden, Kento Nanami didn't have time to do paperwork, or take up last minute missions, he barely even went overtime on most days too!
Nanami preferred to spend his days with his baby girl, whether that was teaching her how to read, taking her to the park, or even playing tea party with her.
Whenever you left for work, Nanami and your daughter would sneak off to the shops to pick up whatever cookies, cupcakes, or mochi she wanted for the tea party. He even made sure to buy different varieties of flavoured milk as ‘tea.’ By the time you came home each day, everything would be cleaned and wiped down so you'd never suspect that your oh-so sensible husband was playing dress up while feeding your six-year-old sugar daily.
Until today…
Your shift had ended earlier than usual, so you had decided to surprise your husband and daughter, stealthily entering the house and sneaking over to her playroom. As you nudged the door open, the scene in front of you was almost baffling.
Nanami knelt in front of your daughter's pink play table, while she sat in a tiny matching pink chair across from him. She had been put in a poofy, blue princess dress, colourful plastic jewellery decorated her arms and neck, and a pretty tiara sat on her head. Nanami was dressed in a white suit with a blue tie that seemed to match her dress, and on his blonde head, another tiny tiara sat.
You stifled a laugh as you watched their tea party unfold. “Would you like some more tea, Papa the Princess Mermaid?” She grinned, shakily holding an extravagant toy teapot over her tiny teacups. Nanami nodded, “I would enjoy a second helping, Your Highness.”
Although you couldn't see his face, you could practically hear the soft smile in his voice. Your daughter clumsily poured what seemed to be chocolate milk into her fathers teacup, before moving to refill her own, spilling a little while doing so.
The two of them raised their cups, pinkies up and out as they clinked the plastic cups together.
This time you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you. The two of them whipped their heads towards the door at the sound, Nanami almost spilling his chocolate milk while doing so. “Honey? You're home early,” he smiled, weary of your reaction to the numerous cupcakes sitting on the table.
“Mhm, work was slow so I was able to leave earlier. What're you two up to?” You questioned as you walked into the room, plopping down beside your daughter and pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Mama!” She squealed, clinging to your side, “Me and papa are having a tea party again!” She happily pointed to the table, which was littered with finger sandwiches, cupcakes, and spilt milk. You hummed, “Is this what you two get up to when I’m away?” Flashing a teasing smirk at your husband, whose face now matched the colour of the table.
He cleared his throat before speaking up, “Well, now that you're here you have to join in.” Nanami smirked, gesturing for you to grab a teacup. “Wait no! Mama needs to be dressed like a queen first,” your daughter shrieked, standing up and dragging you over to her too-large child's vanity.
Now all three of you surrounded the table, you were given a matching tiara, too much plastic jewellery, and enough children makeup to make you look like a very sparkly clown. Nanami had to hide his mouth behind his hand to conceal his grin at your state. “You look ravishing,” he mused.
“Shut up, Ken.”
a/n: super duper short because I never actually write for Nanami and idk his character too well :c
“kento, my love,” you try to hold back a laugh, resting your hand delicately on his shoulder. you really do try.
nanami has been on edge ever since Satoru Gojo's eldest son, saviri, stepped foot onto your patio.
not because he doesn't like the kid—if anything, kento's been weirdly tolerant of saviri over the years. maybe even more than he tolerates gojo himself. but that tolerance went up in flames the second saviri sat next to your daughter on a pool lounger and casually rested his hand on her knee.
kento hasn't blinked since.
he had been inventing excuses to walk past them every five minutes like some sunburned, poolside secret agent. at one point, he tripped over the garden hose just to interrupt their conversation.
and everyone was laughing at kento like he was crazy.
but the truth is : he did not invite the gojo family to his daughter's 17 birthday bash just to witness that insufferably shirtless boy flirt with his precious girl.
“she's a grown girl now,” you say gently, hopping up onto the kitchen counter next to his abandoned beer. His forearms are flexing where they grip the edge—eyes locked on the pool, laser-focused on saviri.
“she's not,” he snaps, a vein flexing along his jaw. “she's my little baby.”
you hum, biting back another smile as you steal a sip of his beer.
the thing is, kento had been fine with her adolescent chaos. he took it like a champ—the loud music, the mismatched hair colors, the time she said she wanted a nipple piercing. hell, he even nodded like it was normal when she came home with a tiny tattoo just above her hip.
“i'm going to kill him.” nanami's eye twitch.
“no you're not,” you reply sweetly, a little lovesick by how protective he is. “you're going to smile, pretend you're fine, and then maybe glare at him slightly less murderously when we cut the cake.”
“i should've invited yuji. yuji wouldn't flirt with her.”
“you paid yuji to stop calling you ‘dad’ every time he walks in the door.”
he doesn't answer. only hums darkly and gives your upper thigh a little squeeze. “mission one : in progress," he mutters under his breath. "see you later, love.”
before you can even ask, he's already marching across the patio, preparing himself as if he's about to fight some upper class S-grade curses.. except, this time, the enemy is 21-year-old with floppy hair and six-pack.
as nanami approaches, he hears a glimpse of their conversation. “—I don't know,” saviri's saying with a low chuckle, “I always liked how you wear your hair up like that. shows off your—”
“saviri,” your husband's voice is pleasant, too pleasant, when he slides onto the lounge chair beside them. the way a normal man absolutely would not. “you look warm. do you need a towel?”
“uh-oh, no, i'm good, thanks… nanami-san.”
“hmm.” nanami reaches over and with the softest, most fatherly gesture in human history, gently lifts saviri's hand off his daughter's leg and sets it aside.
“dad,” she says slowly, squinting at him. “we're literally just talking.”
saviri leans back on his elbows, his skin tanner than his dad could ever be—earning this from his mom. “so, nanami-san,” he says with the exact same annoyingly charming smile satoru has. “do you work out, or is that just all residual cursed energy stress?”
nanami stays as rigid as a statue, arms crossed and sunglasses pushing his blond strands back. “do you want to be buried in the shallow end or the deep end?”
your daughter groans, dragging her hands down her face. “daaaaad”
saviri only laughs as nanami's legs stretch out slightly—a clear boundary line between his daughter and him. “i'm just saying you look good for your age. i hope i'm that fit when i'm, what, fifty?”
“i'm forty-five.”
“oh, wow. and you're not even grumpy !”
nanami exhales slowly. “saviri,” he says carefully, “are you flirting with me?”
saviri smirks, tilting his head innocently. “i mean… your daughter says i’m too flirty, so i thought i’d diversify.”
you can hear gojo wheezing in the distance. nanami’s knuckles go white on the armrest.
“i’m going to get more drinks,” your daughter mutters, standing abruptly, grabbing her towel. her cheeks are a little pink “saviri, come with me—”
“oh no,” your husband cuts in, voice sharp but still polite, the way one talks to an aggressive raccoon. “he’s fine here.”
“dad.”
“sweetheart.”
there's a deadly beat of eye contact. she throws him a look that promises revenge in the form of emotional manipulation, then stomps off toward the cooler with an exaggerated sigh.
“hypothetically speaking…” saviri says, turning his head casually. “how old would she need to be before you stop trying to assassinate me with your eyes?”
“hypothetically?”
“mm-hmmm”
“dead you'd have to be dead.”
saviri nods thoughtfully, still smirking. and kento doesn't miss how is blue vivid eyes follow your daughter's steps. “cool, cool. just gauging the timeline.”
nanami rubs the bridge of his nose like he's aged ten years in ten minutes before looking at gojo's son.
dad!nanami who met you through the strangest of circumstances
dad!nanami who was a practical man. the most practical of men, probably. he always had a suit pressed and ready the night before with a matching tie. his shoes were never creased. all his coworkers envied the quiet of his life.
dad!nanami whose life was anything but quiet, actually. being a single dad was not for the weak. no one would know, but underneath the ironed perfection of his suit was a wrinkled mess because his daughter decided to throw up her milk on him that morning.
dad!nanami who was somehow making it without a babysitter. her mom left her when she was born. two months later, he couldn't say no. so now satoru gojo, the man who got him into this mess, takes care of the girl during the day.
dad!nanami who presumed that she would just live with him and see satoru as her real dad. it worked the exact opposite. about three times a day he would get a call with his daughter crying for her papa to come back home because she missed him. that's what satoru said, anyways. when he found the time to become a baby translator? only god knew.
dad!nanami who grew fond of it. but satoru was a busy man, even if he pretended like he had all the time in the world. and satoru wasn't a woman, which was yet another one of his predicaments.
dad!nanami whose daughter squealed into his shoulder, squirming. now, he didn't know why restrooms weren't designed with changing tables. single dads weren't uncommon anymore. then again, very few men were trustworthy these days.
dad!nanami who bounced her on his arm, hesitating outside of the women's bathroom. was anyone inside? would it be weird for him to go inside? but what if someone was in there? would they listen to him if he tried explaining? would his daughter's presence be enough?
dad!nanami who didn't overthink a lot of things. most of the time, if his daughter needed something, he didn't give it another thought. but this was different. he was a gentleman, remember?
dad!nanami who felt a tap on his other shoulder. he turned.
"sir? i noticed you've been standing outside for a while."
"oh. yes."
"... well, are you waiting for someone?"
"not quite. my daughter needs her diaper changed."
"aw, what a cutie! is your wife with you?"
"... no."
"tell you what, i'll take her inside and get her changed for you."
"i'm not sure---"
"i know, i know. but you can't go in there yourself, can you?"
"i suppose not."
"just give me her bag and i'll take care of it."
dad!nanami who pursed his lips and reluctantly handed his daughter over to you. he wasn't going to judge just off of a first look, but you didn't look dangerous. there was a grin on your face as you cooed at his daughter, making her giggle on the way inside.
dad!nanami who waited for a few minutes. tapped his shoe. glanced down at his watch. the seconds were stretching by a little too long for his liking. but you came back with his daughter smiling with her tiny arms wrapped around your neck.
dad!nanami who was surprised that she wasn't crying. usually if anyone other than satoru or him held her, she would bawl until she was back in one of their arms.
"she's not usually this quiet."
"she's been such a good girl, hasn't she? yes you have, my little love."
"thank you. for doing that."
"don't mention it. she seems hungry though."
"... how can you tell?"
"she keeps biting my shirt."
"ah. i apologize."
"no, no. i think we should get something to eat too, right? is the little baby hungry? that's right, tell papa you want something to eat."
dad!nanami whose daughter babbled loudly at him, flinging a chubby finger in his general direction. you laughed. he was slightly shocked at how much he liked hearing that laugh.
dad!nanami who relented and bought you pretzels from the food court as his daughter clung to you, bottle in hand, eyes drooping. but she still squealed in protest when you tried handing her back to him.
"guess she likes me better than you, huh?"
"appears so."
"so this little cutie is coming home with me, aren't you, babydoll?"
"you're good at this. do you happen to have kids of your own?"
"nope. grew up with seven little siblings, though."
"wow. i could learn a lot from someone like you."
"is that so? i charge by the hour."
dad!nanami who couldn't tell by the grin curving your face if you were joking or being serious. and honestly, figuring it out was half the fun. you were half the fun. his daughter seemed to think so, too.
"here's my number."
"oh. thanks?"
"in case you'd like to spend more time with her."
"ah. for a second i thought this was you asking me out or something."
"... would you like this to be me asking you out?"
"... i would say yes but i don't even know anything about you. not even your name."
dad!nanami who got to know a lot more about you on the car ride to his house. you were working at the same company as him, apparently, parallel department, even. you just worked from home. even so, you knew and adored all the shitty coffee brands he had grown to love in his time there.
"right? i mean, everyone hates it, but there's just something so---"
"nostalgic?"
"yes! especially when it's just straight black---"
"i never thought i'd meet someone who appreciated black coffee."
"are you mocking me?"
"no, no, not at all. i simply meant---"
"i'm messing with you, nanami. chill."
"please, call me kento."
"your business card insists that i call you mr. nanami---"
"how did you get that?"
"there's like, seventy of them in your daughter's onsie pocket."
"that's just insurance. in case someone kidnaps her."
"that girl hangs onto you like a leech. nobody is taking her from you, ken."
"that's what i thought as well. until you came along."
"well, what can i say? nobody can resist my charm."
dad!nanami who couldn't really argue with that, since this was the first time he had brought a girl home in... well... how long had it been? that was irrelevant information.
dad!nanami who saw the true point---you were a perfect mother. his daughter fit perfectly on your hip. you were the perfect candidate. now all he had to do was convince you to actually agree to it.
"you want me to... what?"
"you work from home, correct?"
"yeah."
"and my daughter clearly has taken a liking to you."
"... also yeah."
"so theoretically the best course of action is to---"
"woah, woah. slow down, ken. i just met you."
"... you're right. i shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."
"hold on. i didn't say no. what's the food situation around here?"
dad!nanami who knew, safe to say, that you weren't going anywhere. and for the next month, his phone buzzed still, but only with complaints from satoru about being replaced and confirmation texts from you that everything was going great.
dad!nanami who knew even after just a week that this would be perfect. his daughter was happy. you were happy. he was even getting strange looks at the office when he smiled down at his phone at another picture you would send from home.
dad!nanami who paused at the thought. home. it was your home now, too. the thought made him smile a little harder. someone whispered in the cubicle next to him. he caught his name and the word girlfriend. his thoughts buzzed out after that.
dad!nanami who decided that he would ask you out the right way. after work, he went to the flower shop and bought a spray of ambrosia in your favorite color. he picked up your favorite dessert.
dad!nanami who couldn't believe how whipped he was after just a month. had he really memorized everything about you? you looked just as baffled when you opened the door, smile twisting with bashfulness at you dipped your eyes to the items cradled in his arms.
"ken, what's all this?"
"i thought... since... you've been here... oh. i'm not sure how to say this."
"are you asking me out again?"
"you rejected me the first time, if i recall properly."
"i wasn't about to go on a date with a man i didn't know! what, do i look like anna from frozen?"
"i rest my case. will you be my girlfriend?"
"well, you did buy me food. and my favorite flowers. i guess i have no choice but to say yes."
"if you feel coerced into this, i may as well just give these to satoru---"
"hell no! that would be a waste. he scarfs down food like a pig."
dad!nanami who grinned as satoru glared at you through his window of the neighboring house, shouting that he ate like a refined gentleman. a lie, if he had heard anything. he could never take satoru to fine dine without laying down strict rules like a dog owner.
dad!nanami who pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles. your daughter squealed and clapped in her highchair, like she knew what had just happened. she most likely didn't.
dad!nanami who knew you definitely weren't going anywhere. especially not a year later with a ring on your finger and a round stomach with a baby boy on the way.
a/n: think of this as me kissing you before i stab you. oops. did i spoil my surprise? nobody reads these i'll be fine. likes and comments always appreciated! love ya <3
