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WARNINGS: Angst. Enough of it.
HE WALKS WITH the rage of a storm in his wake. You can only follow with downcast eyes, afraid of the harsh yet perfectly justifiable rebukes that will come from this man. He knows how to hit it where it hurts.
His anger is a fault of your own miscalculation. A curse had shown up in Central Tokyo. You had dashed ahead of him upon arriving at the scene, trying to reach a woman who was about to fall into the hungry mouth of the curse, and had nearly gotten your skull cracked open like a split egg when the curse's companion dove right into you as you jumped into the air.
Nanami remembers how... how still you'd looked then. You did not look like you would ever move again.
Your eyes were closed, then. Face so calm he could almost believe you were asleep. For a split second he was fully convinced the curse had stolen your life.
And he'd stopped breathing, just as he thought you had.
It had taken one large, somehow angry arc of a swing from him to kill both curses. He did not even to check to confirm the kills. All he could see was you.
Ieiri has been able to patch you up since then. But nothing will ever rid Nanami of the fear he felt then. The image of you bleeding out on the ground while he stood there, helpless as he thought that the one he has always loved but never told had died.
You follow him now. He hasn't talked to you in days. It is so unlike the relationship you'd formed previous. He is a cold man now.
"Kento," you call. Desperate to talk to him. "Um, did you hear about the new student Gojo picked up a few days ago? Crazy how... how that kid's Sukuna's vessel now."
A laugh forces itself from your throat. He does not respond, only continues making his way across the hall. You trail behind him. Hoping with all hope that he would just say something.
You really don't even know why it is he's so... mad. You might have made a potentially fatal miscalculation during that mission, but you were here now, alive and now feeling well enough. If he just thought you were too stupid to be in his company, well, that couldn't be your fault.
"Kento, please talk to me. Did I do something?"
He goes still. Stops walking. But he still doesn't look at you.
"Kento?"
"Are you aware that the decision you made during that mission could have cost you your life?"
So it still is about the mission. Anger bubbles in your chest. Red-hot and fiery.
"I did everything I was supposed to, Kento. I'm still alive aren't I? And I was able to save that woman—"
"What would that matter if you had died?"
You freeze.
"You could have died, (Y/N)," he whispers your name. Faces you with sorrow in his almond eyes. "What do you think I would have done then?"
He takes a step towards you. An apology rises on your tongue but there is a sadness so prominent on his crestfallen countenance you remain riveted to the spot. When he touches you you can feel the fear inside him, the fear that the touch exchanged when he offered you that cup of coffee earlier that day could have been, would have been the last. He would never have gotten to explore the taste of you, how his name would feel like on your mouth when kissing you. How a smile on your lips would feel on his.
His hand closes around yours. It is the first intimate touch he has ever shared with you. You look up at him with a twisted frown, reflecting the same fear he feels at this new level of closeness. This foreign level of intimacy. He's never held someone's hand like this before. Never held anyone like this before.
"I'm... I'm sorry," you whisper, averting your gaze. Your heart stutters in your chest as he tilts your chin back upward.
"I never would have gotten to look at you like this if..." he trails off, his face only inches from yours. He sees realization dawn in your beautiful eyes.
"You...?"
"I do," he says. "If I did not, then I would not be so wroth with you."
"That's... not very logical of you, Kento."
"How do you expect me to be logical around you?"
I love you, that's why.
"Oh." You grow shy. Another epiphany hits you. "Oh."
"I am sorry for acting so frigid around you. Seeing you that way just..."
He looks away from you now. Your courage returns, and you cup his cheek in a gentle hand.
It is the second most intimate touch he has ever shared with you.
"I'm sorry, Kento." You trace the sharp outline of his cheekbone with a thumb. "I didn't know."
Though now you understand all the implications your death could have filled his mind with.
"I must confess something, (Y/N)."
You try not to predict what it is he wants to tell you. But from the look in his eyes, you know. Even when he had already professed this earlier. You want to hear him say it. Just as much as he wants to say it to you.
"I am in love with you," he says with his face in your hand. "And if I were to die tomorrow, or today, then I would like to go knowing you feel the same way.
