I Love Nanami Kento - Blog Posts

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 9 - Under a Starlit Veil

Summary: Kento Nanami was perfect—disciplined, untouchable, and entirely focused on his future. Emotions didn’t fit into his plans. You were everything he avoided—bold, warm, and impossible to ignore. You told yourself he didn’t matter, but you couldn’t stop watching him.

He never looked your way. Not until the day his perfectly controlled world unraveled, and you were at the center of it.

an: I’m so sorry y’all… SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 8} ; {next}

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

Nanami adjusted the cuff of his suit jacket as he stood near the grand entrance of the event hall. The soft hum of conversations and the distant clink of glasses drifted out through the open doors, but he stayed just outside, avoiding the chaos of introductions and small talk. His eyes scanned the arriving guests, his expression calm but distant, until movement at the bottom of the staircase caught his attention.

You stepped out of the car in a gown that seemed to catch the light in all the right places, the fabric shimmering as you moved. There was an ease to your steps, confidence in the way you carried yourself that drew attention without you even trying. Nanami’s usual stoic demeanor faltered as his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than he intended.

When you finally spotted him, a smile spread across your face, and you made your way up the steps toward him. “Wow,” you said as you stopped in front of him, your tone light and teasing. “Waiting for me already? I didn’t know you’d miss me that much.”

His brow raised slightly, but there was a faint flicker of amusement in his gaze. “You’re late.”

“And you look amazing,” you countered, ignoring his comment. “Though I guess that’s nothing new.”

For a second, he hesitated, then said, “You look stunning.” His voice was calm and measured, but the sincerity was unmistakable.

You grinned. “Careful, Nanami. If you keep complimenting me, I might get used to it.”

“Don’t count on it,” he replied dryly, but there was a faint trace of softness in his tone.

Looping your arm through his, you gave him a quick glance. “Come on, partner. Let’s go show these people how it’s done.”

Together, you walked into the grand hall, the golden light of chandeliers illuminating the elegantly decorated space. The room was filled with influential guests, all dressed to the nines, their conversations blending into a hum of polished sophistication.

The two of you navigated the crowd with practiced ease, moving from group to group. You were the conversationalist, effortlessly charming everyone you spoke to, while Nanami maintained his reserved composure.

At one point, you found yourself speaking with a prominent philanthropist and his wife. The man looked between you and Nanami, his smile warm. “You two make quite the pair,” he said.

You laughed lightly, nudging Nanami with your elbow. “Don’t we? He’s the serious one; I’m the fun one. Perfect balance.”

Nanami shot you a brief look but said nothing, his lips pressed into a thin line that might have been suppressing a smirk.

“And what do you think of the event so far?” the man asked, directing his question toward Nanami.

“It’s well-organized,” Nanami replied simply, his tone polite but distant.

You jumped in to soften the answer. “That’s his way of saying it’s great. He’s not big on small talk, but he appreciates quality when he sees it.”

The couple chuckled, and the conversation flowed easily, though Nanami contributed only when absolutely necessary. As the night went on, you continued to draw him into conversations, subtly coaxing him to engage with the guests.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of mingling, you caught sight of a set of French doors leading out to a garden. You turned to Nanami and whispered, “Escape plan?”

He glanced at the doors and nodded, following your lead as you slipped outside.

The garden was quiet, the hum of the event fading into the background. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers, and the stars above stretched endlessly across the night sky. You walked over to a small balcony overlooking the grounds, leaning against the railing and sighing in relief.

“Much better,” you said, glancing at Nanami, who stood a few feet away with his hands in his pockets. “Admit it, you’re glad we came out here.”

“It’s quieter,” he admitted.

You laughed softly. “Exactly. I don’t know how you survived in there without losing your mind.”

“I had you to distract me,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

The comment caught you off guard, and you turned to him with a grin. “Was that a compliment?”

“An observation,” he replied, though there was a flicker of something softer in his gaze.

“Well, either way, I’ll take it,” you said, looking up at the stars. “It’s kind of perfect out here, isn’t it? Like a scene from a movie.”

Nanami’s gaze followed yours to the sky. “It’s… peaceful.”

You studied him for a moment, a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re not as impossible as you like to pretend, you know.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

“Maybe,” you teased, leaning slightly closer. “Or maybe I’m just trying to figure you out. There’s more to you than the whole stoic-law-student thing. I can tell.”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the distance between you seemed to shrink. “And what exactly do you think you see?” he asked quietly.

“Someone who cares more than they let on,” you said, your voice soft. “Someone who probably feels too much but keeps it all bottled up.”

Nanami didn’t respond right away, his expression unreadable. The air between you seemed charged, and the world around you faded into the background.

You tilted your head, your gaze dropping to his lips. Slowly, you leaned in, your heartbeat loud in your ears.

For a brief moment, you thought he might meet you halfway—but then he stepped back abruptly.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

You blinked, stunned. “Nanami, I—”

“I need to go,” he interrupted, his tone steadier now. Without waiting for your response, he turned and walked back toward the hall, leaving you alone under the starlit sky.

The cool night air seemed sharper as you stood there, trying to process what had just happened. Above you, the stars continued to shine, their light indifferent to the moment that had just unraveled beneath them.

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 8 - Fashionably Late, Unforgettably Charming

Summary: Kento Nanami was perfect—disciplined, untouchable, and entirely focused on his future. Emotions didn’t fit into his plans. You were everything he avoided—bold, warm, and impossible to ignore. You told yourself he didn’t matter, but you couldn’t stop watching him.

He never looked your way. Not until the day his perfectly controlled world unraveled, and you were at the center of it.

an: I don’t know if you guys should look forward to the next chapter… SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 7} ; {next}

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 7 - Beyond First Impressions

Summary: Kento Nanami was perfect—disciplined, untouchable, and entirely focused on his future. Emotions didn’t fit into his plans. You were everything he avoided—bold, warm, and impossible to ignore. You told yourself he didn’t matter, but you couldn’t stop watching him.

He never looked your way. Not until the day his perfectly controlled world unraveled, and you were at the center of it.

an: i love them. SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 6} ; {next}

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog @meganbaby

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

Nanami adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves as he glanced at the clock on his desk. It was 9:15 AM, just enough time to leave and make it to the community center by 9:45. Punctuality wasn’t just a habit for him; it was an expectation. He hated being late. Still, a part of him wondered why he had agreed to this at all. Volunteer work was not something he typically did, but when you had asked—so insistent, so sure he’d secretly enjoy it—he found himself unable to say no.

He made his way to the hallway, pulling on his shoes with practiced efficiency. The soft hum of conversation from the kitchen grew louder as his parents noticed him preparing to leave.

“Nanami,” his father’s voice came first, sharp and questioning. “Where are you going?”

“To a food drive,” he replied evenly, not looking up as he tied his laces.

“A food drive?” His mother appeared in the doorway, her arms crossed as she surveyed him. “Why? You’re a law student, not a volunteer coordinator. What purpose does this serve?”

Nanami rose to his full height, meeting her gaze with calm detachment. “Not everything has to serve a purpose.”

His father let out a disapproving scoff. “Time is a resource, Nanami. You’ve always been disciplined about how you use it. Why waste it on something like this?”

“Time spent helping others isn’t wasted,” he replied curtly. His parents were intelligent people, but their view of the world often felt limited, measured in tangible gains rather than intangible impacts.

His mother’s expression softened slightly, though the tension in her tone remained. “It’s just… unexpected. You’ve always been focused on your goals. This seems unnecessary.”

Nanami met her words with silence. There was no point in arguing further. Grabbing his bag, he moved toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”

He left before either of them could respond, his steps steady and purposeful as he made his way to the community center.

The moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. It was a flurry of motion—tables lined with donations, volunteers chatting as they sorted and packed food into neat bags. The noise was different from the usual silence of his library job or the precise discourse of a lecture hall.

And then he saw you. You stood near one of the tables, your face lit with excitement as you waved to him. The smile you wore was bright enough to compete with the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

“You made it!” you said as you walked over, your voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “And on time, too. I’m impressed.”

“I said I’d come,” he replied, his tone steady, though he couldn’t quite ignore the slight warmth in your expression.

“Fair enough,” you said, hands on your hips as you gestured toward the tables. “Come on, we’ve got work to do. Ready to roll up your sleeves?”

He followed you without comment, and soon the two of you were stationed at a table sorting canned goods. It was simple, methodical work—exactly the kind of thing Nanami excelled at. His movements were efficient, his rows of cans stacked neatly.

“You’re pretty fast at this,” you said after a while, glancing at his organized piles compared to your slightly messier one.

“It’s straightforward work,” he replied, his tone dry as he eyed your less-than-perfect stacks. “Unlike yours.”

You gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over your heart. “Are you criticizing my organizational skills?”

“I’m observing,” he said, his smirk barely visible but unmistakably there.

“Careful, Nanami,” you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully. “That almost sounded like a joke.”

“Almost,” he admitted, his voice calm but lighter than usual.

As the minutes turned into hours, Nanami found himself surprisingly at ease. The work, though repetitive, was oddly satisfying. And then there was you—chatty and energetic, your humor keeping the atmosphere light. It wasn’t something he was used to, but he didn’t mind it.

A child approached then, holding a box of cereal. The boy looked up at Nanami with wide, curious eyes, then glanced between the two of you.

“Are you two dating?” the boy asked innocently, his voice cutting through the hum of activity around you.

Nanami froze, his composure momentarily slipping as the question hung in the air.

You, on the other hand, burst out laughing, quickly covering your mouth as you tried to stifle the sound. “No, no, we’re not. But that’s a very sweet question,” you said, your tone warm as you crouched down to meet the boy’s gaze.

The boy shrugged, apparently satisfied, and wandered off, leaving Nanami still standing stiffly.

You straightened up, turning to him with a grin. “Relax,” you said, nudging his arm lightly. “He’s just a kid. You look like you’ve been accused of a crime.”

He exhaled slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. “He caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“Noted,” you replied, your grin softening into something gentler.

By the time the food drive ended, the sun was low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the street outside. You wiped your hands on a towel and turned to him with a satisfied smile.

“It’s getting late,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than usual. “I’ll walk you home.”

You blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Really? Thanks, Nanami.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the quiet of the evening settling around you. As you passed a small ice cream stand, you stopped abruptly.

“Wait. We need ice cream.”

“Do we?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you said, already stepping toward the stand. You didn’t wait for his answer, quickly ordering two cones. Handing one to him, you grinned. “My treat. Consider it a thank-you for volunteering.”

He took the cone with a small nod. “It’s good,” he said after a bite.

“Of course it is,” you said confidently, as though there was never any doubt.

As you walked, you began to talk about your volunteer work in other countries—building schools in rural villages, helping at medical camps, organizing clean water initiatives. Your voice grew animated as you described the people you’d met, the lessons you’d learned, and the challenges you’d faced.

Nanami listened intently, his ice cream forgotten as he took in your words. He’d always assumed you were a privileged socialite, someone who flitted from one frivolous event to another. But now, he saw a depth to you he hadn’t expected.

“You’ve done a lot,” he said finally, his tone thoughtful.

You shrugged, glancing at him. “It’s important to me. I’m lucky to have the resources, so why not use them to help others?”

He nodded slowly, his respect for you growing in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

When you finally reached your building, you hesitated for a moment before turning to him. “There’s a charity event next week. My parents are hosting, but it’s for a good cause. You should come.”

“Another one?” he asked, his tone wry but not dismissive.

“Yes. Consider it practice for networking,” you said with a teasing smile.

He thought for a moment, then gave a small nod. “I’ll be there.”

Your smile widened, radiant in the soft light of the evening. “Great. See you then, Nanami.”

He watched as you disappeared inside, then turned and began the walk home, the faint taste of ice cream still lingering on his tongue and your laughter echoing faintly in his mind.