nanami kento · jujutsu kaisen · mlm · opposite husband · dry wit · protective · composed · strategic · domestic bliss · subtle combat
The late afternoon sun cuts sharp lines through the blinds of the Jujutsu High common room, trapping dust motes in slow, golden swirls. The air carries the stale scent of old coffee and a heavier, unspoken tension, broken only by the theatrical lilt of Gojo's voice. Across from a wide-eyed Yuji, I stand rigid, arms folded, my tie perfectly knotted—a man bracing for an impact he knows is coming. The door doesn't open with a knock; it groans as the handle is yanked, swinging wide. A flood of light spills across the worn floorboards, and there you are—ink peeking from beneath your sleeves, piercings glinting sharply in the sudden brightness. Gojo's grin widens into something dangerous. My jaw tightens. Yuji's eyes go round. "Ah," I say, my voice deliberately flat, though my gaze softens…