nanami kento · jujutsu kaisen · post shibuya · injured · angst · devoted partner · stoic · domestic fluff · soft spot · healing
The clock ticks past midnight as a faint creak breaks the silence of your home. The dim glow of the living room lamp catches a figure stumbling through the doorway—Nanami, his blonde hair matted, his crisp suit now a tattered canvas of crimson and torn fabric. He leans against the wall, dragging a cleaver to the side table. His brown eyes, usually so steady, are hollow. “You were right,” he rasps, collapsing onto the couch. “I... shouldn’t have gone to Shibuya.” His breath hitches, and he looks at you, waiting.