Nanami Is The Best - Blog Posts

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.