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nanamikentoseyebags · 1 year

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I went to war with myself, for you

and when your worst nightmare is about to come true, what are the chances that you can stop it?

pairing: nanami kento x gn!reader

content: angst, angst, angst, hurt with comfort, mentions of death, mentions of weapons, blood, kisses, a bit of fluff.

a/n: i've been thinking about this for a long time and it's finally here. the main character here rewrites kento's destiny, because that's what he deserves. literally every word of it is filled with my personal pain that gege caused me by killing him. it's also my very first fanfic that i'm posting on my main, if you wanna check out the others, you can do it here - @satoruschapstic. i'm deeply sorry for all the inaccuracies and mistakes! hope you enjoy it <3

Everything comes with a price. It's a simple truth that you learned when you were just a child, born as a sorcerer into an ordinary family, burdened by mundane concerns. You were different from all the children of your age, able to understand and see much more than they ever could. Hoping to find a place where you could put all your energy into and learn how to master your body you tried all kinds of martial arts. You picked things up quickly. You were fast, agile, resilient and athletic. But no one understood back then that behind this strength and speed was something big, something special, terrifying even. Your reward and your curse.

Your power came out of the blue, even though all the time you felt that there was something in your veins besides human blood, something that would change you and your life over time. And so it did.

It was an ordinary day at school, when your little figure was hurrying to the exit, hoping not to be late for your training, and then you heard someone crying quietly. You turned to the direction of the sound and found a little girl squatting with her eyes squeezed shut and her backpack pressed to her chest. There were boys standing in a semicircle around her, looking way older. One of them was holding her tightly by the collar of her school uniform jacket. Without a moment's hesitation, you headed toward the group of hooligans, and as you got closer, you called out to her bully, asking him to leave the girl alone. He only grinned, spitting a few insults in your direction and returning his gaze to the victim. But you weren't planning on giving up. You never did. As you made your way through the crowd of boys, who squealed approvingly as the bully's hand soared up to hit the utterly terrified girl, you stood flat between them, shielding her. Until that moment, you didn't realize how small you were compared to all the boys, who were now huddled in an even tighter circle and staring predatorily at the newly emerged intercessor. Before the bully could utter a word, you touched his forehead with two fingers, guided by some unknown force.

You remember what happened next very vaguely. Your head felt like it was clenched in a vice, your vision went blurry; you knelt down so you wouldn't fall over, and on the ground you saw the boy's body. Then the scene changed, and you were still there. The same school, the same place, but there was no little girl, no crowd of rowdy bullies. Only the boy, but he was no longer lying there, he was standing in front of you, just as confused as you were. You did not remember the details of the conversation that happened between you afterwards, the only thing you remember is the hands of your mother, who pulled you closer to her chest when she saw you finally coming to your senses. Later, you told her everything you could, while fighting the unbearable headache and the fatigue that had finally gotten the better of you. You fell asleep almost as soon as your story was over, and that night you had strange dreams in which reality intertwined with imaginary worlds, but somehow everything seemed more than real.

Your story as a sorcerer began when your parents brought you to Tokyo and took you to Tokyo Jujutsu High. The school building was well hidden on Tokyo's outskirts, far and high in the mountains. They said it was a place where they would help you figure out your strengths and explain everything that was happening to you. It was there that they told you what your special technique was, the very thing that flowed in your veins and yearned to break out into the light. At first you were over the moon, finally having all your questions answered. But then came the moment when you had to learn the price of such a gift. The first blow was the separation from your parents. With tears in their eyes, feeling that they were leaving their child at the mercy of fate, they stepped outside the gates of the tech and smiled at you bitterly for the last time. You were crestfallen and in an attempt to get over your sorrow you plunged headlong into the exploration of your abilities.

The college director was by your side helping you to grasp the main things every sorcerer should have known. He laid out all your thoughts, but also planted a seed of doubt and fear that lurked somewhere in the depths of your soul. He explained that your power was one of the rarest, and involved the ability to put an enemy into a dream, yet control their subconscious. You were kind of a dream traveler, able to enter anyone’s dream and turn it into a nightmare, because everything you did to them in a dream happened in real time. You were an invaluable asset to their college, an indispensable player, an important figure. But things weren't quite as rosy as you first imagined. You were full of hope that on the battlefields you could finally be of any help and reach your potential. Yes, the amount of cursed energy in you was incredible, but it dropped to almost zero when you used your ability straight away. You had to recover for about a month or so to be useful again, to be of any value whatsoever. You still went on missions, but simple physics was often just not enough. And for the second time you realized how unfair everything could be. There were times when you weren’t able to save your loved ones, even if you seemed to have tremendous power in your hands. And you felt like you weren't enough: pathetic and useless pawn in this big game.

But despite all the twists and turns in life, all the difficulties that fate threw at you, you tried to stay afloat. You learned further, you perfected your techniques. You mastered how to control your energy, and how to use cursed objects. You became a 1st grade sorcerer. But you never stopped feeling useless, superfluous, no matter how often those around you said they were jealous of your ability. Your superiors told you to be careful not to use your power until the big day. But it felt like it’d never come.

You went with the flow of life, accepting the conditions of the higher–ups and battling your inner demons that threatened to overpower you. You found solace in other sorcerers. You found friends – people who shared your views, people who kept you from sinking into your own mire of thoughts. But there was one person who seemed to understand you better than himself. The man with whom you always went on missions without fear of being killed, or worse, humiliated. Kento Nanami always treated you with understanding. He never put any pressure on you, trusting your abilities to know what to do and how to do it. He left you free to act, coming to your aid only when he saw that you really needed it. People said that with your potential and your abilities, you could have easily surpassed him. You could have been stronger. Only if you weren't trapped by your own stupid technique. So it was always Kento who was saving you. You didn't know why, but he was always faster, more nimble, sturdier. He was nowhere and everywhere. He moved with mad speed, preventing the curse from even attempting anything, when his knife was already dissecting its flesh, dividing it into even pieces.

You were grateful. Every time he picked you up from the ground, covered in scratches and bruises, and told you that it wasn't your fault, and the curse was too obstinate, you were grateful. You smiled weakly at him, noticing the worry that clouded his eyes as he carefully treated the wound on your shoulder. He never voiced his concerns and never challenged you to talk, respecting your personal boundaries. And he never said how sorry he was, knowing that pity was the last thing you needed at this point. You cherished that, and you never opened up. Never to anyone. No matter how much time you spent together or what you went through.

But you snapped once. The two of you were fighting a special grade curse in Kyoto that had already managed to hurt a large number of people. You moved in a perfect unison, inflicting critical injuries on your enemy. And you were finally able to feel that you could compete, that you could be important and make a difference. Just then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Kento who was pinned to the ground by one of the curse’s tentacles, immobilized, but his face showed no emotion; on the contrary, he seemed even more confident in his strength. You calculated where it would be best to strike to free him, as all of a sudden, the curse, taking advantage of the one–second pause, lifted you into the air and hurled you into the building behind you. Your frail figure smashed through hundreds of walls before landing on the concrete floor. You could not move; blood oozing from your mouth. The katana you often took with you was now lying out of reach. In an instant, the curse was already over you, opening a wide maw with hundreds of thousands of teeth to end your life here and now. Despair and hopelessness swept over you, tears were coursing treacherously down your cheeks, blood was pooling in your veins. You weren't afraid to die. You were disgusted that you had failed your partner. You lost again.

You closed your eyes, swallowing convulsively and exhaling a quiet "fuck", ready to feel the sharp fangs piercing through your body. But all you felt were streams of blood, now covering most of your clothes and dripping onto the floor, mixing with your own blood. You opened your eyes and saw Kento in front of you, wiping the remains of the curse off his knife and kneeling down to you. You didn't hear a word he said, leaning over you and staring fearfully into your eyes. You managed to find the strength to wrap your bloody arm around his neck to pull him closer. You couldn't hold on any longer; you cried bitterly, clutching his shirt so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You talked about all your fears between your sobs, you poured out your heart to him, and you apologized a hundred times for not being able to help him. Your hand never loosened its grip on the fabric of his shirt, not even for a second. Kento was nodding knowingly, hоlding you gently in fear of hurting you, and quietly whispered words of encouragement against the top of your head. You spent about an hour like that, opening each other's wounded and blood–covered souls, finding meaning anew in each other's arms. From then on, you never parted again. You knew each other's darkest secrets. You were each other's sanctuary. And you didn't need anyone else.

You began to get used to life with Kento, and he made it easier for you just by his presence. You hadn't felt such ease and security in a long time. You were still going on missions together, but their number had noticeably lessened lately, and both of you were running towards a normal, unencumbered life with open arms, ready as ever to enjoy the simple things that you had failed to notice before. But darkness was already waiting for you around the corner, stretching out its bony arms and ready to pull you down with it.

You began to have strange dreams, not the kind you've been used to since childhood. Different. More frightening. More disturbing. Making you wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. You didn't pay much attention to them at first, but when they began to come true, you grew anxious. At first, they were harmless dreams, in which you saw the exact places where the curses would operate. Then you began to dream about people you knew. They were getting wounded during a fight. Some of them were dying; some of them could find the way to escape. You told Kento about everything, and then you went to Gojo, who at first brushed it off, but when he realized your dreams were kind of bad omens for the jujutsu world, he made you promise that you would tell him everything you saw and that he would make sure to deal with the aftermath of your dreams.

Several times you tried to go to the places you saw in your dreams, explaining that if was you who saw them, it meant it was your cross and you had to bear alone. But neither Satoru nor Kento would let you go, knowing how tough your recoveries usually went. So you returned to this vicious circle from which there was no way out. You were plagued by helplessness, worried about others being sent on your missions, and slept very little for fear of another nightmare. But they didn't leave you for a second. You were the first to see a pink–haired boy eating an indefinable finger in your dream, the transformation that happened to him made you jump up in bed screaming. No one knew anything at the time about the boy or the fingers. Only Gojo hummed meaningfully and once again asked you not to worry. After a while, you met Itadori in person, the boy who had become the vessel of the King of Curses. Another failure in your piggy bank.

Your nightmares grew more monstrous, more vivid, more real with each passing day. You could only find a modicum of tranquility in the presence of Kento. Who gently stroked your hair as you fell asleep curled at his side. He watched intently for every change in the rhythm of your heart, your breathing, your facial expression, looking for signs that you were in the middle of another nightmare once again. But that almost never happened when he shared the bed with you. He was your magic sleeping pill. A little happy pill that allowed you to forget yourself for a moment.

That's why you were terrified to close your eyes today, knowing that Kento wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning. You struggled to occupy yourself with something, to distract, to hide from the inevitable. But in the end you drifted off into a dream that once again divided your life into before and after. You saw many familiar faces, an empty subway station, friends, enemies, all mixed into an incomprehensible, fiercely screaming mass. You heard metal clanking, human shrieks, you saw blood and limbs. You saw someone's twisted grimace, someone's silhouette fading into the distance, their face impossible to discern behind a cascade of raven–wing hair. It looked familiar. Frighteningly familiar. Then you caught sight of Kento, the left side of his face covered in blood, his eye missing. He was standing in front of an odd–looking man. He had a single cycloptic eye, pale gray skin but the top of his head faded into a brown color where the volcanic opening was, he looked like the one Gojo mentioned in his report. And then you saw fire. The fire that engulfed Kento from his head to his toes. The fire that was coming from the curse. You tried to scream, but you couldn't. No sound came out of your mouth. The scene changed rapidly, now you could hear Itadori's voice calling out Kento's name, but everything was shrouded in darkness. Then you saw another one, he had stitches all across his body. The same curse that had already wounded Kento not so long ago. You saw his hand flying into the air. Things seemed to freeze. As if in slow motion, you saw your loved one's body shattered into splinters. Your deafening scream echoed through the empty apartment that was Nanami's. You jumped up on the bed, covering your mouth with shaking hands, holding back your sobs and trembling all over. You buried your face in your hands, hoping to hide from what had just frightened you to death. Unable even to sit up straight, you collapsed back onto the bed, curled up and shuddering with sobs. You howled so loudly that you failed to hear the sound of footsteps approaching you, but only felt the warmth of familiar hands gently pulling you to a wide chest.

“What happened, y/n? What? One of your nightmares? I'm here, it's okay, shhh, it's over, it was just a dream,” his concerned voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

Kento now held you tightly to him, placing you gently in his lap. His hand was carefully stroking your head, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“Look at me, my love. Whatever it was, we can handle it together. I promise, just tell me what's wrong,” he said softly, almost in a whisper, but just enough for you to hear the notes of tenderness and care in his voice.

You lifted your head hesitantly, exposing your tearful eyes to him. Trickles of tears still oozed from your eyes as you frantically tried to memorize every wrinkle on his face, as if he was going to disappear in the next moment. Kento left a light kiss on your forehead, deftly wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“It's all right, you can tell me everything.”

He repeated softly, albeit persistently, letting you know that you don't have to keep it all to yourself and cope with it alone. He was there to ease your pain. Little did he know at the time that all your pain and all your happiness lay in him alone. Your heart was bursting out of your chest, hoping to unite with his heart and beat in tune, knowing that it would never again be torn apart by separation. You don't know how you found the strength to answer him and sound convincing.

“It's all right, really, just one of those nightmares I used to have when I was a kid. I don't know why it scared me so much now, probably because you weren't around,” you said quietly, not trusting your voice.

A pack of lies. That’s what it was. You weren't sure who exactly it was good for: you, because you couldn't make yourself to repeat the awful details of your nightmare, looking into his honeyed eyes, or him, because otherwise he had to know what fate had in store for him. He was the last man on earth who could ever deserve such a thing. You hated yourself for the false words that poured from your mouth, but you couldn't have it any other way. The truth always comes out, but you hoped it wouldn't now.

Kento believed you, or pretended to do so. But he never brought it up again, seeing how painful and difficult it was for you to restrain the dread that stirred in your bosom. Yet you never forgot a thing, not for a second. Fear was slowly shackling you in its iron grip, not letting you take a deep breath. You carried these thoughts and fragments of the dream with you for several more days, until the heaviness in your chest became unbearable. You went in search of Gojo, deep in your heart hoping to find some relief in his words. He was the only person to whom you told that wretched dream, withholding nothing, trying to recollect the smallest details.

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” he said in a frighteningly calm voice, “this day will never come. Who said all of your nightmares have to come true, huh? It could just be a dream where things got mixed up. Don't worry your pretty little head about it, sweets. Nanami will be just fine.”

“But...,” before you could even begin, Satoru cut you off.

“But if that day ever comes, I'll take care of it, I'm the strongest, remember?” he smiled broadly, winking, and encouragingly shook you by the shoulders before disappearing around the corner.

Your heart desperately wished to believe him, to grasp the thought and never let it go, to give in to this devious deception. But your mind knew that it was a vain hope that you couldn’t afford.

So you spent your days in a constant emotional torment, clinging to Kento a little more often, holding him a little longer before leaving on another mission, kissing him a little more desperate in the hope of delaying the day's arrival.

But it came many times faster than you could have ever anticipated.

It seems all you had time to do was blink, there you were, lying on Kento's chest, tracing patterns on his skin, enveloped in warmth and serenity, as the next moment, he was going on a mission to Shibuya, donning his jacket. You knew that this was exactly what you feared the most. Your made–up quiet life was crumbling before your eyes with every step he took toward the door. Your heart was beating with such force in your temples that you could barely hear your own thoughts. You followed him on his heels as he gathered the necessary things, frantically fidgeting your fingers and trying to find a reason for him to stay. His calm expression wasn't helping; you wanted to punch him in the chest, to tell him that he couldn't leave you like this; he couldn't be so calm, walking toward his death…And he could not know that, but even if he did, he would rather be of service there, and lay down his life saving others. In your mind you were sending his heroism to hell, but you knew he was doing the right thing. You ran barefoot after him to the door, desperately grabbing his hand and begging him not to leave. He only smiled warmly, kissing you on the lips a few times goodbye.

“Before you know it, I'll be back, and we'll go to our favorite restaurant and order our [favorite dish], I promise. Don't miss me that much," he added between kisses, I’ll still have time to bore you.”

“Bullshit...,” you whispered helplessly, “why can't you stay with me? Please? They can handle it. Or I could go with you.”

“These kids need help; I can be of help to them there, who knows what that veil means, and what lies behind it. And you need to take care of yourself, darling. I love you.”

Those were the last words you heard, and then the door closed behind him. You slowly slid down the wall, choking back tears and hating your own helplessness. You cursed everyone and everything for constantly being robbed of the opportunity to just be. It was so damn unfair, how many trials had fallen to your fates, but in spite of that, your paths crossed, your lives collided, only to have him taken away forever.

The higher–ups refused to send you along, assuring you that if things got really bad, you would be their ace in the hole. So you were left alone with your thoughts in an empty college classroom, wondering how you could be their trump card if you couldn't save the dearest man in your life. Oh and how you begged for your prayers to be answered, for Satoru to take care of everything and bring Nanami back to you alive. You sat in a chair by the window, swaying frantically, your eyes remained focused on the skyline. You had an earpiece in your ear, like all the sorcerers who went there. You flinched at every rustle, every sound breaking the silence of the half–empty building. It was the only way you could get the latest news in real time. You couldn't stay in one place for long, either sitting or standing up, or pacing the room with your hands in your pockets for hours. You felt as if you were in a cage, unable to leave the confines of your own prison. Your lips were bleeding from how hard your teeth were digging into them.

And then you received news that made your heart stop beating, and you barely had time to grab the edge of the table to keep your balance and not fall to the floor. Satoru got sealed. You couldn't really comprehend anything. Your thoughts were muddled, and your legs were treacherously shaky. But...he's the strongest, isn't he? What would happen to all those left to fight now? The questions swarmed through your head, giving you a massive headache. If anything, there was no one else to come to help.

You'd been too long the one to be rescued, hidden, fed on promises, and left behind. You had the strength that some students were envious of, and you were no worse than the rest – perhaps even superior in some respects. You were so tired of being cornered, scared, weak and vulnerable. You had strength in you that anyone who came across your path would know about. You no longer planned to hide; you grabbed your backpack, and, clutching your katana tightly in your hand, headed straight to the open grinning mouth of the monster called doom.

Meanwhile, physical pain permeating Kento’s whole body reverberated with tenfold force in his heart; once behind the veil, he realized that things were much worse than anyone could have ever imagined. Gojo was in a prison realm, which meant that an even greater responsibility for the lives of all the students fell on his shoulders. His thoughts were filled with you when one of the curses almost took his life, the moment he lost his left eye. His hair was now down, blond strands covered with dried blood clinging to his forehead. His shirt, once clean and perfectly ironed, was now torn in places, showing traces of blood that was not his own. But he kept moving forward you, knowing that you would do the same, you would return to him, no matter what it cost. And he would do the same. The steps no longer came as easily as before, but he tried to ignore such trifles. Now it was vital to concentrate on the enemy, to think faster, more coherent, more unpredictable. Kento stepped toward Jogo, hoping to protect Megumi and Maki, who had suffered enough already. And they were just children who should never have experienced such horrors of life. He swung his knife to strike, but his opponent moved twice faster, reaching out, almost touching his torso, as someone pushed Kento back with force, cutting off the curse’s arm up to the elbow.

Kento, falling backwards, looked up in disbelief only to meet your [color] eyes, which were filled with mixture of remorse and relief. You clutched your katana firmly, blood dripping from its edge. You couldn't wait to hug him tightly right then and there, as the sight of him shattering your heart into a billion pieces, but you had to finish what you started.

“Let me save you just once,” you muttered softly, barely managing to touch the Jogo’s forehead, who seemed to lose sight of what was happening, pressing the rest of his bloody hand to his chest and screaming in an unmanly voice, as Kento leaped up and tried to catch your hand. All he felt was emptiness. It was too late and he found himself separated by a barrier created by your Domain Expansion. Now that Jogo was trapped inside of it, all power was concentrated in your small hands, and you weren't going to give him any indulgences.

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing?” The cursed spirit shrieked, baring his black teeth and choking with indignation, his eyes darting from your face to your katana.

“It doesn't matter who I am, you'd better think of yourself,” you ignored his questions, and with a sudden, unprecedented confidence, you strode slowly back and forth, not even glancing at him.

“Where are we? Where is everyone?” Jogo looked around; trying to spot anyone's presence, but the station was completely empty. A grimace of horror washed over his face.

“We're in your dream,” you finally turned in his direction, “I'm inside your head, and your body is lying on the floor there on the station while we're here chatting. And while we're here, you're going to tell me what the hell is going on here and who's behind it all. I know someone is using Geto's body. Who’s that and why?”

“Why would I ever answer your fucking questions? You're just another useless bitch who pretends to be worth something,” he grinned, clenching his single hand into a fist.

“You see, you're deeply wrong on my account, I actually do worth something. You're on my territory now, and if you don't tell me anything, you'll die, I guarantee that,” you raised your katana, pointing it in his direction.

“And if I do?” Jogo narrowed his eye, looking at you intently.

“Then you'd die quicker and less excruciatingly, I could arrange that,” the corners of your lips curved up, forming a semblance of a smile. “You won't touch any of these people again.”

“Oh, so it's something personal,” now it was the curse's turn to look down at you, smiling evilly. I wanted to set that blond guy on fire so fucking much.

Something shivered inside you, but you didn't give it away, continuing to look directly at him. Your face showed no emotion.

“It is, but that's none of your fucking business. It's time for you to hurry up and make a decision about my offer. It seems it was very merciful of me not to kill you in agony.”

“Fuck you!” he shrieked furiously and sprinted towards you.

There was a snap. The only thing Jogo heard was a snap before he was blown to bits. Since the cursed energy in you reached its peak, that simple gesture was just enough to end it all at once.

The barrier, through which Kento had been vainly trying to break through all this time, collapsed the second the last drop of Jogo's blood touched the cold concrete floor. You turned around in an instant and saw your man, his hands with the knife hovering in place, exactly where the barrier wall had once been. His startled eye scanned you for visible wounds, but as soon as Kento realized you were unharmed, he tossed the knife aside, closing the distance between you in a few steps. You dropped your katana, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your whole body against him. Kento could feel you trembling in his arms. Pulling you impossibly close to his body, his arms wrapped around your waist. As you found the strength to pull away slightly, your hands moved to his face, now gently stroking his blood–covered cheekbones. "You're alive, you're alive," you repeated as if in a delirium, gently brushing his hair away from his forehead. Your gaze flickered across his face until it landed on his lips. Unable to wait any longer, you kissed him, not giving him a chance to say a word. It was messy, desperate, so impatient, yet so moving. Teeth, tongues and all. Your fingers clutched the collar of his shirt, as he ran his hand through your hair.

You pulled away first, smiling weakly, but so sincerely through your tears. Kento gently wiped the tear that was rolling down your cheek.

“You...where is that curse? Are you okay? I... I nearly lost my mind, why are you here and...” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

“Shh,” you put your index finger to his lips, “he's gone, I got rid of him, but that's not over. I need to tell you everything, I need to tell you everything I saw in that dream when you found me in our bedroom, remember? You have to listen to me. We can't let this happen; we have to make it right. I'm not leaving without you.”

And you told him everything that was going to happen next, not hiding a thing, caressing his hand, assuring him that things would be okay. You were able to contact the others to give coordinates. You knew the place where Mahito would be waiting, and with a heavy heart, but his hand in yours, you headed there. Kento wasn't sure your plan would work, and somewhere in the back of his mind he was almost resigned to the fact that he would die today, because both yours and his powers, were running out, but the faith that finally sparked somewhere deep within you, your eyes that burned with hope for the first time in years became his little driving force.

It seemed like you got there a little too quickly. Your self–confidence was dwindling with every step you took. But you had no right to make a mistake. Kento had come to your rescue so many times; without him, you would have been dead long ago. You had to find the strength to help everyone.

Kento went first. You were left waiting and once again praying to God that you would be in time to help. The sound of his shoes hitting the floor echoed through the deserted station. Kento walked confidently down the stairs, knife at the ready.

“Here you are at last, and all by yourself. Wanna chat?” A tall figure rounded a corner, coming out into the light. He has long grayish–blue hair covering part of his face, but his twisted smile was impossible to miss, “no one would bother us, it’s been a while.” His figure started approaching Kento, extending his arms in an open hug.

“He's not alone, you fucker,” you hissed, stepping out of the shadows, appearing behind Kento's back. At the same moment, other sorcerers in all directions began to come out, trapping Mahito in a circle. For a moment his face lit up in amazement, and taking advantage of the pause, Kento struck a blow, cutting off the hand that had been extended to him. Mahito froze in place, staring in bewilderment at the spot where his hand had just been.

„It's funny that you're all here,” he burst out laughing insanely, flying into the air and landing a little farther away, “it's more entertaining that way.” He waved a hand, tossing the little figures to the floor and at the same moment the pile of curses, which were once humans, increased in size and moved toward you. All the sorcerers who were there rushed into action, using all their techniques, flying into the air as they moved with the speed of the wind, scattering curses in different directions. You fought back–to–back with Kento, not moving a step away. You wielded your blades swiftly and skillfully, slicing apart the creatures that approached you.

Mahito was on the sidelines, climbing on top of the photo booth, watching with rapt attention as everyone fought to the death. But his gaze was fixed on Kento.

„Oh how much I enjoy watching you, we could have been good friends… but it's time to get rid of you,” he giggled, jumping to the ground and motioning in your direction.

You could see him coming, the way he deftly dodged punches from all sides. Mahito moved as if the station was empty and there was no one around him, no katanas ringing through the air and nothing disturbing the silence. His long hair was flying in the wind, revealing his fastened with stitches face, blood dripping from the rest of his arm, leaving trails stretching behind him.

You swallowed hard, glancing furtively at Kento, who was fighting another curse beside you without seeing what was going on behind, and with icy hands but a hot heart you lifted your head, raising an eyebrow.

“Is it time for real fun?” you uttered with ostensible confidence.

“Oh yes, and you're getting in the way,” he tilted his head, displaying his grin. “I'm going to have to end it with you real quick.”

His arm extended forward, almost grabbing you by the throat, but you jumped to his side just in time, splitting part of his face with your katana. You moved easily, confidently, precisely, remembering how your trainer had praised you when you'd knocked out boys twice your size as a little girl. You fought off all his attacks, and with every second his lips grew into a bigger smile. He played with you like a cat with a mouse, letting you get closer and inflicting painful wounds. And, when, you hesitated for a second, searching for Kento with your eyes, Mahito flung your katana away and swept you off your feet, pinning you to the floor with his foot.

“It's fun with you, too,” he leaned closer, “but time is running out, and I have an important business here, so,” his hand, which had turned into a drill, moved closer to your face, “it's time to say goodbye.”

You knew that without the ability to use your technique and the low level of cursed energy you had almost no chance to gain the upper hand. So you relied entirely on your physical abilities, and your goal was to distract and hold him off until someone else could deliver the final blow. And then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Kento's figure emerge behind him.

“I'll miss you,” you said, spitting blood.

His eyebrows rose in surprise, and his lips fluttered open to say something else, but the next second, Kento's knife sliced him in half.

You threw your head back, exhaling spasmodically, lifting your arm with desperate efforts to cover the wound on your side. Kento was right beside you, covering your hand with his own, looking regretfully at your small, bruised figure, lying in a pool of blood. All the sounds subsided; you could see that not a single curse was left around you anymore. Itadori helped Megumi up, looking intently in your direction.

“It'll be all right,” you said quietly, smiling haggardly, and pointed to your intertwined hands, blood slowly seeping out through your fingers. “Shoko will patch us up, and we'll be fine, and...”

“Thank you for saving me,” you both said simultaneously, without taking your eyes off each other.

You smiled softly, reaching your hand out to his face, gently running your thumb across the left side of his face. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes.

„I wish I'd gotten there sooner, we could have kicked everyone's asses,” you squeezed your eyes shut, and, overcoming the pain, you gingerly sat down on the floor.

“We did it,” Kento smiled softly, taking your hand in his, kissing your palm, “and now we have to get out of here.”

He was at his wits' end, but nothing could stop him from lifting you into his arms bridal style. His arms gently wrapped around you, pulling you close to him, and slowly, limping, he carried you to the exit of the station, to where the veil ended and your life was to begin from scratch. Yes, it was only the beginning of the war, but for you, it was now over.

***

It's been months of long recovery for both of you so that you can now sit together in a restaurant and truly enjoy that very [favorite dish]. Your eyes sparkle with pure joy, and a smile almost never leaves your lips, just from the fact that Kento is sitting across from you, smiling embarrassedly at the corners of his lips, not yet used to his new look, but he's getting there. Your hands rest on the table, fingers intertwined, like your lives that no one else will ever be able to part again. You smile even wider, moving closer to him and leaving a light kiss on his cheek, just under his eye patch. And for the first time, you feel that it is not the nightmare that stops you, but it is you who now stops it.

@shamelessperfectionhideout @vagabond-umlaut @afortoru @mitsuyeaah @gojoshooter @nikokopuffs @luckimoon @sokivv 🫣

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! <3

#i had tons of breakdowns while writing it #kento nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk nanami #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #jjk megumi #jjk headcanons #itadori jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic

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