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Nanami Kento stood in the crowded school auditorium, his tall frame towering above most of the other parents. The room was alive with the sounds of excited chatter, the rustling of programs, and the occasional burst of laughter from children backstage. They shuffled with the crowd of parents. Once they were all settled, the play could begin. Someone was holding up the crowd from getting their own seats, delaying everyone. It was annoying, but he paid it no mind at all. He glanced down at the program in his hand, where the title of the play, The Little Leaf That Could, was printed in bold, cheerful letters. Below the title, a list of the children’s names was neatly typed out, and there it was: Itadori Yuuji.
The sight of his son’s name brought a small, warm smile to his face. He wasn’t one to show much emotion in public, but today was special. Today, Yuuji, his bright, energetic son, was making his stage debut, and Nanami wouldn’t miss it for the world.
He felt joy swell in his chest every time he thought the word, “son”. He hadn’t thought it’d happen so soon, but here he was, supporting his child in one of his first school plays. Every day, every milestone made it feel a little more real each time.
Beside him, Hairi stood, her arm gently looped through his. She had dressed casually but elegantly, her magenta hair framing her face in soft waves. A small set of headphones on her head to drown some of the clamor from the crowd. She looked up at Nanami, her mint eyes sparkling with excitement, she lifted one side of her headphones.
“Yuuji’s been practicing his lines non-stop,” Hairi said, her voice filled with pride. “He’s so nervous, but he’s going to do great.”
Nanami nodded, a hint of a smile still lingering on his lips. “He will. He’s put in the work.”
The lights in the auditorium dimmed, and the audience hushed. Nanami felt Hairi squeeze his arm slightly, and he glanced at her, sharing a moment of quiet anticipation. The curtain on the small stage began to rise, revealing a simple yet colorful set—an autumn forest, with paper leaves hanging from cardboard trees.
Yuuji, dressed in a little green leaf costume, was front and center. His face was a mix of concentration and excitement, his big brown eyes scanning the audience until they found his parents. When Yuuji spotted them, he beamed, waving enthusiastically. Nanami raised a hand in response, his usually stoic expression softening further as he watched him.
The play began, and Yuuji delivered his lines with enthusiasm and clarity, his little voice carrying through the auditorium. Nanami couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as he watched Yuuji navigate the stage with confidence, his movements animated and full of life.
Hairi leaned closer to Nanami, whispering, “He’s so adorable, isn’t he? I love how serious he’s taking this.”
“This is very serious,” Nanami replied softly, his gaze never leaving Yuuji. Hairi snickered at that, lightly shaking her head. She rested her cheek on his shoulder while watching the children prance and sing so badly.
As the play progressed, Yuuji’s role as the determined little leaf who didn’t want to fall from the tree became more central. His lines were simple but delivered with such sincerity that it brought a smile to many in the audience. Nanami felt his heart swell with a quiet, overwhelming pride. It was these moments that Nanami cherished most. Moments where he could see Yuuji being a normal, happy child. Giving him that normal life was the least he could do. Yuuji deserved to just be a kid.
The final scene arrived, where Yuuji’s character finally decided to let go of the tree and float gently to the ground, joining the other leaves. As the curtains began to close, the children took their bows, and the audience erupted into applause. Yuuji’s eyes sought out Nanami and Hairi again, and when he found them, his face lit up with pure joy.
Nanami clapped, louder than usual, his heart full as he watched Yuuji bask in the moment. Hairi was beside herself with excitement, clapping and cheering for him. When the applause died down, and the curtains were fully drawn, the parents began to stand, ready to greet their children.
“I think we have an actor in the family,” Hairi said, her voice light with amusement.
Nanami chuckled, a rare sound that only Hairi and Yuuji were privileged to hear. “So it seems.”
They made their way through the crowd, navigating the throngs of proud parents and hyperactive children, until they finally found Yuuji. He was still in his costume, his face flushed with happiness, holding a little flower that one of the teachers had given him for a job well done. He was with his friends as they were taken one by one back home with their own parents. Yuuji waved them off before he spotted them.
“Hairi! Nanamin! Did you see? I didn’t mess up at all!” Yuuji exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement.
“We saw, and you were amazing,” Hairi said, pulling him into a hug.
Nanami knelt down to Yuuji’s level, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You did very well, Yuuji. We’re both very proud of you.”
Yuuji beamed, his eyes shining with happiness. “Thanks, Nanamin.”
“What do you think, Yuuji? Do you want to be an actor?” Hairi asked, pulling her headphones down around her neck.
He looked at his little flower, shuffling from foot to foot while thinking about it with an audible hum. “No, I don’t,” he shook his head a little too fast and stumbled slightly. “I don’t know what I wanna do.”
“What do you like doing?” Nanami asked, taking his hand and walking with the two towards the school’s entrance.
“I like movies!” Yuuji beamed. Hairi laughed, taking his other hand.
As they walked out of the school together, Yuuji chattering excitedly about the play and his friends, Nanami found himself thinking about how much he cherished these moments. Life as a jujutsu sorcerer was dangerous and often unforgiving, but being here, with his family, was a reminder of why he fought so hard. It was for Yuuji, for Hairi, for the future he wanted to protect.
And in this moment, watching his son skip ahead of them, still buzzing with energy, Nanami knew that he would do whatever it took to keep this happiness alive.