Chapter Text
You were not what Nanami Kento expected. At all.
When he had first seen you, he’d expected a shy, quiet girl. One of those who blushes at the smallest compliments and stumbles over her words. Your comfy cardigans and the Sanrio pins on your bag were a clear give away that you were a sweet person, and he adored the little shark keychain hanging from the zip. He was gone the second he saw you, tapping your pen against the desk in your shared finance lecture.
Now, Nanami Kento was a confident man. He was smart and well put together – and boy did he know it. But being a smart, academics focused man in college shockingly did not make him popular. It was a baffling concept, a man being in college... to learn. Cue the gaggle of disgusted women who will inevitably fall for the same roster of frat men. Because all healthy relationships start in a fraternity.
All things considered, it was safe to say that Nanami Kento kept very much to himself. Which is why it was weird when he sat beside you in a lecture one day. He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask for a pen, or notes; didn’t makes jokes or try to get your attention; didn’t bother you at all. He just... sat there. It became a little tradition that neither of you would acknowledge. You’d sit together and yet still somehow separately, and then completely ignore each other if you saw each other on campus.
Nanami loved it.
Truly. Loved it. He didn’t have to carry conversations, he didn’t have to explain the work to you, and he didn’t have to put on an act. And yet... he just couldn’t seem to get you out of his mind. It’d gone unnoticed at first – his little crush on you – in fact, he’d had no clue until you didn’t show up to class one day. Normally, the blonde man wouldn’t have noticed the absence of his classmate, but the empty seat where you should be was the biggest distraction he’d ever faced.
It was annoying. He was supposed to be focused. He prided himself on being focused. Yet he missed the entire lecture worth of context, information about empirical finance and corporate valuation completely passed him by. All his poor mind could focus on was your absence. The desk was emptier than usual, no aquatic shaped post-it notes, no notepads covered in shiny fish stickers, no pens with stingray toppers. Just an empty desk, completely devoid of marine life and whimsy.
He needed to tell someone about this odd development. I mean, it was obvious cause for concern. Maybe he had some sort of brain injury. That was the only plausible explanation for his sudden lack of focus. So, he turned to his friend.
Well, friend was a loose word for his relationship with Gojo Satoru. The white-haired man was less a friend and more a general nuisance. They’d been flatmates briefly in their first year of university, and Gojo had been stuck to him since. Like an itch on your hand that won’t go away regardless of how hard you scrape your teeth over your skin. But, he did have experience when it came to women.
Nanami had naively thought that Gojo would help without judgement. What a fool.
“Oh God, Nanamin! This is just precious! You. Have. A. Cruuuuuuuush!”
“Great so I have to avoid her forever so that I can focus on my degree.”
“What?! No! God for someone so smart, you are dense, Nanami.” Gojo didn’t give him time to defend himself before adding “You need to ask her out, bro! It’s perfect! Take her on Valentine’s day! Take her somewhere nice, dinner and a movie- wait no! Do an activity! Like an art gallery, or a museum, or-”
“The aquarium,” Nanami interrupts, speaking more to himself than Gojo. It was perfect. You always had that cute little fish-themed stationary with you, the aquarium would be a great date. Maybe he could even show off a little if he researched some of the fish. It was perfect. Now he just had to figure out how to ask you out...
When you walked into your next lecture, ready to learn about stocks and bitcoin, you find a note on your desk, because of course Nanami couldn’t ask you himself. The man wore a suit to college and glasses that constantly fell down his nose, if he asked you with words he’d make a fool of himself.
The note was simple, direct but not intimidating. Carefully worded, clear intentioned, no margin for error.
I noticed the fish stationary you have and was wondering if you’d want to go with the aquarium with me? I’ve got two tickets for February 14th.
It’s a date btw (if that wasn’t clear).
Nanami Kento
At the bottom are two little boxes. One labelled yes and the other no. Both had been scribbled out like he’d gotten embarrassed at the last minute. That part was a little shocking given Nanami’s normally calm demeanour, but it was endearing. He’d sat away from you in that lecture, only a seat or two away but still far enough to give you space to not pressure you into saying yes. Despite the immaturity of the check boxes, you find yourself smiling. It’s a little endearing even if unexpected. So, you redraw them and check the little ‘yes’ box in your glittery pen before sliding the note across the desk back to him.
After you had agreed to the date Nanami Kento became much more confident. He’d acquired you phone number and made all of the arrangements for the day. Your transport to and from the date (an uber there and he would walk you home), a reservation in the little aquarium restaurant for lunch, a session feeding the penguins with the aquarium staff. Nanami had it all figured out.
His one lapse in judgement came when he excitedly (or excitedly by Nanami’s standards) told Gojo that the plan had worked. At the time it had been an off handed comment, a small ‘she said yes’ before going back to whatever they had been talking about. Gojo hadn’t said much then, a few words of support, but nothing dramatic. That should have been the first warning sign to Nanami that the frat boy was up to something. Yet he remained blissfully unaware. Maybe it was the buzz of securing a date with you, maybe he had naively trusted Gojo to be normal about it.
He would soon realise that Gojo was, in fact, not normal about this. How could he be? Mr Stoicism himself had got himself a date with a girl who uses aquatic stationary. It was adorable and Gojo simple had to meddle.
Which is why when you showed up at the aquarium it was empty. No families, no couples, no children, no one. Just you and Nanami. You weren’t going to question it, maybe everyone just had plans for that day. And besides, it ensured that you would get to see all of your favourite fish up close without fighting through crowds of sticky, hyper, little children. Nanami however, did make a comment that caught your attention. A quiet one, under his breath not meaning for you to hear it.
“God, that nosey idiot-”
You know that he isn’t intending for you to pick up on his grumbling, but you can’t help but interject.
“Who? Did someone do something?”
Nanami went a little quiet at your question, a little amused by the adorable tilt of your head and your curious pout. He held his hand out for you to take as he started guiding you through the entrance of the aquarium.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just something my flatmate did. Let’s go see the fish, yeah? I can deal with him later.”
Now, Nanami knew that you liked fish. Anyone who had ever seen your stationary, or your bag, or your whale claw clips, and shark socks knew that you had an affinity for marine life. He knew that. That’s why he had picked the aquarium.
What he couldn’t have ever predicted was the way that you pointed at each individual fish saying their names and how you can tell the difference between the male and female fish. He thought that you were excited before, but your face practically lit up when you saw a pufferfish. It was, quite possible, the cutest thing that Nanami had ever seen.
“Did you see it Nanami? It’s a white-spotted pufferfish! They’re normally like only seen in the indo-pacific region, but a few years ago a young one was seen in the Mediterranean. And they’re nocturnal and solitary in the wild so they’re just out there living, and-”
You cut off your own rambling, realising that it isn’t polite to completely dominate the conversation. Not that Nanami seems to mind. It’s refreshing, not having to lead conversations, not being the smartest one. You’re intelligent, and he loves an intelligent woman. So, instead of laughing at you, or rolling his eyes like he would if Gojo were rambling, he points at another fish.
“You know much about that one?”
“That one? It’s a blue tanng, like finding dory. I mean the proper name is ‘Paracanthurus hepatus’ and-”