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Kento leaned heavily on his cane as he made his way to the porch of his bungalow. He smiled softly as the ocean breeze pushed through his thinning hair. You two would like it here, wouldn't you. He sat down in the rocking chair Gojo had bought for the seemingly sole purpose of teasing him about his join health as though the white haired wasn't old and declining himself. Being 73 was not fun and games. But then again, Kento had never thought it would be. In fact, he'd always known it was more likely than not he never lived this long in the first place.
He'd only moved here, to Malaysia, six months ago, when he was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. The kids- well, they weren't kids anymore if they were in their fifties, took it harder than he did honestly. Kento felt like it was coming for him, like it had been for a long time. He was old, stained with scars and sins that would follow him to the grave. He was ready to go, and he knew it was a question of days or hours, not months anymore. No one had told him than, but he knew it. somehow.
He watched a teen girl run barefoot down the beach before him, carrying a giggling toddler on her shoulders. He smiled and waved as she approached his bungalow. The two were from a local family who occasionally checked in on them at Shoko's request. "Hey Zahra. How are you and Akmal doing? And your parents?"
The girl lowered the toddler from her shoulders and he waddled into the bungalow. "It is all amazing mister Nanami! I got a scholarship from a rich person to go to college in America. I want to be a doctor, just like miss Shoko."
"That's wonderful Zahra. I hope you enjoy America. It is an amazing place to visit."
"Have you ever been there?"
"Yes, I visited New York City once."
"Really? What was it like?"
"It was loud, and dirty. But is was also colorful and beautiful. People from all over the world were there, and there was a lot of street food vendors too. And the museums were amazing."
"Wow." The girl gushed about all the American places she wanted to visit, foods she wanted to try, and things she wanted to do. She reminded him of Haibara and Yuuji, both gone from the world too soon.
"Enjoy it all while you can," He said. "And go see a waterfall if you can."
She opened her mouth to reply but was distracted by the toddler as he waddled out of the bungalow with something tucked in his fist. "Whatcha got there, Akmal?" She reached for what he held, and the chubby child showed his findings proudly. It was a little kirby keychain that Yuuji had given him after their mission with Mahito, while he was on his way to the exchange event. Kento stared at it. Zahra's voice broke through his thoughts. "Akmal, give it back to mr. Nanami!"
Nanami chuckled at their antics as she chased the devious toddler. "He can keep it. The person who gave it to me was just like you two, and I think he'd agree you should have it."
"Are you sure mr. Nanami?"
"I'm sure. Yuuji would have loved you two."
"Who's Yuuji?"
"A ray of sunshine in human flesh..." Kento told the enraptured children about Yuuji and his antics. Partway through he realized he was acting in that "back in my day" grandfather-esque way that Gojo would 100% tease him for, but he continued anyway, at the children's prodding.
When the sun began to set, Kento shooed the two away, telling them to get home before their parents began to worry. He watched Zahra race off with Akmal on her back smiling as she ran down the beach. Would those children still smile at him if they knew what he'd done? Would their parents still allow them to visit if they knew of the blood on his hands? He'd killed a lot of people, and he was ashamed to say he didn't even know how many. In that haze of pain-wrought time after Yuuji's death, he had followed Gojo in a path of blood. Kento could still feel the cleaver's hilt in his hand, the warm blood that wasn't his seeping through his clothes, hear the cries of terrified children and wounded men's death throes, see how that wound on his abdomen stitched itself up as he discovered the reversed cursed technique and managed to fail at dying too, not just living.
Would they hate me?
Zahra.
Akmal.
Yuuji.
Haibara.
They were all so innocent, their pure smiles and hopeful futures only serving to be dashed and destroyed by the likes of him.
Kento wasn't that different from those men that killed Yuuji, was he? After all, He had never stopped to think about the futures, the families, or the potential of the people he'd killed as he shattered his conviction, washed it away with the blood of innocent and guilty alike. Who was he to judge those that did the same to a bright, hopeful, pink haired boy?
You would hate the man I've become Yuuji. I'm nothing more than a murderer.
Pain lanced through his head.
His vision tunneled
Gravity felt... wierd.
Then everything was white, only for a moment, before fuzzy pink hair obscured his view, and he felt arms wrap around him as a shorter body slammed into him.
"I could never hate you, Nanamin."