CAREER DAY β NANAMI KENTO
β³ Summary: It's your favorite day of the school year, and you've never met Yuji's father... until now.
β³ WC: 4.2k
β³ AN: my submission for @nanamiweek's Day 1 Papamin prompt! I had such a blast writing this one, I've truly missed my favorite blonde. Perhaps this has the makings for a little mini-collection of Nanami, kid Yuji, and teacher shenanigans. β³ Links: one | TWO | THREE |
Youβd been up to your eyeballs in glitter, paper cups, and rocket fuel caffeine since six oβclock sharp.Β
Not a complaint in sight. You adored Bring Your Parent to School Day almost as much as your students did. There was something endlessly endearing about the way they paraded their grown-ups around theΒ classroom like rare PokΓ©mon cards, puffed up with pride, introducing themΒ to friends as if they'd rolled up in a limousine rather than a Subaru.Β
βThis is my mom!β one girl might yell, face luminous with excitement and star-struck eyes. βShe does peopleβs eyebrows.βΒ
Gasps all around. You would barely be able to keep a straight face.Β
The professions were almost always lost on your second-graders, theirΒ tongues tripping merrily over syllables like βchiropractorβ andΒ βestheticianβ but it didnβt matter. Their awe wasnβt in the job. It was in theΒ magic of presence. That Mom or Dad had stepped out of the nebulous, grown-up world to sit on tiny plastic chairs and drink juice boxes besideΒ them β it made everything feel a little shinier.Β
You loved it, honestly. A soft, well-earned reprieve from math drills and shoelace catastrophes. It warmed you from the inside out to see the little duos in action β hands clasped, sneakers swinging under desks, prideΒ glowing from every corner.Β
Most of the parents youβd met already β familiar faces from conferences and after-school sports games, or quick hellos in the pickup line. The day was as much about touching base with them as it was about stepping into the background and letting the kids run the show.Β
Except for one unfamiliar face paired to a brand new name.Β
Yuji Itadori was new this year. A mid-year transfer who had,Β miraculously, skipped all the usual hurdles and growing pains of social integration. No sulking in the corner, no anxiety-stricken tugs on yourΒ sleeve. The boy had walked in, grinned at you with gapped and missingΒ teeth, and within forty-eight hours had more friends than you could count βΒ probably even more than you had yourself.Β
You hadnβt met his father. Radio silence on that front aside from slips and papers returned signed in neat calligraphy, and one brief, clipped phone call beforeΒ Yujiβs first day. The mysterious Mr. Nanami remained just that: a mystery.
But Yuji wrote his own mythology.Β
According to him, his dad was very tall, very strong, very good at math,Β and β most importantly β the best dad in the world.
Youβd seen at least four crayon portraits of the man. A scribbled head of blonde hair. Always in a suit. Always holding Yujiβs hand. One even featured a big spotted paddle (sword?), though Yuji was quick to assure you that it wasnβt real. Youβd raised a brow and let it slide. You were used to dads in superhero capes and interpretive renditions of fist-fighting monsters. This wasnβt odd.Β
When the phone rang that night, youβd answered with the upbeatΒ warmth you always offered new parents β a smile in your voice, ready to build that bridge. But Nanami Kento crossed it first.Β
His tone was even, no-nonsense. Not unfriendly, but certainly not oneΒ for pleasantries or menial small-talk.
He informed you, calmly and concisely, that his family was undergoing aΒ period of adjustment.
That if Yuji struggled β academically, socially, or emotionally β you were toΒ contact him immediately.
He thanked you. Briefly. And ended the call with a curt, βEnjoy the rest of your evening.βΒ
No mention of a mother.Β
None from Yuji, either.Β
Youβd read between and colored in enough lines in your career toΒ understand that well enough.Β
And even in the brevity of those clean, clinical lines of his voice, youΒ caught a glimpse of him β this man Yuji so obviously admired. Serious.Β Sharp. The kind of parent who showed up and cared, even if not always inΒ person.Β
Still, you hadnβt expected him to show up at all.Β
Not until his name appeared on the list for Bring Your Parent to SchoolΒ Day.Β
And certainly not with the kind of presence that would make youΒ double-check the dress you wore that morning.
Youβd been welcoming parents for the last twenty-five minutes, and each one brought with them another blur of motion β squeaky sneakers pelting down the linoleum hallway, the slap of a hand against the doorframe, a gleeful shriek ofΒ your name. Youβd pop your head out with a wide smile, crouching low to greet each student like your own, your voice warm and sunflower-bright.Β
βGood morning!βΒ
A gentle pat on the back, and off theyβd go β nudged toward the longΒ folding table piled high with boxed donuts, pastries, and room temperatureΒ juice boxes. Youβd done your best to make this morning a special one within your limited means.Β
The parents made for an even more eclectic bunch than their children. Some arrived in scrubs, others in hard hats, mud-streaked boots trailingΒ across your clean rug (you winced, mentally tabbing another steam-cleanΒ rental).
One mother came in juggling mannequin heads. Another brought aΒ stethoscope, which she graciously let the kids try on. And one father βΒ clearly playing for keeps β arrived with a black lab from the fire station inΒ tow. The dog wriggled and basked in the attention of twenty sticky-fingeredΒ admirers, tail a blur like an overdriven metronome.Β
You would definitely have to steam clean the rug.Β
There was always one family that stole the spotlight, and this year'sΒ frontrunner had all but cinched it with four paws and a lolling tongue. ThatΒ was hardly fair play.Β
Still, as you subtly ushered parents toward the foam cups and coffeeΒ station, you couldnβt help but notice one bright face conspicuously missing. Yuji Itadori wasnβt exactly the type to blend in, and heβd never missed a dayΒ of school.
You frowned, glancing up at the wall clock just as the minuteΒ hand slipped neatly into place.Β
8:29.Β
Right on cue, the hallway outside your classroom erupted.Β
There was a screech β rubber soles skidding like brakes on blacktop βΒ and then Yuji exploded into the room with the exuberance and subtlety of a category five hurricane, sending art projects fluttering and bulletin boardsΒ rattling in his wake. He collided into your legs and wrapped himself aroundΒ them.Β
βTold you we were gonna be late!β he howled, already twisting to glare over his shoulder.Β
You barely had time to ruffle his hair before a second voice β measured,Β calm, and cut from a different cloth entirely β followed behind.Β
βAnd I told you we would be right on time.βΒ
The clock ticked. 8:30 on the dot.Β
βAnd we are.βΒ
The crisp click of dress shoes in long, confident strides heralded theΒ arrival of a man youβd heard so much about, even if written in the strokesΒ that belonged in something as fantastical as The Odyssey.Β
Brown leather shoes shined within an inch of their life, gleaming like mirrors beneath long legs dressed in tailored beige β an unusual suit color, but you decided not an unflattering one. It was immaculate. Pressed. And the faint creases at the elbows and knees were the only lifeline cast to save you fromΒ the broad chest and shoulders beneath his jacket, and his faceβΒ
What did Yuji say his dad did for work again�
You couldnβt tell. HeΒ came empty-handed without props or costume, only deepening the mystery and leaving you to your own intrigued speculation.Β
A model, maybe.Β Editorial spreads. GQ. Gentlemanβs Digest, something. It had to be.Β
You were staring. You were still smiling and you were still staring, and at some point Yuji had un-velcroed himself from your legs and launched into a new tirade, tugging eagerly at his fathers hand.Β
βI wanna show you my art! And my favorite toys, and all my friends,Β andβoh! Nanamin, thereβs a dog!βΒ
Nanami whoβd been looking at you turned to his son and took a knee, andΒ you witnessed a 3-second timelapse of glacial melting in the stern lines of his face. His eyes went soft and his mouth untensed into the suggestion of aΒ smile.Β
βIβll look at everything in a moment,β he said, voice gentled for Yuji alone. βMay I speak with your teacher first?β
You nodded encouragingly, voice tugging itself back into your throat.Β
βWhy donβt you grab some breakfast real quick, Yuji? Then weβll get started.βΒ
He peeled away, drawn to the scent of sugar like a moth to flame, and behind your back came the cacophony of reunion as if it had been years and not yesterday since his classmates had seen him last. You smiled as NanamiΒ stood, the gentleness in his expression already evaporated. Not unkind, butΒ compartmentalized.Β
His warmth was not meant for you. But rather than snubbed, you feltΒ undeniably endeared by such uninhibited paternal adoration.Β
βYou must be Mr. Nanami,β you greeted amicably, a hand alreadyΒ outstretched to grasp his with a welcoming tilt of your head. He met yourΒ handshake with a firm grip, and you self-consciously tightened your own. βIβve heard a lot about you.βΒ
βAll good things, I hope.βΒ
His voice was low β husky with fatigue but smooth enough to suggest that this was just the way he always sounded. He looked tired. Moved likeΒ heβd made peace with it. You figured heβd just been designed that way βΒ quiet, composed, and just slightly too serious for a room filled with googlyΒ eyes and glitter glue.Β
βOnly the best,β you assured with a smile.Β
There was a small pause. Not awkward β just considered.Β
βThank you,β he said at last. βYuji speaks about you often. Itβs clear heΒ feels safe here.βΒ
It was rare to receive gratitude for your efforts with your students, and rarer still for it to be delivered with such conclusivity. Non-effusive,Β Nanamiβs appreciation was simply a fact, a fact which made it feel all theΒ more sincere in its lack of grandiosity.Β
Your smile softened. βThat means a lot. Heβs a great kid, you must beΒ really proud.βΒ
βI am.β
Just like that, it passed β his gaze shifted briefly behind you and hisΒ mouth twitched, a convection between an exasperated smile andΒ down-turned fluster, already slipping past you. βYuji! Wash your handsΒ before eating if youβre going to pet the dogββ * The morning began in earnest not long after you pressed a conciliatoryΒ coffee into Nanamiβs hands. Chairs shuffled and screeched into a half-circleΒ and name tags were peeled from their sticker sheets and affixed to breastΒ pockets, labels, scrubs, and sleeves. You ran a quick welcome with your own steaming espresso in hand (god knows you needed it) before handing theΒ floor over to the parents.Β
Suddenly your second grade classroom was a parade of bladeless scalpels and stethoscopes, a menagerie of machinery and manicure sets. LaughterΒ bloomed bright and uninhibited in the kids as each grown-up took their turnΒ in the spotlight, answering questions as palatably as possible for their innocent audience.Β
You knew one mother was a cardiovascular surgeon, but in front of the class she simply said, βI help hearts feel better when theyβre sick,β folding aΒ model valve between her fingers. The lawyer in the corner β slim briefcaseΒ at his feet, a heavy gavel making its rounds like a party favor β told themΒ he made sure βbad guys went to jail.β No mention, of course, of the murderΒ trial heβd wrapped up the week prior.Β
You encouraged questions, and your students β bless their lack of tact βΒ took you at your word. The shy ones curled against a parentβs leg withΒ owlish eyes, while the bolder kids launched a barrage of increasinglyΒ personal inquiries: Has anyone died? Have you ever been to jail? Has yourΒ dog ever peed in the fire truck? You did your best to redirect the worst ofΒ them, gently steering the conversation away from blood and bladder-relatedΒ incidents.Β
And through it all, Nanami watched it unfold. Tucked into one of theΒ red plastic chairs youβd borrowed from the snack table, he looked like heΒ might snap the thing in half just by breathing too hard. His limbs folded into reluctant submission up toward his chest, tragically origamied, the entireΒ chair tilting forward with each shift. Heβd finished his coffee by then andΒ now quietly sipped on a comically tiny juice box.Β
Stone-faced, but not indifferent. His gaze tracked each speaker withΒ judicial interest. And when the air grew too thick with awkward silenceΒ after a hesitant finish, it was Nanami who occasionally lifted one long armΒ to ask a polite question β enough to nudge things back into motion and, you suspected by the nature of some of his questions, simply to satisfy his ownΒ curiosity of the subject. You liked him for that.Β
βAlrightβ¦!β You clapped your hands. βYuji, why donβt you send your dad up here next?βΒ
Yujiβs eyes blew wide, his mouth popping open in an exaggerated βOβ,Β then he swung at Nanamiβs arm, batting at him and tugging on his sleeves.
βGogogo!β he whisper-shouted.Β
Nanami looked up at you and you smiled. You spread your arm wide with a flourishing βthe floor is yoursβ gesture.Β
Nanami stood, unfolded himself and his ensemble with a smooth brushΒ of his palms over the fabric. He stepped forward to take your place at the front of the room and you happily shifted aside, sitting upon the corner ofΒ your desk and crossing your ankles.Β
From where he stood, a paper caterpillar peered just over the top of hisΒ head with big wobbling eyes.Β
He straightened the cuffs of his jacket and adjusted his tie, pinching theΒ pristine Windsor in his palm and hiking it up to his throat. He scanned the room, meeting eyes, chin down-tilted to examine his under four-foot tall crowd.Β
βI work in finance,β he began. βSpecifically, I manage assets and performΒ risk assessments on financial portfolios to ensure return on investment,Β primarily through domestic and international equities.βΒ
A long silence followed. One of the kids in the corner let out a tinyΒ sniffle.Β
Unperturbed, Nanami pressed on. βWhat that means is I analyzeΒ companies and determine whether it is strategically sound to invest moneyΒ in their future operations. I also track market fluctuations and performΒ cost-benefit analysis on various classes of stock.β
You saw it happen in real time β the eyes of your students glazing over like the sticky donuts theyβd grubbed from the table. Even a few parents tilted their heads, bewilderment blooming in the stitch of their brows asΒ though suddenly realizing theyβd forgotten something on the stove.
One girl leaned sideways to whisper to her mother, βIs he saying math?βΒ
Yuji was practically vibrating in his seat. Elbows on his scuffed knees,Β chin in both hands, he stared up at his father with the full, undilutedΒ adoration of a boy watching his hero. Nanami couldβve explained theΒ intricacies and importance of counting grains of rice and you were sure YujiΒ still wouldβve looked at him like heβd hung the stars himself.Β
If Nanami realized his audience was all but lost to him, he didnβt seem toΒ show it. Not when he turned around to face the white board to erase theΒ cheerful doodles of the water cycle drawn by the meteorologist whoβd gone before him, nor when he uncapped a black marker and began sketching outΒ a meticulous diagram β boxes and arrows, sloping trend lines in red andΒ blue, neat little yen symbols penned with paradigm precision.Β
He spoke the whole while, low and steady, detailing the invisibleΒ scaffolding that held up the adult world: markets, investments, value overΒ time. He laid out the bones of capitalism, and at points showed his trueΒ feelings toward the structure with how heβd slice and jab the marker toΒ make particularly impassioned points. You got the impression thisΒ particular machine was one he raged against often.Β
βAnd that,β Nanami concluded, recapping the marker and adjusting hisΒ tie again, βis the basic structure of my work in a securities firm. ThankΒ you.βΒ
Silence.Β
Yuji led the charge. Loud, earnest applause that rang out in sharp claps,Β his face split in a grin wide enough to rival the sun. A few other childrenΒ joined in, more from peer pressure than understanding, while a mother near the back whispered to another nearby: βGod, heβs quite serious, isnβt he?β To which the other nodded, βItβs kind of hot.βΒ
You had to agree.Β
You clapped along with them, encouraging the display until it naturally died down. βThank you, Mr. Nanami! That wasβ¦ incredibly thorough!β You beamed, he looked at you sideways. βDoes anyone have any questions for Mr. Nanami?βΒ
You hadnβt expected a single hand to raiseβ¦ except maybe Yuji. But heΒ instead whirled around in his seat, pleading with wide brown eyes and aΒ trembling lip for any excuse to keep his dad at the center of attention.Β Because really, what would a bunch of second graders want to know aboutΒ stock exchange or insider trading? But to your delight, one by one, tinyΒ hands shot up like spring sprouts.Β
Nanami, too, looked taken aback. He gestured to a boy in the second row.
βDo you have a dog?βΒ
Nanami blinked. ββ¦ No.βΒ
There was a ripple of dissatisfaction at that. You saw him shift hisΒ weight to the opposite leg as he called on a young girl.Β
βAre you rich?βΒ
βDepends on how you define it,β he said.Β
βDo you go to the gym?βΒ
ββ¦ Yes.βΒ
βOhhh,β someone whispered, followed by a murmur of approval as ifΒ this, at last, was finally relevant information.Β
Then the questions poured in:Β
βCan you lift a car?βΒ
βDo you fight robbers?βΒ
βWhatβs the strongest thing youβve ever punched?βΒ
βCan you fight my dad?βΒ
Nanami blinked once. You watched him recalibrate his entire moralΒ framework in real time.Β
βI donβt make a habit of fighting peopleβs fathers,β he said.
βBut could you?β
That made the corners of his mouth twitch β enough that you could tellΒ he was debating the ethics of indulging a six-year-oldβs thirst for chaos.Β
βI suppose if your father were endangering others, and all other optionsΒ had been exhaustedββΒ
Helpfully, Yuji shouted: βHe could! I know he could!βΒ
You saw that boys father shrink in the back, a sickly sallow overtaking his face. He clearly didnβt fancy his odds.Β
Nanami glanced at you like he was seeking diplomatic extraction. YouΒ gave him a bright, innocent smile and shrugged your shoulders. HeΒ shouldβve predicted this larger than life reputation set forth by his son withΒ that statistical brain of his.Β
βTheyβre very engaged,β you whispered, and he gave you a look that could only be described as deeply disappointed.
Mercifully, after three more questions about whether he could punchΒ through a wall, you finally stepped in with a laugh, clapping your hands to wrangle the brewing chaos. βOkay, okay! Letβs all thank Mr. Nanami for visiting and giving us a peek into his very responsible, very serious job.βΒ
The children groaned their disappointment, already half-convinced heΒ must moonlight as a superhero, but they still chorused their thanks withΒ sticky-fingered enthusiasm. By the end, there was a suspicious sparkle inΒ Nanamiβs eye that made you think he may have liked the attention moreΒ than he let on. * By the time the final parent wrapped up and the dismissal bell rang, your kids and their short attention spans had all but forgotten about NanamiΒ standing in the back of the room, arms crossed against a tall cabinet, clearlyΒ having forsaken his small seat.Β
You dismissed your class one by one, sent off with folders tucked,Β backpacks zipped, and final reminders about homework and forgotten lunchΒ boxes as small groups filtered out of the door. The glitter remained in every corner of the room, as did the smell of bleach and acetone from an unfortunate and entirely predictable accident with the fire dog.Β
Yuji bounced over to collect his things, tugging at his fathers sleeve asΒ they turned to go.Β
βYou forgot to tell them about the time you beat that cursedββΒ
Nanami coughed. ββBudget shortfall,β he said, the words surgically clipped in two.Β
Yuji frowned. βThatβs not what I was gonnaββΒ
βCursed budget shortfalls,β Nanami repeated. βThey can be quiteΒ aggressive.βΒ
Yuji pulled a face, eyes narrowed suspiciously and scampered off toΒ barter holographic stickers by the cubbies. A friend had gotten a shinyΒ tiger, which was decidedly much cooler than his dinosaur.Β
Nanami hovered by the door a respectful distance from you, his gazeΒ drifting across the emptying classroom. A couple of rogue pencils layΒ belly-up beneath desks. Someone had left their water bottle weeping ontoΒ the reading rug. There was a half eaten donut hooked over the pot of yourΒ plant on the windowsill. It seemed he was just as interested in where hisΒ son spends his day as the students were in where the adults usually spentΒ theirs.Β
You watched him quietly. There was something about Nanami Kento that drew you β nothing overt, not even that he had a nice face. But there wasΒ something soβ¦ artificial about his authenticity. He presented himself as aΒ boring man, dressed in boring colors, with a boring job, and had a voice thatΒ could probably put you to sleep. The type that probably ate oatmeal forΒ breakfast every day, and bland conbini meals on the train home everyΒ evening. Itβs like he was trying to be unassuming, to snag noΒ second-glances.Β
Frankly, you thought that it was bullshit.Β
Your intuition was sharp. You knew when your students stole from eachΒ other, and could sniff out the culprit in record time. You knew when the dogΒ had actually eaten someone's homework, or if theyβd just forgotten it atΒ home. There was something more to Nanami, and you wouldβve picked atΒ that thread if you had more time to do soβ¦ but curiosity would not kill the cat today.Β
But there would be other days.
βThank you for coming,β you said instead, a sly smile in the Cheshire curlΒ of your lip. βYou made quite the impression.β Maybe more on you than on the kids.Β
βIβm not sure thatβs a compliment,β Nanami said.
βOh it is,β you beamed, gesturing to the boardroom-esque diagram stillΒ drawn on the whiteboard. βI think I may be teaching the next generation of stock brokers and market analysts here.βΒ
Nanami grimaced, turning his shoulder away to scrub a hand over hisΒ face. βIt was a cautionary tale,β he tsked. βThey should find something thatβsΒ worth doing. Like meteorology. Or baking. Anything but office work.Β Teaching is a much more rewarding and worthwhile occupation.βΒ
There it was. The little glint of something more. A cautionary tale ofΒ slipping into monotony and tedium, suffering a daily slog with no end inΒ sight, a mere cog in a machine that nobody would notice if it suddenly brokeΒ off the belt. Your students would notice your absence. Their parents too, ifΒ only because of the inconvenience. But who would notice Nanami, one manΒ in a suit standing on a train full of other men in suits?Β
βWellβ¦ it made Yujiβs day,β you suggested, softened β not sharp β with conviction. βIn fact, heβs going to talk about this until summer break, I can already tell.βΒ
A preternatural stillness took the business-casual mannequin as heΒ looked over at his son β all spiky pink hair, too-big puffer jacket, trading upΒ his stickers with enough business savvy to make Nanami proud.Β
Eventually he sighed, heavy like heβd been holding it in all day as heΒ adjusted the strap of his watch. βHe mentions you at home,β he said again.
You smiled, no less warmed by the repetition than you were the first time.
βHeβs a pleasure to have in class, honestly. Iβm really amazed by howΒ well he settled, most kids struggle to acclimate butβ¦β you watched as Yuji hopped in a circle, one shoe on as he wrestled with the other. βNot him!βΒ
Nanami gave a small nod, his gaze still fixed outward but you reckonedΒ his attention was much closer.Β
βApparently you give out gummy stars.βΒ
ββ¦ Only for exceptional behavior,β you said with a wide grin. βOr sometimes for being unusually charming.βΒ
That got you a glance β dry, inscrutable.Β
βThen I imagine heβs amassed quite the hoardβ¦ and I have you to blame for the frequent sugar highs.βΒ
You werenβt not flirting with him. Subtle enough to fly over his head if he chose not to acknowledge it, and you had no intention of pushing your luck much further. It was a small miracle youβd met the man behind theΒ mythos at all. But you couldnβt resist a final parting shot.Β
You turned and stood on your toes, reaching for a wicker basket stashed high on a shelf, rifling through crinkly cellophane wrappers to procure oneΒ such gummy star. You held out your hand β and found yourself pleasantlyΒ surprised when Nanami reached out to accept it.Β
βFor exceptional behavior,β you declared. Or for being unusually charming.Β
He regarded the gummy with an expression you couldnβt read, his mouth a neutral set frown that youβd noticed seemed to just be his defaultΒ expression. He didnβt speak, not until his fingers creaked closed around theΒ treat and retreated into his pocket.Β
A win, you think. One glittering, citrus-sugar coated win.Β
βThank you.βΒ
You merely smiled, gracefully bowing out of the tentative curiosity youβdΒ cast in his direction, just in time for Yuji to veer back towards you both.Β
You said your goodbyes and your βsee you next weekβs, then with oneΒ hand swinging Yujiβs backpack and the other resting steadily atop his head,Β the last of your stragglers stepped out into the sunny hallway.Β
You watched them go.Β
The gummy star was still in Nanamiβs pocket.Β
And you were still smiling like a fool.














