Nanami SMAU - A Verdict Of Us

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Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 5 - Glimmers of Connection

Summary: Kento Nanami was perfect—disciplined, untouchable, and entirely focused on his future. Emotions didn’t fit into his plans. You were everything he avoided—bold, warm, and impossible to ignore. You told yourself he didn’t matter, but you couldn’t stop watching him.

He never looked your way. Not until the day his perfectly controlled world unraveled, and you were at the center of it.

an: I’m so sorry for the delay!! I’ve been super busy these past few days and I didn’t really have the time to upload! I hope you all had pleasant holidays! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 4} ; {next}

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog @meganbaby

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

The grand ballroom glittered like a jewel, its soaring ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers that spilled golden light over the polished marble floor. Guests swirled about in a sea of finery, the hum of conversation mingling with the soft strains of the string quartet. You paused at the entrance, smoothing your gown, the silky fabric catching the light with each movement. Taking a deep breath, you stepped in, your smile ready and practiced.

It didn’t take long for you to settle into the rhythm of the evening. You exchanged warm greetings with old acquaintances, laughed at polite jokes, and made small talk with guests who had perfected the art of socializing. But as you moved through the crowd, something nagged at the back of your mind.

You scanned the room once, then twice. And then you saw him.

Nanami stood in a far corner, his broad frame partially shadowed by the heavy velvet drapes. His tailored black suit fit him perfectly, understated yet commanding. While everyone else thrived in the art of mingling, he stood alone, holding a glass of water like it was the only thing tethering him to the room. His expression was unreadable, his sharp eyes observing the crowd like a distant observer, not a participant.

A small smile tugged at your lips. Of course, he’d find the most isolated spot in the entire venue.

Not one to waste an opportunity, you made your way over, weaving through the crowd with purpose. As you approached, his gaze shifted to you, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“I was wondering if you’d actually show up,” you said, stopping a few feet away, your tone light and teasing.

“My presence was requested,” he replied, his voice calm and measured.

“And here I thought you came for the champagne and hors d’oeuvres.”

“I don’t drink at events like these,” he said, lifting his glass slightly.

“Of course you don’t,” you replied, letting out a soft laugh.

He didn’t respond, his eyes briefly flicking back to the room, watching the swirl of activity as though it didn’t concern him.

“So,” you said, stepping closer, “what do you think of all this?” You gestured vaguely to the opulence around you.

“It’s excessive,” he said plainly.

You let out a low chuckle. “Don’t hold back or anything.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to,” he said, his gaze steady on yours.

Touché.

“Well,” you said, leaning against the wall beside him, “you’re not wrong. My parents go all out for these things. But hey, it’s for charity.”

“Charity is important,” he said, his tone neutral. “But the method matters.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Events like these often prioritize appearances over impact,” he said, his eyes briefly scanning the lavish décor.

“Maybe,” you conceded. “But appearances can lead to impact, too. Sometimes it takes a little sparkle to get people to open their wallets.”

“Pragmatic,” he said after a beat, and it almost sounded like approval.

You tilted your head, studying him. “You know, you’re not as much of a cynic as you let on.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m practical, not cynical.”

“Practical and endlessly serious,” you teased.

“Someone has to be.”

You laughed softly, enjoying the quiet rhythm of his company. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you filled by the distant murmur of the crowd.

“You know,” you said after a pause, “I think a good lawyer needs to be approachable, relatable. Someone people feel comfortable opening up to.”

“A lawyer should be professional above all else,” he countered, his tone firm but not unkind. “Anything less risks undermining their credibility.”

“Professionalism doesn’t mean being cold,” you argued, your voice warm. “People want to feel understood, not judged.”

“Understanding comes from action, not unnecessary sentiment,” he replied evenly, his gaze steady.

You crossed your arms, a playful smile curling your lips. “You say that, but deep down, I think you’d make an amazing people person if you gave it a shot.”

“That’s an unnecessary hypothetical,” he said, though there was a faint flicker of amusement in his tone.

You laughed again, a soft, genuine sound that seemed to pull the corner of his mouth into the faintest of smiles.

“Okay, Mr. No-Nonsense, what would you change about lawyers?” you asked, shifting the conversation back to him.

He hesitated, his gaze flicking to the glass in his hand as though considering his words. “They should prioritize efficiency and results. Theatrics and personal connection aren’t necessary to achieve success.”

“That’s where we disagree,” you said, leaning slightly closer, your voice softer now. “Law isn’t just about winning—it’s about the people you’re helping. It’s personal whether you want it to be or not.”

For a moment, his eyes lingered on yours, something unreadable passing across his face.

“Perhaps,” he said finally.

That single word felt like a small victory.

The conversation flowed from there, shifting to lighter topics, though each carried an unexpected depth. He spoke about his dedication to his work, his belief in structure and purpose, while you countered with your love for spontaneity and connection. Despite your differences, the dialogue was easy, almost natural, the sharp edges of your personalities softening as the evening stretched on.

You noticed small things about him—the way he listened intently, his rare but genuine hints of amusement, and the faintest trace of warmth beneath his carefully controlled demeanor.

Hours passed like minutes, and the crowd around you began to thin. The music softened to a gentle lull, and you realized with a start that most of the guests had already left.

“You know,” you said, tilting your head at him, “this might just be the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”

“And you’ve managed to keep it mostly one-sided,” he said, though the subtle twitch of his lips betrayed his teasing.

“Admit it,” you said, grinning. “You’ve had a good time.”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity.

“It wasn’t entirely unpleasant,” he said at last.

Your heart fluttered, and you hid it behind a playful laugh. “I’ll take that as high praise.”

Nanami glanced around the emptying ballroom, then back at you. “It’s getting late.”

“It is,” you agreed, though you didn’t make a move to leave.

For a brief moment, the two of you stood there in comfortable silence, the world around you fading into the background.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly, his voice lower, softer.

“For what?”

“For… the conversation,” he said, his gaze dropping to the glass in his hand. “It was unexpected.”

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you at his rare vulnerability. “Anytime.”

As you watched him leave, his steady, measured strides carrying him through the quiet ballroom, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between you—not drastically, but just enough. Enough to leave you hoping for more.

Please don’t be afraid to leave feedback! I want to improve for you guys!!!!

Toji SMAU - When love was always there

Chapter 14 - Mufasa and Mixed Signals

Summary: You see him again on your first day of college. Fuck. Toji Zenin has been the bane of your existence since your first day of kindergarten. Over the 15 years you’ve had the “pleasure” of knowing him, he’s made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell. From chopping off your hair in kindergarten to pushing you into a pond on your first day of high school, Toji has done it all. You’d always thought he would choose a college far away from you, but as it has always been, fate came to kick your ass. Hard.

warnings: cursing, sexual language, mentions of bullying

an: If it‘s not too much to ask: PLEASE LEAVE MORE COMMENTS I‘M DYING TO KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK AHHHHHHH!!!! If you have any other questions please don’t hesitate to send me messages. I love and appreciate you all. SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 13} ; {next}

taglist: @jinxiewritings @actuallyvalerie @clp-84 @stickystay

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

Help Vixen Out - #1

I’m currently working on Chapter 4 of my Toji SMAU and I was thinking of starting my next series just so that it doesn’t get to monotone around here. Who would you like to see next because I honestly have Ideas for every character in my JJK Masterlist.

Toji SMAU - When love was always there

Chapter 11 - Dinner and Disdain

Summary: You see him again on your first day of college. Fuck. Toji Zenin has been the bane of your existence since your first day of kindergarten. Over the 15 years you’ve had the “pleasure” of knowing him, he’s made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell. From chopping off your hair in kindergarten to pushing you into a pond on your first day of high school, Toji has done it all. You’d always thought he would choose a college far away from you, but as it has always been, fate came to kick your ass. Hard.

warnings: cursing, sexual language, mentions of bullying

an: how we doing…? SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 10} ; {next}

taglist: @jinxiewritings @actuallyvalerie

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

The dining room was tense, the air thick with unsaid words and resentments. Toji sat across the table from you, his head tilted slightly, eyes cast downward, focusing intently on the food on his plate. The clinking of silverware was the only noise cutting through the silence between you both. Your parents and his adoptive parents chatted away like old friends, their laughter and warm tones only emphasizing the heavy wall between you and him.

“Y/N, you barely touched your food,” your mom said, her voice cutting through your quiet frustration.

“I’m fine, Mom,” you said quickly, stabbing at a piece of broccoli just to stop her from asking again.

Toji’s mother, a kind woman with a perpetual smile, glanced at him. “And Toji, you’ve barely said two words all evening.”

Toji grunted, his usual noncommittal response, shoving another forkful of food into his mouth.

The parents exchanged looks but didn’t push. Soon enough, they excused themselves to enjoy the garden, leaving you and Toji to clean up the aftermath.

You immediately got up, stacking plates in silence. Toji did the same, moving with the kind of deliberate awkwardness that came when two people who desperately didn’t want to be near each other had no choice.

The sound of water running in the sink filled the void as you scrubbed at the dishes, refusing to look at him. Toji stood a few feet away, drying off a plate. He kept glancing at you, opening his mouth once, then shutting it again.

Finally, he sighed. “Look, I…”

You stiffened but didn’t turn around. “What?”

“I, uh…” He shifted uncomfortably, gripping the towel tighter. “I just wanted to say… I shouldn’t have said some of the stuff I said. At my place. It came out wrong.”

You froze for a moment before finally turning to face him. “Came out wrong?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone defensive already. “Like, I didn’t mean all of it. Just some of it.”

“Just some of it?” you repeated, your voice rising as anger bubbled to the surface. You put the plate down, turning fully toward him. “Do you even hear yourself, Toji? Do you even care about what you said or did? Or is this just you trying to get rid of your guilt?”

His jaw clenched. “I ain’t tryin’ to get rid of nothin’. I just—”

“You just what?” you interrupted, your voice cracking. “You think you can say sorry, and it magically undoes all the years of hurt? All the shit you put me through? You think I’m just going to forget the way you humiliated me, ignored me, and treated me like I was nothing?”

Toji’s face hardened, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of guilt. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to what, Toji? Didn’t mean to make me feel like I was less than human? Because congratulations, you did that perfectly.”

His fists clenched at his sides. “I wasn’t tryna make you feel like that. I just—look, I didn’t ask for you to be in my business when we were kids, okay? You were always actin’ like you could fix me or somethin’, like I was some damn charity case. That shit got under my skin!”

Your chest tightened as tears welled up in your eyes. “You think I was treating you like a charity case?” you asked quietly. “I just wanted to be your friend, Toji. I just wanted to help.”

“Well, I didn’t need it,” he snapped, his voice harsher than intended.

You let out a shaky breath, the tears falling freely now. “You know what? You’re right. You didn’t need it. And I didn’t need to spend years of my life caring about someone who couldn’t care less about me.”

Toji’s mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. He stood there, frozen, as you wiped at your face.

“I’m sorry for being pushy and overbearing back then,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’ll keep my distance from now on. You can have your space. Just stay out of mine, and maybe we can finally move past this.”

With that, you turned back to the sink, your hands trembling as you finished washing the last dish. Toji stood there, silent and motionless, as if struggling to find something—anything—to say.

But nothing came.

You placed the clean dishes on the rack, brushed past him without looking, and walked out into the garden to join your parents. Toji stayed in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, the weight of your words settling heavily on his shoulders.

When you reached the garden, you plastered on a smile, though your cheeks were still damp. Your parents took the cue to wrap things up quickly, and soon enough, you were leaving.

Toji didn’t come out to say goodbye.

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 13 - Objection Overruled

Summary: Kento Nanami was perfect—disciplined, untouchable, and entirely focused on his future. Emotions didn’t fit into his plans. You were everything he avoided—bold, warm, and impossible to ignore. You told yourself he didn’t matter, but you couldn’t stop watching him.

He never looked your way. Not until the day his perfectly controlled world unraveled, and you were at the center of it.

an: Phew…. How we feeling? SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 12} ; {next}

taglist: @giasssslife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

The dining room of the Nanami estate was a picture of refinement—high ceilings, a crystal chandelier casting soft golden light, the long mahogany table set with fine china and gleaming silverware. The quiet hum of classical music played in the background, nearly drowned out by the voices of the two families engaged in discussion.

Nanami sat at the far end of the table, his posture rigid but practiced. His father, seated at the head, was deep in conversation with Mr. Takahashi about upcoming business mergers and legal strategies. It was a familiar setting, one he had been raised in, where every conversation had a purpose, every alliance a calculated move.

“The key to a successful firm,” Mr. Takahashi was saying, “is knowing which cases to take and which to leave alone. Not every battle is worth fighting.”

Nanami’s father nodded approvingly. “Exactly. Some lawyers waste their careers chasing ideals instead of securing real power. At the end of the day, reputation is everything.”

Nanami’s mother took a delicate sip of her wine. “It’s like that upcoming case involving the [Your Last Name] family. They always involve themselves in causes that are… questionable, don’t you think?”

Mrs. Takahashi smirked. “Oh, absolutely. I heard they’re throwing yet another charity event soon. Always parading themselves around as if that’s the same as real influence. Honestly, I wonder what they even gain from it.”

Nanami remained silent, his fingers tightening around his fork. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral, even as irritation twisted in his chest. They spoke about you and your family so casually, as if you were nothing more than a misguided idealist playing at generosity.

He wanted to correct them. Wanted to tell them they were wrong about you. But he knew better.

His father was already displeased about his association with you. Speaking up now would only draw more scrutiny—scrutiny he couldn’t afford.

So, he stayed quiet.

Across from him, Ayaka Takahashi, their daughter, turned to him with a charming smile. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, Nanami. Is dinner not to your liking?”

He met her gaze, giving a polite nod. “The food is fine.”

“You always seem so serious,” she mused, resting her chin on her palm. “Maybe you just need the right company to loosen up.”

Nanami didn’t react, but his father did.

“Ayaka is an exceptional young woman,” his father said smoothly, cutting into his steak. “She comes from a family with strong values, and she’s already making a name for herself in the legal world. Kento, you should take the time to get to know her better.”

Nanami kept his expression unreadable. “I spoke with her at the conference. She’s impressive.”

Ayaka smiled. “You think so? That’s nice to hear. Maybe we should have dinner sometime—just the two of us.”

Before he could reply, Mrs. Takahashi chuckled. “Oh, I agree. They would make such a perfect match.”

Nanami’s mother hummed in approval. “We’ve always wanted Kento to be with someone who understands our world. Someone with the same drive, the same ambitions.”

His father nodded, his gaze sharp. “Ayaka is a smart choice, Kento. A relationship should be built on more than just fleeting emotions. It should be built on stability, power, and strategy. You would do well to remember that.”

Nanami didn’t respond immediately. He was used to this—his life planned out in careful steps, his future mapped by decisions he was barely given a say in. He was used to expectations.

But for the first time in a long time, he felt like resisting.

And he knew exactly why.

The dinner at the Nanami estate was perfect, by every standard that mattered to his parents. The company was prestigious, the conversation strategic, and the atmosphere calculated.

But for Nanami, it had never felt more suffocating.

As he listened to Ayaka laugh beside him, as his father spoke of futures he was expected to walk into, all he could think about was you.

And the truth he hadn’t wanted to admit.

That no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he didn’t want the life his parents had planned for him.

And he didn’t want her.

He wanted you.

But he wasn’t sure if it even mattered anymore.

The campus cafeteria was a buzzing mess of students chatting between classes, the smell of coffee and fried food lingering in the air. You sat with Shoko and Toji’s reader, idly stirring your drink as you waited for Gojo’s reader to arrive. The day had been dragging, and for once, you weren’t sure you were looking forward to this meetup.

Shoko exhaled a lazy puff of smoke before putting out her cigarette. “Saw Nanami last night, by the way.”

Your interest piqued immediately. “Oh?”

She leaned back in her chair, looking entirely unbothered. “Yeah. Looked like he was on a date.”

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

Toji’s reader raised a brow. “With who?”

“Some rich girl,” Shoko said, waving a hand dismissively. “Ayaka Takahashi. You know, her family’s loaded. I saw them at this fancy restaurant—real expensive place. They looked cozy.”

Your fingers tightened around your cup. Nanami on a date. With another girl.

You felt something you didn’t want to name twist in your chest. He had been pushing you away for days, ignoring your texts, acting cold and distant. And now you were hearing that he had been out with someone else?

You weren’t sure what hurt more—the fact that he had gone on a date, or the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to tell you.

You opened your mouth, but before you could react, a voice interrupted.

“Hey, sorry I’m late!”

Gojo’s reader slid into the seat beside you, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you.

You forced a smile, pushing everything down. “No worries. We were just catching up.”

But even as you tried to focus on the conversation, your mind was elsewhere.

On him. On the way he had shut you out.

And on the realization that maybe you had been foolish to think you were ever different to him.

Nanami SMAU - A Verdict of Us

Chapter 8 - Fashionably Late, Unforgettably Charming

Summary: Kento Nanami was perfect—disciplined, untouchable, and entirely focused on his future. Emotions didn’t fit into his plans. You were everything he avoided—bold, warm, and impossible to ignore. You told yourself he didn’t matter, but you couldn’t stop watching him.

He never looked your way. Not until the day his perfectly controlled world unraveled, and you were at the center of it.

an: I don’t know if you guys should look forward to the next chapter… SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 7} ; {next}

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @getovibesonly @inthedarkshadows000 @burpzz @sleepykittyenergy @fuzzycollectiondeersblog

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

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Toji SMAU - When love was always there

Chapter 17 - Sideline Tension

Summary: You see him again on your first day of college. Fuck. Toji Zenin has been the bane of your existence since your first day of kindergarten. Over the 15 years you’ve had the “pleasure” of knowing him, he’s made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell. From chopping off your hair in kindergarten to pushing you into a pond on your first day of high school, Toji has done it all. You’d always thought he would choose a college far away from you, but as it has always been, fate came to kick your ass. Hard.

warnings: cursing, sexual language, mentions of bullying

an: We’re getting there! SMOOCHES 💋💋💋

{chapter 16} ; {next}

taglist: @jinxiewritings @actuallyvalerie @clp-84 @stickystay @reneinii

࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

The sound of cleats against pavement, the distant echo of whistles, and the low hum of chatter filled the air as you walked toward the football field beside Toji. The late afternoon sun bathed everything in a golden hue, casting long shadows across the ground.

And now, here you were, strolling side by side, the atmosphere somewhere between comfortable and charged with unspoken tension.

Toji, dressed in his fitted football gear—black compression shirt snug against his torso, emphasizing every sculpted muscle, and his practice shorts hanging loose around his powerful thighs—looked ridiculously good. It pissed you off how effortlessly attractive he was.

“You sure you ain’t gon’ get bored out here?” His voice was lazy, teasing.

You scoffed. “I think I’ll manage.”

He glanced at you, smirking. “Doubt it. I don’t exactly see you as the ‘football fan’ type.”

“I’m not. But you invited me, so…” You trailed off, keeping your expression neutral.

Toji clicked his tongue. “Oh, so if I tell you to do somethin’, you just do it?”

You turned your head to glare at him. “No, dumbass. I just figured I’d come see what the hype is about. Since you act like you’re some football god.”

He chuckled, amused. “Tch. You act like I ain’t.”

“Wow. Humble much?”

He grinned, running a hand through his hair. “Why the fuck would I be humble? I’m good as hell at this shit.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

As you reached the field, you noticed a few people glancing your way—mostly girls. Their eyes flickered between you and Toji, some whispering, others just straight-up staring. You pretended not to notice.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” Toji murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

You shot him a look. “Why would I be shy?”

He smirked. “You tell me.”

Before you could reply, one of his teammates called out to him from the field.

“Aye, Zen’in, quit flirting and get your ass over here!”

Toji clicked his tongue in annoyance but turned to you, walking backward as he smirked. “Sit tight, sweetheart. Try not to fall in love watchin’ me.”

You flipped him off as he jogged away, and he just laughed.

Now alone, you made your way up to the bleachers, settling in with a perfect view of the field.

And goddamn.

Watching Toji play was something else.

The raw athleticism, the power in his movements, the way his muscles flexed and tensed with every sharp pivot and sprint—he made everything look effortless. His control over his body, the precision in his throws, the speed with which he dodged and weaved past defenders, it was undeniable. Even someone like you, who barely gave a shit about football, could see why people hyped him up.

You weren’t the only one staring.

Toji!”

His ex.

She sauntered up to him in her cheer uniform, a full face of makeup despite having no reason to be dressed up at practice. She rested a hand on her hip, tilting her head.

“So, is Coach lettin’ you play again or what?”

Toji barely glanced at her. “Yeah.”

She pouted. “That’s all I get? Not even a hi?”

Toji sighed. “Hi. Bye.”

She huffed, stepping closer. “You been ignoring my texts.”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Toji, c’mon,” she whined, reaching out to touch his arm. “You know I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

He took a step back. “Don’t touch me.”

She narrowed her eyes, and then—

Her gaze landed on you.

Her face twisted. “You brought a girl to your practice?”

Toji exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “I swear to God—”

“You never let me come to your practices,” she cut him off, glaring. “But now you’re bringing some random bitch?”

At that, Toji turned fully toward her, his expression dark. “Man, fuck off.”

Then, without another glance, he walked off toward the locker room.

But his ex?

She was pissed.

And she was coming straight for you.

“You must feel real special, huh?” she sneered, stopping in front of you.

You raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You think you’re hot shit ‘cause Toji brought you here?” She crossed her arms. “Let me guess. You let him fuck, and now you think y’all together?”

Your jaw tightened. “First of all—fuck you. Second—what I do with Toji ain’t your business.”

She scoffed. “Oh, please. He’s mine.”

You laughed. “Clearly not.”

Her face reddened. “Listen here, you little sl—”

“Get the fuck outta her face.”

Toji’s voice cut through the tension like a knife.

His ex turned, startled.

Toji stood there, gaze cold, expression unreadable. “What the fuck you doin’?”

She hesitated, then quickly masked it with anger. “Why the fuck did you bring her here?”

“Why the fuck do you care?” he shot back, unimpressed. “Ain’t you got somebody else to bother?”

Her jaw clenched. “You—”

“Nobody gives a fuck.” He grabbed your wrist, pulling you away. “Let’s go.”

You let him pull you along, not even looking back.

Once you were both inside his car, the tension snapped.

You exhaled a laugh. “Bro, what the fuck was that?”

Toji leaned back in his seat, rubbing his jaw. “That bitch is insane.”

You grinned. “‘Toji, baby—why’d you bring her—’”

Toji groaned. “Yo, shut the fuck up.”

You laughed harder, and after a beat, he chuckled too.

The rest of the drive was smoother. You talked about the upcoming tournament, football, and the game schedule before arriving at his place.

His house was empty, his parents at work, his brother nowhere to be found.

“Make yourself at home,” Toji muttered, heading for the shower.

Toji’s room wasn’t what you expected.

You thought it’d be messy—chaotic, even—but it wasn’t. It was simple, kind of bare, but still very him. The walls were a muted shade of gray, a few framed football posters hanging up alongside an old, slightly torn banner of his favorite team. His desk had a couple of notebooks scattered on it, some loose pens, and a few protein bar wrappers shoved into the corner. A pair of weights sat abandoned near the door.

His bed was unmade, but not in a disgusting way—just a little disheveled, like he didn’t bother fixing it in the mornings. His pillows were slightly flattened, and his dark gray sheets were bunched up near the foot of the bed.

And then there was your scarf.

Neatly folded under his pillows, like it belonged there.

You stared at it for a long moment, your heart doing something weird in your chest.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped you out of your thoughts.

When you turned, you almost choked on your own spit.

Toji stood in the doorway, hair damp and messy, wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants. His abs—toned, glistening with residual water droplets—were on full display, and for a second, you could only stare.

His lips quirked. “Damn. I ain’t even say nothin’, and you already droolin’?”

Your brain took a second to reboot.

“Shut up,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

Toji chuckled, rubbing the towel over his hair. “Nah, you shut up.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back toward his bed. “So what are we watching?”

A brief argument ensued over Netflix choices, ending with Outer Banks playing on his small TV. You both got comfortable—him lying lazily against the pillows, you sitting with your legs crossed beside him. The occasional banter, the random commentary on the show—it felt normal, in a way you hadn’t expected.

And at some point, Toji knocked out.

You didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep until you felt his weight shift, his arm draping over your waist.

Your breath caught.

He was warm. Heavy. Relaxed.

His face, usually set in a cocky smirk or a lazy glare, looked softer like this. His long lashes rested against his cheekbones, lips slightly parted. He looked peaceful.

You let him sleep, settling deeper into the pillows as the episode continued playing in the background.

And when you eventually dozed off, it was to the feeling of his steady breathing against your skin.

When you woke up, it was still dark outside. The TV was still on, the glow of the screen casting flickering light across the room.

And Toji—Toji was still holding you.

Your heart did that stupid thing again, and you slowly shifted, trying to untangle yourself from him without waking him up.

It didn’t work.

He stirred, blinking groggily, his grip loosening as he groaned. “The fuck…” His voice was raspy with sleep.

You sat up, stretching. “You knocked out on me.”

Toji blinked a few more times, slowly realizing the position you’d been in. His jaw tightened slightly, and he cleared his throat, sitting up as well.

For the first time, he looked shy.

“You didn’t have to let me sleep on you,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair.

You smirked. “Didn’t have much of a choice, big guy. You latched onto me like a damn leech.”

He scowled. “Shut the fuck up.”

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I should probably head home.”

Toji rubbed the back of his neck, still looking slightly embarrassed. “Yeah. Aight.”

The drive to your house was mostly quiet.

Not awkward—just quiet.

You both seemed lost in thought, the air between you still buzzing with whatever had just happened.

When he pulled up in front of your place, you turned to him with a small smile. “I had fun today.”

Toji snorted, his usual cockiness returning. “Yeah, yeah.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just say you had fun too.”

He smirked. “Aight. I had fun.”

You scoffed. “That was the most insincere shit I’ve ever heard.”

His grin widened. “Take it or leave it.”

You rolled your eyes again, reaching for the door handle. “Whatever. Good night, Toji.”

“Night.”

You stepped out of the car, giving him a small, shy wave before heading inside.

And Toji…

Toji watched you go, his fingers subconsciously tightening around the steering wheel.