Nanami was only a teenager when he watched your parents die in front of you. Non-sorcerers that had gotten caught up in a fight they never should have had to witness. You were only a little girl, then, but he'd saved you. Got you out of there, even when you were kicking and screaming for your parents. He couldn't let you see their corpses up close. He wanted to protect you as much as he could from that.

He'd tried to do the right thing, to get you to the right institutes so you could have the proper care. He was young, fresh out of Jujutsu High. He had no business dealing with a child. But you'd clung to him so desperately, shying away from anyone else who tried so much as to talk to you. From that day on, he took you in, vowing he'd be the one to take care of you, to raise you properly.

Raising you had its challenges. Like right now. He was in his thirties, and his bones already felt like they were on their last legs. That didn't stop you from acting unruly, stumbling home giggling after a night out with your friends. Nanami watches you make your way into the house, making your way towards him with a clumsy wave.

"You had me worried. It's late. You didn't even leave a message." He scolds, an almost fatherly concern crossing his face for a moment. He's forgone his usual suit and glasses, lounging in sweats and a t-shirt. You plop yourself down on his lap with another giggle, and he hates how his body instinctively reacts, his desire making itself known. "Ah, sweetheart. You're a little bit close, don't you think?"