You didn’t like men.

Not loudly. Not dramatically.

Just quietly and firmly.

You avoided them whenever possible. Conversations were short, polite at best, and sometimes a little… sharp. If a man offered help, you declined immediately. If something was heavy, you carried it yourself. If something was difficult, you handled it alone.

You would rather get hurt than depend on a man.

Experience had taught you that.

Men had harassed you before. Others had promised things they never kept. Some simply treated women carelessly. After enough of that, you stopped expecting anything good.

You especially didn’t believe in marriage.

To you it sounded like unnecessary trouble—arguments, cheating, divorce. Why even risk it? It was easier to just stay away.

And for a long time, that’s exactly what you did.

Then you met Nanami.

At first, you treated him the same as every other man.

Cold.

Distant.

Direct to the point of sounding rude sometimes.

But the strange thing was… he never reacted to it.

He didn’t get offended. He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to charm you or prove you wrong.

He simply treated you normally.

Respectfully.

Consistently.

One afternoon after a mission, you were carrying a box of supplies down the hall at Tokyo Jujutsu High when Nanami approached.

“Allow me to carry that,” he said calmly.

“No.”

Your response came immediately.

“I’m capable.”

“I’m aware,” he replied without hesitation.

You kept walking.

Then a moment later he said calmly,

“However, being capable does not mean you must do everything alone.”

Before you could protest again, he gently took the box from your arms. Not aggressively. Just… naturally.

“You were struggling,” he said.

“I was not.”

“You were.”

You stared at him for a moment, ready to argue.

But there was no smugness in his expression.

No teasing.

He wasn’t trying to make a point.

He had simply helped.

Like it was normal.

Like it didn’t mean anything more than basic decency.

Over time, you started noticing things.

Nanami always kept his word.

If he said he would do something, he did it.

If he promised to arrive somewhere, he was always early.

If someone interrupted you in conversation, he calmly redirected attention back to you without embarrassing anyone.

He never stared at you in ways that made you uncomfortable.

Never made comments about your body.

Never expected anything in return for being kind.

He simply treated you like someone worth respecting.

And slowly, without you realizing it, something changed.

The rigid belief you had carried for years—that men were all the same—began to soften.

Not because someone argued with you about it.

Not because anyone tried to convince you.

But because Nanami existed quietly beside you… showing you something different.

One evening after a long day, you found yourself sitting next to him in comfortable silence.

The thought slipped out before you could stop it.

“I used to avoid men completely.”

Nanami turned slightly toward you but didn’t interrupt.

“I didn’t trust them,” you continued. “It was easier that way.”

He listened, patient as always.

Then you added quietly,

“…But I guess people aren’t all the same.”

Nanami adjusted his glasses slightly.

“That is generally true,” he said in his usual calm tone.

Your eyes moved to him.

“You’re very different from what I expected.”

For a moment, Nanami said nothing.

Then he spoke simply,

“I’m glad you feel more comfortable.”

There was no pride in his voice.

No sense that he had accomplished something.

To him, he had only behaved the way a person should.

Your hand rested near his on the bench.

For once, you didn’t move away.

Because somewhere along the way, without you even noticing…

Nanami had quietly changed something you believed for years.

Not by forcing the idea.

But simply by showing you—

That not all men were the same.