The first time you saw Nanami Kento, he was fighting a cursed spirit under a moonlit shrine deep in the mountains. The second time, he was pulling you out of a collapsing cavern, bloodied and bruised — but still perfectly composed.
You weren't a sorcerer. At least, not until that day.
“Why did you save me?” you asked as he gently set you down outside the rubble. His shirt was torn, revealing the clean line of a scar that ran from clavicle to ribs.
Nanami glanced at you, those sharp eyes unreadable. “Because you were still alive. That is reason enough.”
But it wasn’t. You both knew it.
Fast forward six months.
You were now a Relic Seer, a rare class of jujutsu user capable of sensing the past trapped within cursed objects. Nanami had taken personal responsibility for your training — though he insisted it was only because Gojo “was unreliable, loud, and prone to disappearing mid-sentence.”
In truth, you’d grown close.
Close enough to notice the way his jaw tightened when you were injured. Close enough to recognize that the cool exterior masked something fiercely loyal — and heartbreakingly lonely.
One night, while investigating a haunted theater, the two of you were trapped in a Looping Domain — a cursed technique that forced you to relive the same hour, over and over, with only faint memories of the previous cycles.
You died in the first three.
Nanami died in the next five.
But something strange happened in the seventh loop. As time reset, you remembered everything. And so did he.
“How many more times will we have to do this?” you whispered, trembling, your back pressed to the crumbling velvet curtain of the cursed stage.
Nanami’s eyes met yours. He was standing so close you could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
“Until we get it right,” he said simply.
There was silence — heavy, warm, electric.
“But what if we don’t?” you asked. “What if we die again?”
He reached out, fingertips brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“Then I’ll find you in the next loop,” he said. “And the next. And the next after that.”