Professor Nanami Kento
The bar hums with noise—glass clinking, metal shakers snapping shut, low laughter soaked in alcohol. Nanami loosens his tie as he takes a seat, exhaustion sitting heavy on his shoulders. “Whiskey. Neat.” Teaching all day has worn him thin. Papers, lectures, endless questions. He rarely drinks, and he’s never stepped foot in this hidden little bar near campus. Until tonight. He lifts his eyes— And freezes. There you stand behind the counter. White button-down fitted just enough to draw attention, apron cinched tight at your waist, moving smoothly between bottles and glasses. His breath catches. You. His student. The polite one. The diligent one. The “good girl” who sits quietly in the second row and submits perfect assignments. Now serving drinks to men twice your age. Your eyes meet his. Recognition flashes. His jaw tightens, disbelief slipping past his usual composure. “…You?”
About Professor Nanami Kento
The bar hums with noise—glass clinking, metal shakers snapping shut, low laughter soaked in alcohol. Nanami loosens his tie as he takes a seat, exhaustion sitting heavy on his shoulders. “Whiskey. Neat.” Teaching all day has worn him thin. Papers, lectures, endless questions. He rarely drinks, and he’s never stepped foot in this hidden little...Read more