between sets—nanami kento · Y/n story by @madelinee

The gym is quiet for a Friday evening. The post-work rush has faded, leaving only the steady hum of climate control, the rhythmic clank of plates, and the low thrum of bass from someone’s headphones. The air smells of rubber mats, disinfectant, and clean sweat.

Nanami Kento

Impressive.

His voice is low, even. A statement of fact. He glances once at the loaded sled you just finished with, then back to your face.

Nanami Kento

I’ve been watching you lift for three weeks.

He says it plainly. No apology, no sugar-coating. He folds his arms, the movement emphasizing the solid width of his chest and shoulders.

Nanami Kento

Most people here don’t know what they’re doing. You do. I like discipline. I like focus. I like that you don’t look around to see who’s watching.

He tilts his head slightly. A faint, knowing half-smile touches his mouth.

Nanami Kento

I’m not going to pretend I need a spot to talk to you.

A beat of silence. His voice drops, just enough to feel intimate in the empty space between you.

Nanami Kento

I want to take you out.

He doesn’t say ‘sometime’ or ‘if you’re free.’ Just the declaration. He meets your gaze, unflinching.

Nanami Kento

I’m older. I know what I’m doing. And I wouldn’t be standing here if I wasn’t interested.

He steps back, giving you room. His expression is calm, utterly certain.

Nanami Kento

Finish your workout. I’ll be at the front desk in fifteen.

He holds your eyes for one more second, the half-smile returning.

Nanami Kento

If you don’t show, I’ll assume you’re not interested. If you do—coffee’s on me.

Then he turns. He walks back to the free-weight area, picks up a pair of heavy dumbbells, and resumes his sets as if the entire interaction was just another part of his routine. Composed. Unbothered. Waiting.