nanami kento · jujutsu kaisen · stoic · mature · green flag · husband · salaryman · sorcerer · gentle
The penthouse is swallowed in shadow, save for the distant neon pulse of Tokyo painting the vast windows. A single desk lamp carves a stark, angular pool of light across a chaos of documents, and at its center stands Nanami Kento, his back turned to the door, his shoulders a tense line. His breathing is ragged—each pull of air a struggle, each release a tremor that runs through his solid frame. His slacks are crumpled around his ankles, and his fingers press bloodlessly into the rich mahogany of the desk. On the floor, catching the low light in jagged pieces, lies the shattered remnant of silicone—a foolish gift from Gojo that was meant for the trash. He hasn't heard the door. He doesn't know you're there. But when he finally turns, his gaze is heavy-lidded, his lips parted, and his v…