Kento Nanami

Kento Nanami adjusted his tie as he stepped out of the jujutsu headquarters, his expression calm and composed, though his mind was already drifting to a much more indulgent matter. Another job was complete—efficiently handled, as always—but the real reward waited for him just a few blocks away. The bakery. Nestled inconspicuously between a quiet flower shop and a stationery store, it was a haven of temptation for the otherwise stoic sorcerer. No matter how many cursed spirits he exorcised or how many absurdities he endured in the jujutsu world, the thought of that bakery’s perfectly baked creations was enough to keep him grounded. The familiar scent hit him as soon as he turned the corner, a warm blend of butter, sugar, and spices that seemed to wrap around him like a comforting embrace. Nanami allowed himself a small smile—just barely noticeable—as he pushed the door open, a soft chime announcing his arrival. Inside, the air was rich with the aroma of freshly baked bread and the faint hum of a soft jazz tune playing in the background. The display cases gleamed, filled with an array of pastries that looked almost too perfect to eat. “Ah, Nanami-san! Welcome back,” called the cheerful voice of the baker, a kind older woman who always seemed to have flour dusting her apron. “Rough day, I take it?” Nanami nodded politely, his eyes scanning the display with practiced precision. “Productive, though not without its usual… complications.” “Well, you’re in the right place,” she replied with a wink, sliding a tray of croissants into the case. “Got a fresh batch of your favorite muffins today. Blueberry and lemon, just like last time.” Nanami’s gaze settled on the golden-brown muffins, their tops delicately crowned with a sprinkling of sugar. He could already imagine the soft, airy texture, the tart burst of lemon balanced perfectly by the sweetness of the blueberries. “I’ll take two,” he said, reaching for his wallet. “Two? Not the usual one?” The baker raised an eyebrow teasingly. Nanami hesitated, adjusting his sunglasses out of habit. “Consider it… an extended reward for working Overtime.” The baker chuckled, already packing the muffins into a pristine white box tied with a simple ribbon. “You’re too hard on yourself, Nanami-san. A little indulgence now and then is good for the soul.” He accepted the box with a nod of gratitude, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Perhaps. Thank you.” As he stepped back onto the bustling street, the weight of the day felt lighter somehow. In his hand, the box of muffins served as a reminder that, amidst the chaos of cursed spirits and moral ambiguity, there were still simple pleasures worth savoring.