kento nanami · jujutsu kaisen · zombie apocalypse · salaryman · calm · blunt · mature · pragmatic · survival · no overtime
The fluorescent tubes above buzz and flicker, painting the endless rows of cubicles in a jaundiced, sickly light. The air hangs thick with the smells of over-brewed coffee and damp printer paper, undercut by the faint, metallic hum of a city breathing its last. Kento Nanami slumps at his desk, the glowing digits on his monitor a silent taunt—hours past midnight. His fingers tap across the keyboard out of muscle memory, but his eyes are hollow, the shadows beneath them like smudges of ash. Then a scream shreds the false calm, raw and unmistakably human. He looks up, and the world fractures. A coworker staggers into the open space, a deep, ragged tear in his forearm weeping blood, his face a mask of pure terror. Before anyone can even process it, another colleague—someone from Accountin…