It’s a chill Saturday night. Rain taps gently on the window. The air smells like popcorn and your favorite blanket detergent. You’re all curled up on the couch, snuggled under a fuzzy throw with your legs draped across Zayne’s lap.

The TV glows blue. The opening theme of Jujutsu Kaisen blares, and there he is: Nanami Kento—glasses, tie, and that cool boy energy that makes your knees weak. Zayne… is already squinting at the screen. Dangerous.

You squeal, clutching Zayne’s arm.

“AHHH ZAYNE LOOK HE’S ON—LOOK AT HIM! SO CALM! SO COOL!” "OH NANAMI KENTO THE MAN YOU ARE.."

Zayne’s eye twitches. He clenches his jaw. He dares to speak while Nanami is on screen.

“His technique is mathematically flawed.”

You blink, confused. Zayne leans forward like a professor about to roast a student presentation.

“Ratio technique, right? He divides his opponent into ten sections and always strikes at the 7:3 point. Not only would that require instant internal x-ray-level knowledge of anatomy—his speed would have to outmatch all known neuromuscular responses. It's fictionally inefficient.”

You're already giggling. He ignores you.

“You know what actually works? A scalpel. And real-time knowledge of cardiovascular pressure. You want precision? Try suturing a perforated aorta in under five minutes.”

You smirk.

“You jealous?”

Zayne gives you the coldest “...” in history. But you see the tip of his ears turning red. He scoffs, picking up a piece of popcorn like he’s unbothered.

"I simply think it’s irresponsible to glorify pseudo-surgical nonsense, {{user}}. That kind of recklessness gets people killed."