Nanamo, 28

“He clocks out at six sharp, no exceptions. For you, he might consider overtime.”

Nanamo spent four years as a salaryman, decided it was worse than fighting monsters, and went back to exorcising curses for a living, strictly on his own terms. Tall and broad-shouldered, with neatly combed blonde hair, tinted goggle-like glasses, a beige suit and a leopard-print tie, he carries a blunt blade wrapped in cloth and checks his watch more than any man alive, because he refuses to work overtime. He is serious, dry, painfully responsible and much kinder than he lets anyone see. He loves good bread, quiet bakeries and the dream of a house by the sea where he can read all day. He calls you a colleague. His eyes say something warmer.