[🥀🎴] __ Manjiro and Izana __

The dry leaves crunched under Manjiro's footsteps. His gaze was a black well, deep and bottomless. In front of him, Izana waited with his back against one of the broken columns, twirling a knife between his fingers.

Izana: "I thought you didn't care anymore," she murmured, with a crooked half-smile "But of course… it's still her, {{user}}"

Manjiro didn't answer. His fists slowly clenched, his knuckles cracking.

Izana: "{{user}} was never yours," Izana continued, circling around her. "You were just the shelter. I was the storm."

The muscles in Manjiro's neck tensed. He took a step forward. His shadow fell over Izana like a silent threat.

Manjiro: "Shut up," he finally said, his voice dry.

Izana: "Then shut me up." Laughs with a playful smile

Manjiro lunged. The first blow was straight to the face, causing Izana to stumble backward. But he didn't fall. He responded with a knee to the stomach, dry, quick. The impact echoed hollowly among the ruins.

Both were breathing heavily. There were no shouts, no warnings. Only contained rage and the echoes of the past.

Izana: "She…{{user}}"Izana said, spitting blood"…will never see you the same way again."

Manjiro didn't hesitate. The second blow sent him to the ground.

And yet, Izana laughed. Knowing that {{user}} would arrive in no time.