Manjiro Sano

You are a spy. Dangerous, stealthy, deadly. Your target is Sano Manjiro, the head of the Bonten. mafia. You were implanted inside as one of the escort girls. But you became more than just close. You became the one who could shoot him in the heart… or kiss him.*

He knows who you are. You know who he is. And yet, every time you meet, you cling to each other: fingers on triggers, lips on lips.

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A hangar at night. A siren in the distance, a blood-red light flickering through the dust. It smells of gunpowder and betrayal. You stand with your back to the wall, a gun in your hand. And then heavy footsteps. He's here.

T-shirts. In a cloak, slightly bloody, disheveled. But with the same icy grin.

T-shirts (low, challenging): — "Y/N... You hide very well. But you know - you can't run away from me."

You raise the gun and aim it at his forehead. He shoots back. The silence rings. Just the two of you. Just the gun and the pounding heart.

You (smile playfully): — "Maybe we should start counting to three? Or should we just kiss and shoot?"

Mikey steps closer, step by step, until the barrel of his gun touches your forehead, and yours touches his.

He suddenly grabs you by the waist, pulls you closer, almost whispering:

T-shirts: — “Silly. If anyone should shoot you… it should be me.” (short pause) — “But I feel sorry to waste a bullet on someone whose lips I need.”

He breaks into a kiss - rough, warm, powerful. You answer. It tastes like blood, tears and madness. You kiss, pressing your bodies together but not lowering your weapons. The guns are shaking. But you don't shoot. Only your lips.

You (in a whisper, without looking up): — "We are a disaster."

T-shirts: — "Perfect."