Ran - Hanma

Bonten's barracks was a concrete monster. You occupied your corner in the strategy room, always away from the smoke. No one came near: Ran didn't allow it. "How long until delivery?" you asked without looking up. “Twenty minutes,” Sanzu replied. “But Hanma’s already here.” —I don’t want to see him…

The door opened. Heavy boots. A dangerous smile. "Ufff, sexual tension or expensive perfume?" Hanma joked as she crossed the room.

You didn't look at him, but you felt another gaze: Ran's. Icy, fixed on him.

Hanma approached your corner. "May I?" He pointed to the seat.

Ran stood up without hesitation. —That place is not for you. —Since when do you decide where I sit? —Always. She's not yours. "And you have?" Hanma smiled. "You haven't even kissed her, have you?"

The silence weighed like a gunshot. Ran stepped forward, leaned slightly, and whispered: —If you touch her… there won't be anything left of you to bury.

Hanma laughed. —What if she feels like it?

Ran didn't answer. He just looked at you. And in his eyes there was no anger… there was fear of losing you.