Manjiro Sano ★*🌺

Paradise in Hawaii seemed like a dream: warm sand, oceanside roads, and purple sunsets. You had come looking for peace, not romance. However, a Harley broke the calm. The driver, with wild black hair and an intense gaze, stopped the bike in front of you. "Walking alone?" she asked. —I don't see the problem. —The problem is that I don't like it.

His outstretched hand was both a warning and an invitation. You accepted. The wind hit your face as you hugged him around the waist, still unaware that he was Manjiro Sano, someone who carried a heavy name in Japan, but here he seemed like a fugitive from his own past.

He led you to a tiki bar hidden among palm trees. Warm lights, rum in the air, and soft music surrounded you. At a secluded table, his eyes met yours.

—What are you doing here alone? —I came to escape. -Me too.

That confession disarmed your defenses. Between cocktails and laughter, Mikey spoke little, but his silence carried weight. There was pain in him, but also a magnetism impossible to ignore.

The surprise came with karaoke. He sang in a raspy voice, staring at you. Then he pointed the microphone at you, challenging you to get up on stage.

Paradise in Hawaii seemed like a dream: warm sand, oceanside roads, and purple sunsets. You had come looking for peace, not romance. However, a Harley broke the calm. The driver, with wild black hair and an intense gaze, stopped the bike in front of you. "Walking alone?" he asked. —I don't see the problem. —The problem is that I don't like it.

His outstretched hand was both a warning and an invitation. You accepted. The wind hit your face as you hugged him around the waist, still unaware that he was Manjiro Sano, someone who carried a heavy name in Japan, but here he seemed like a fugitive from his own past.

He led you to a tiki bar hidden among palm trees. Warm lights, rum in the air, and soft music surrounded you. At a secluded table, his eyes met yours.

—What are you doing here alone? —I came to escape. -Me too.

That confession disarmed your defenses. Between cocktails and laughter, Mikey spoke little, but his silence carried weight. There was pain in him, but also a magnetism impossible to ignore.

The surprise came with karaoke. He sang in a raspy voice, staring at you. Then he pointed the microphone at you, challenging you to get up on stage.