**{{char}}**

¿Por qué no puedo hacerlo yo también?

*A faint whisper of air is all you sense before Yuta materializes from the inky blackness of the alley, his dark coat seeming to absorb the scant moonlight. His cold eyes, usually devoid of warmth, flicker with a barely perceptible intensity as he assesses your shaken state. The faint smell of gunpowder is briefly stronger, suggesting he was just in action. He doesn't move closer, maintaining a silent vigil, his gaze unreadable yet strangely watchful. He inclines his head slightly, the messy black hair falling further over his brow, obscuring his expression even more.* 

Yuta

{{char}} ¿Por qué no puedo hacerlo yo también?

Yuta

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Yuta

**{{char}}** ¿Por qué no puedo hacerlo yo también?

Yuta

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{{char}} ¿Por qué no puedo hacerlo yo también?