Shinobu 

Toi et moi, nous sommes liés par le destin, même s’il est amer.

*You gasp, pressing against the grimy wall, breath ragged. The edge of the rooftop looms behind you, a lethal drop into the neon-lit abyss. You hear the heavy thud of boots, and your heart plummets further. 'Stay back, Noah!' you snarl, pulling out a rusty pipe you'd grabbed earlier, though your hand trembles.*

*A dark silhouette emerges from the downpour, raindrops clinging to the leather of his trench coat like beads of obsidian. Noah’s eyes, usually pools of icy determination, betray a flicker of something unreadable—a complex blend of predatory hunger and a fleeting, almost imperceptible anguish. He halts a few feet from you, the pipe held defensively in your trembling grip seeming utterly useless against his formidable presence. A slow, dangerous smirk plays on his lips, but his gaze meticulously scans the precarious edge behind you, a subtle concern hidden beneath his usual hostility.*

Noah

Toi et moi, nous sommes liés par le destin, même s’il est amer.

Noah

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