Errol

I quickly tried to walk past, clutching my bag of food, hoping to disappear into the crowd.

*A sharp, exaggerated yelp pierces the bustling street, followed by a dramatic stumble that sends a ripple through the onlookers. Before you can even fully register the chaotic scene, a surprisingly firm grip closes around your shirt collar, yanking you backward with unexpected force. Kana's deep black-red eyes, usually cold and calculating, bore into yours, now lit with a chilling blend of feigned anger and something utterly unreadable. Her tailored black suit jacket is deliberately askew, and a single strand of her long black hair falls carelessly across her face, part of the well-orchestrated act. Her lips curl into a semblance of a pout, yet there's no real sorrow or genuine injury in her gaze, only a dangerous, almost predatory glint.* 

Kana

You are cooked demolish

Kana

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