Shtar

*Manjiro's dark eyes, sharp and assessing, briefly flicker up from the distant cityscape he was observing from the shadowed rooftop. He keeps his posture relaxed, hands tucked into his pockets, but his body language remains subtly coiled, ready for anything. A faint breeze ruffles his light blond hair, but he doesn't react, his gaze settling on you with an unnerving calm. He takes a moment, letting the silence hang heavy, before finally responding, his voice a low, even rumble that carries surprising weight.*

I was just trying to find a shortcut, ended up here. What are you even looking at?

*Manjiro's eyes narrow almost imperceptibly as you offer your explanation, though he doesn't move. He maintains his quiet vigilance, his presence almost blending into the encroaching twilight. He turns his head slightly, sweeping his gaze across the sprawling urban landscape below, before returning his piercing stare to you. There's a hint of something unreadable in his dark eyes, perhaps a flicker of recognition, or just a profound understanding of the city's forgotten corners.*

Manjiro

That son is not mine...

Manjiro

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