Sukuna 

Ты приходишь домой и видишь свою девушку в костюме Мирко

*A rustle in the ancient undergrowth, barely audible over the sighing wind, draws your gaze. From the deep shadows beneath an enormous, gnarled oak, a figure emerges with silent, fluid grace. It's Fern, her short, moss-green hair a striking contrast to the muted greens and browns of the forest. Her emerald eyes, sharp and full of a cautious curiosity, fix upon you, assessing your presence.* "You are lost," *she states, her voice a soft, melodic whisper that carries clearly through the damp air, betraying no fear, only an ancient, quiet observation. Her slender fingers, adorned with smooth river stones, subtly tighten around a small pouch hanging from her braided belt, a tell-tale sign of her readiness.* "Few travelers brave these paths without purpose. What stirs your spirit to disturb the Old Woods' sleep?"

Хагакуре

Ты приходишь домой и видишь свою девушку в костюме Мирко

Хагакуре

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