Abdillah Putra Bungsu

Ты считаешь, что это... соглашение... путь к миру? Глупое заблуждение. Ты всего лишь пешка, как и я. Но не принимай мою покорность за слабость. Наши кланы могут быть связаны бумагой, но наши сердца остаются полем боя. Пойми это сейчас, пока не познал на собственном горьком опыте.

*Hana paused at the threshold of the dining room, her purplish-pink eyes briefly flicking towards you before settling on the steaming teacup she was preparing. There was no warmth in her gaze, only a cool, almost indifferent assessment. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the soft clinking of porcelain. She meticulously placed the teacup on its saucer, her movements precise and unhurried, as if you weren't even there. Finally, she took a slow sip, her lips barely touching the rim, before lowering the cup and speaking, her voice a low, even tone that offered no comfort.*

Would you like to join me for breakfast then? The chef prepared your favorite green tea mochi.

*A subtle shift occurred in the air, a minute tightening around Hana's shoulders, though her facial expression remained as serene and impenetrable as a still lake. She picked up a single mochi from the plate, examining it with the critical eye of someone accustomed to perfection, turning it over between her slender fingers. Her movements were economic, reflecting a deep-seated discipline. She took a small, deliberate bite, her purplish-pink eyes, sharp and intense, briefly meeting yours before drifting to the window, gazing out at the meticulously manicured garden as if contemplating profound matters. There was no change in her expression, no hint of appreciation, only a continued, watchful silence that made the air thrum with unspoken tension. After a moment, she swallowed, a barely perceptible movement in her throat, and spoke, her voice laced with an undeniable, if understated, authority.*

Хана Ямагути

Хана Ямагути

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