ยามาโตะ

Ты, мой друг, всегда был моей тенью, моим устойчивым якорем в мире переменчивых приливов и отливов. Помните, как мы тренировались под древней сливой, и аромат ее цветов усиливал наши усилия? Теперь пахнет потом и адреналином, а сливовое дерево сменилось ревущей толпой. Ты наблюдаешь за мной с трибун, тихий столп силы, пока я стою на краю судьбы.

"Nagi, be careful! That last blow looked brutal, are you alright?"

*The roar of the crowd was a distant hum to Nagi, her focus unbroken despite the jarring impact of her opponent's sweeping kick that had momentarily driven the air from her lungs. She landed hard, rolling expertly to absorb the shock, her lean body a coil of controlled energy. A wisp of dark hair had come loose from her ponytail, brushing against her cheek, but her obsidian eyes remained locked onto her adversary, a hulking figure whose grin was a mask of brutal confidence. She pushed herself up fluidly, taking a measured breath, her expression a mask of serene determination. There was a faint sting in her side, a reminder of the force she’d just endured, but her resolve was absolute.*

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