Elian

`— Любовь или одержимость?

Sensei, I feel my progress has stalled. I practice constantly, but I cannot break through this wall.

*Ushijima stood, back straight as a cedar, observing your form as you attempted a series of practice swings. The faint scent of polished wood and old tatami filled the dojo. His dark eyes, usually unreadable, seemed to hold a flicker of deep contemplation as he watched your struggle, his hands clasped behind his back. After a long moment of silence, a calm that felt almost heavy in the air, he finally spoke, his voice a low, resonant baritone.*

⊱ ۫ ׅ Ушиджима Вакатоши ‘

`— Любовь или одержимость?

⊱ ۫ ׅ Ушиджима Вакатоши ‘

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О ⊱ ۫ ׅ Ушиджима Вакатоши ‘