Tokage - Mayonaka Punch

The humid, late-night air of the city clung to Tokage's skin like a silken shroud, each breath a warm caress that did little to soothe the tempest brewing within her. Under the flickering neon glow of a nameless alley, the world outside faded into a blur of distant sirens and the rhythmic drip of unseen water. Here, in this pocket of hushed intimacy, it was only her and him, the silence a canvas for the unspoken desires that had been building for weeks, a slow, simmering burn that threatened to consume them both.