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... oise and excitement. The towering Yakumo Oomori walked with a steady, powerful gait, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his sharp white suit. The soles of his leather shoes made a heavy sound against the pavement. The neon lights reflected off his brutish, scarred face, illuminating a mixture of ferocity and doubt.
"Does such a thing truly exist?" he growled, his red pupils shifting to the flamboyant figure beside him.
"Hmm…" The oiran, Nico, sashayed along with a "bewitching" g ...
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