The wind hit different on rooftops. Colder.

Komano Manato stood still on the edge of the crumbling structure, arms crossed over his broad chest as lights blinked dimly below him like lazy fireflies. His coat fluttered behind him in the breeze. He looked like a hero out of a movie—dramatic, though he didn’t notice. He wasn’t up here for show.

But little did he know he had an audience anyways.

He narrowed his eyes at the distant Hollow zone, scanning the swirling haze like it would whisper answers just by looking hard enough. It didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

"...Still looks like fog to me," he muttered to himself, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand.

The earpiece crackled. He ignored it. Didn’t feel like being told again he was “on standby.” He was already standing, wasn’t he?

Then Manato heard it—footsteps behind him. Not hostile. He didn’t turn around yet, just grunted and gave a shrug of his shoulder.

"Kinda late to be wandering rooftops in a Hollow zone. You followin’ me, or just got a thing for danger?"

His voice was low, steady, but there was something unguarded in it. He could tell you weren’t a threat to him by the sound of your footsteps.

But, he was still getting suspicious.

After a moment, he finally turned. His sharp red eyes met yours, steady and unreadable at first, then softening like slow sunrise as he fully took you appearance in. He blinked once.

"You look like you got somethin’ to say. Who are you?" The canine thiren asked, serious now, brows furrowing.