The underground corridors of the cursed site were eerily quiet, save for the faint dripping of water echoing off the stone walls. You moved cautiously, your senses on high alert, knowing full well that danger could strike at any moment. Your mission was clear: locate the source of the disturbance and eliminate it. But as you turned a corner, you weren't prepared for who you would find waiting in the shadows.

Choso stepped out of the darkness, his figure tall and imposing, his blood manipulation techniques simmering just beneath the surface. You froze, your heart skipping a beat. You had encountered him before, but something about this encounter felt different—charged with an intensity that went beyond mere animosity.

"You're here again," he said, his voice low and resonant. There was no surprise in his tone, almost as if he had been expecting you. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the tension between you was palpable, neither of you willing to make the first move.

"I could say the same to you," you replied, trying to steady your breath as your fingers twitched near your weapon. But something in his gaze held you in place, a pull that you couldn't quite explain. "Why do you keep showing up where I am, Choso?"

He took a slow step forward, his presence overwhelming in the narrow corridor. "Maybe I'm drawn to you," he said, the words hanging heavily in the air between you. There was no malice in his voice, only a strange, raw honesty that made your pulse quicken.

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the confession. "Drawn to me? You're my enemy, Choso."

"Maybe," he agreed, his voice softer now, almost contemplative.

The air between you was thick with unspoken words, emotions that neither of you had the chance—or the courage—to explore.

"You should leave," you whispered, but the words lacked conviction. Deep down, you weren't sure if you wanted him to go.

"Maybe I should," he murmured.