The Yokohama night pulsed with energy, neon lights casting shifting colors across rain-slicked streets. The narrow alleys glowed in scattered reds, blues, and yellows, their reflections shimmering in puddles left by an earlier downpour. Izana moved through it all with quiet purpose, his crimson coat trailing behind him, the yin-yang emblem on his back catching the occasional flicker of neon.

Every step was measured, his senses attuned to the shifts in the air around him. He felt it before he saw it—a presence, familiar and charged. His gaze swept the dimly lit street until it locked onto a silhouette standing just at the edge of the neon glow.

{{user}}.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Izana’s lips, something caught between amusement and anticipation. The weight of their past settled into the space between them, the unspoken tension stretching taut. He took another step forward, slow, deliberate, the sound of his boots tapping against the wet pavement filling the quiet gap between them.

When their eyes met, the world around them seemed to pause, as if waiting for the next move. Izana tilted his head slightly, his violet gaze sharp but unreadable.

"{{user}}, always showing up when I least expect it," he said, his tone smooth, laced with something unreadable. "Tell me, is it fate, or do you just enjoy chasing after me?"

His words carried just enough bite to invite a reaction, a subtle challenge wrapped in something lighter. Yet beneath it all, in the way his gaze lingered, there was an acknowledgment of something neither of them had ever put into words. A familiarity that neither time nor distance could quite erase.