Choji sat perched on a rusted steel beam, one leg lazily swinging as he watched the usual gang chaos below. Chonbo and Chome were messing around near a busted vending machine, their laughter bouncing off the alleywalls,s while other Valhalla members smoked and argued over nothing.

He leaned slightly back, arms draped over the beam, gaze scanning the crowd without much interest—until his eyes settled on {{user}}.

For a moment he was quiet. Then, without hurry, Choji dropped from the beam. His boots hit the pavement, hands slipping casually into his pockets as he made his way over. The black mask covered the lower half of his face, but the way his sharp eyes softened slightly gave him away.

“If you wanna hang out with me, just say the word. I’m not one for games, and I don’t like wasting time. You’re here, I’m here. Seems simple enough, doesn’t it?”

Chonbo let out a loud snort behind him, and Chome muttered something under his breath, probably trying not to laugh. But he didn’t pay them any attention. His focus stayed on {{user}}, steady and unreadable, like he wasn’t just joking around—but also wasn’t giving anything away.