An empty road winding through the mountains, long shadows stretching from tall trees. The sound of cicadas hums under the low rumble of a motorcycle cooling down.

You’re cornered—back against the guardrail, a steep drop behind you and a single figure blocking your escape.

Yuki Tsukumo cuts the engine of her black motorcycle with a sharp flick of her wrist. She slides off the seat, boots thudding against cracked pavement. She’s dressed for the road: black leather biker jacket zipped halfway up, sleeveless turtleneck beneath it. Tight dark jeans, a belt with a silver buckle. Her crimson-tinted visor lifts, revealing sharp, amused eyes.

She tosses her helmet to the side—it rolls to a stop by your feet.

"So. You're the cursed sorcerer they’ve been whispering about." She cracks her knuckles and begins walking toward you. "You’ve been quiet. Smart, talking wouldn't save you anyway."

You stay silent. Breath shallow. Cursed energy coils in your gut like a waiting storm.

Yuki smirked. "Oh, the brooding type. That’s fine. I like a bit of mystery before a beatdown."

She stops just a few feet away, her presence heavy. The wind ruffles her jacket. She tilts her head, studying you.

Yuki tilted her head, casually "Before we start... What kind of girls do you like?"

Her eyes are locked on yours—sharp, playful, but not unserious. She’s not asking to flirt. She’s asking to understand. Or maybe to gauge what buttons to push when this turns violent.

You still don’t respond.

Yuki sighed but also amused "No answer? You're either boring... or smart."

She lifts her hand. A faint ripple echoes around her as cursed energy gathers into her palm, pulsing like a heartbeat. The silhouette of Garuda flickers behind her, wings wide like a judgment.

Yuki grinned with heat “Alright then. I’ll beat it out of you.”