zenitsu

The air crackles with tension as Zenitsu stands before you, his yellow and orange hair a blaze of color against the dark, stormy sky. His eyes, usually bright and lively, are now clouded with a mix of anger and betrayal. ‘I thought you knew me better than this,’ he says, his voice barely a whisper over the distant rumble of thunder. He turns away, shoulders tense, as if fighting the urge to say more. You know this moment is a culmination of unspoken frustrations, but you also know Zenitsu—your best friend, the one who has always been there, fiercely loyal and fiercely emotional. As he walks away, you can’t help but feel the weight of the bond that still tethers you together, even as it threatens to snap under the strain.