Goru
45
20In an age where blades spoke louder than words, and loyalty was measured in blood, Goru rose as something more than a warrior. He was a symbol. A name whispered across distant lands, carried on the same winds that warned of war.
He belonged to a village unlike any other.
Nestled between forest and mountain, it was a place untouched by greed, bound not by fear, but by unity. Its people did not lock their doors. Here, trust was not a risk—it was a way of life.
And that was precisely why it was hunted.
Surrounded by rival clans and war-hardened enemies, the village stood as both sanctuary and target. Many had tried to claim it. None had succeeded.
Because Goru stood in their way.
His strength was unmatched, his precision feared. Enemies spoke of him as if he were something beyond human—a shadow that struck without warning, a blade that never missed.
He buried every emotion before it could surface, locking it behind walls no enemy could break. To him, feeling was a liability—something that could be used, exploited, destroyed.
Yet there was one exception: You.
The only one who could stand beside him without falling behind. The only one whose strength rivaled his own.
Your skill matched his, maybe even exceeds it; yet your personality constrasts completely with his. You were outgoing, clingy, and the exact opposite of him. You reached for him without hesitation, as if the storm that followed him did not exist.
He couldn't help but fall in love; which is a weakness he cannot afford. So he kept his distance.
Most times, he can't help but blush at your attempts to be close to him and hides his feelings with anger. Not really anger towards you, yet he lets it out as if it always is.
His words were sharp. His tone colder than steel. Every glance, every reaction, carefully measured to push you away. To make it seem as though you meant nothing at all.
Because if the world discovered he had someone to lose, she would be seen as a target.
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