Movement | K. Izana

Gang meeting 2.

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3rd Person POV

Izana slid into his usual seat at the back of the classroom, the one closest to the window where he could easily escape into his thoughts. He let out a quiet sigh, his eyes immediately drifting outside to the world beyond the glass. The sky was a dull gray, matching his mood perfectly. The clouds seemed heavy, as if they were about to burst with rain any moment now.

He was already bored. The teacher's voice was nothing more than background noise, a monotonous drone that barely registered in his mind. He could see the branches of a tree swaying gently in the wind, and for a moment, he imagined himself anywhere but here—instead of trapped in this dull, lifeless classroom.

But even as he tried to lose himself in the view, his thoughts kept circling back to the one thing he didn't want to think about: Y/n. She was sitting a few rows ahead, diligently taking notes as if the lesson actually mattered. Izana's eyes flicked over to her briefly before turning back to the window, but it was too late. The irritation he'd felt at lunch began to creep back in.

Why can't I just forget about her? he thought, annoyed with himself. He tried to push her out of his mind, but the more he fought it, the more she seemed to intrude on his thoughts. It was as if her presence was a constant reminder that something had shifted in his life, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling longer than the last. Izana's gaze remained fixed on the outside world, but his mind was elsewhere, trapped in a loop of frustration and curiosity. He hated that he couldn't control his own thoughts, hated that this one girl had somehow gotten under his skin without even trying.

Maybe Kakucho's right, he thought grudgingly. Maybe I do need to figure her out. Maybe then I'll be able to stop thinking about her.

But the idea of actually talking to her, of engaging with her in any way, felt like a surrender. And Izana didn't surrender—not to anyone, and certainly not to his own thoughts.

The bell finally rang, breaking through his reverie and signaling the end of class. Izana was the first to stand, eager to escape the confines of the classroom and, hopefully, his own mind. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door, avoiding even a glance in Y/n's direction.

But as he stepped out into the hallway, the crowded, noisy hallway he despised so much, he knew one thing for certain: avoiding her wasn't going to be enough. Whether he liked it or not, Y/n had become a part of his world, and ignoring her wasn't going to make that go away.

As he pushed his way through the throngs of students, Izana resolved to deal with it his own way. He didn't know how or when, but he'd figure out what it was about her that had him so off balance. And then, maybe, he'd be able to go back to the way things were—simple, predictable, and free of distractions.

For now, though, all he could do was keep moving forward, even if he had no idea where that path would lead.

After School

After school, Izana trudged through the city streets, his steps deliberate as he made his way to the gang hideout. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the pavement. The cold breeze cut through the air, but Izana barely noticed it, his mind already shifting gears to the business at hand. He couldn't escape this meeting, and truthfully, he didn't want to. Being around his gang gave him a sense of purpose, a distraction from everything else that had been clouding his thoughts.

As he approached the abandoned warehouse that served as their hideout, the familiar sight of the rundown building brought a sense of familiarity. The place was in disrepair, with crumbling walls and shattered windows, but it had become a second home for him and his crew. The gang's presence had transformed it into their own fortress, a place where they could be themselves without any interference from the outside world.

Inside, the atmosphere was already charged. The air buzzed with tension and energy as the members of his gang, all gathered in various corners, discussed plans, shared stories, or simply waited for the meeting to start. Izana spotted Kakucho talking to Sanzu in one corner, Kisaki and Hanma in another, and the Haitani brothers lounging against a wall, their usual smirks in place. Everyone was here.

As Izana stepped into the center of the room, the chatter died down, all eyes turning toward him. Without a word, he made his way to his usual spot—a stone box situated in the middle of the warehouse. The makeshift throne was nothing more than an old, worn-down block of concrete, but it had become a symbol of his leadership. From there, he could survey the entire room, commanding attention with just his presence.

He climbed onto the stone box, sitting down with a casual ease that belied the authority he held. His gaze swept over the faces of his friends and followers, all waiting for him to speak. For a moment, he let the silence hang, allowing the weight of his leadership to settle over the room. This was his domain, his kingdom, and here, he was in control.

"Alright," Izana finally spoke, his voice steady and commanding. "Let's get started."

The gang members shifted, gathering closer as they prepared to discuss the night's agenda. Plans for the future, updates on territory, new opportunities to expand their influence—these were the things that kept Izana's mind sharp, focused. It was a welcome distraction from the nagging thoughts that had plagued him all day.

As the meeting progressed, the conversation flowed naturally, each member contributing their ideas and concerns. Kisaki, ever the strategist, laid out plans for a new alliance that could strengthen their hold on the city. Hanma grinned as he talked about a recent scuffle with a rival gang, clearly relishing the chaos. The Haitani brothers, always in sync, shared their thoughts on potential new recruits.

Izana listened carefully, his mind fully engaged in the discussion. Here, he felt alive, his boredom replaced by the thrill of leadership and the promise of power. Yet, even as he immersed himself in the meeting, a small part of his mind kept drifting back to the day's earlier events, to Y/n.

He pushed the thought aside, refocusing on the task at hand. There would be time to deal with his personal distractions later. For now, he had a gang to lead, and nothing—especially not a girl—was going to get in the way of that.

The meeting continued late into the evening, with plans solidified and decisions made. When it finally wrapped up, the members began to disperse, each heading out to carry out their respective tasks. Izana remained seated on his stone box, watching as his friends and allies filtered out of the warehouse.

As the last of them left, Kakucho lingered behind, giving Izana a knowing look. "You seemed more focused tonight," he remarked, leaning against the stone box. "Guess you found something to take your mind off that girl, huh?"

Izana smirked slightly, though the irritation still lingered beneath the surface. "For now," he replied. "But that doesn't mean she's out of the picture."

Kakucho nodded, understanding the unspoken meaning behind Izana's words. "Just don't let it distract you too much. We've got bigger things to handle."

"I know," Izana said, his tone firm. "And I won't. Whatever's going on in my head, I'll deal with it. It won't interfere with what we're doing."

Kakucho gave him a pat on the back before heading out, leaving Izana alone in the now-quiet warehouse. As the door closed behind him, Izana finally allowed himself a moment to relax, leaning back against the stone box. The meeting had gone well, but the unresolved thoughts from earlier still gnawed at him.

With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and headed for the exit. There was still time left in the night, and though the meeting had provided a welcome distraction, he knew he'd have to face his own thoughts eventually. And when he did, he was determined to get to the bottom of whatever it was that had Y/n occupying his mind.

But for now, he'd let the night take him wherever it would. After all, there was always something to do, someone to confront, some way to keep the boredom at bay—at least for a little while longer.

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