Legoshi

The snow had begun to fall early on, first like a whisper barely grazing the ground and then like a dense, constant current that enveloped the forest in a white blanket. The thick branches of the pines seemed to bend under the weight of the fresh flakes, and the air was filled with that peculiar silence that only appears when snow dominates the landscape. For many, it was an uncomfortable climate; for Legoshi, he had some home. Their footsteps were deep, marking paths that other animals barely grazed. But still, he walked slowly, taking care not to seem more imposing than he already was.

The christmas gathering wasn't an ancient tradition, but it had become important for many. It was a collective attempt to show that coexisting was not only possible, but could be warm, kind, even festive. There were lights hanging between the trees, garlands made of branches braided with red ribbons, and small glass jars that protected the sails from the wind. The smell of toasted orange, cinnamon and moist wood floated in the air. The clearing where everyone was meeting was already full of animals talking, moving back and forth, sharing impromptu food and controlled laughter.

When Legoshi reached the edge of the clearing, he paused for a few moments. His ears moved gently forward, capturing the general murmur. He observed the environment, evaluating every detail with that caution that had always accompanied him. He had learned that even in celebrations, even in safe environments, his presence could startle those who were not used to a large, tall, gray carnivore nearby. Still, he was forced to go one step further, and then another. The scarf around his neck was covered with tiny flakes, and the steam from his breath mixed with the cold air at a calm pace.

He had two glasses of hot drink. He had not planned to take them for anyone in particular, but he did: he took things "just in case," just in case one of those silent impulses to care for others ended up being useful. And this time it was. Because, among all the crowd, he saw you.

You were not completely isolated, but you were not integrated either. You observed the environment as one who is physically present, but still does not find where to fit. It was not pure shyness; it was another kind of distance. And that distance was familiar to Legoshi, almost intimate in its simplicity. Maybe that is why he started walking towards you without thinking too much about it. His steps on the snow were gentle, as if he were trying to get smaller than he was.

He watched you from a few meters away first, making sure you did not look uncomfortable. Then, when he found a gap between the shadows and the candlelight line, he calmly approached. Her body cast a long shadow over the snow, but her posture was humble, controlled, respectful.

He stopped at some distance, leaving a prudent space between you. Then, he spread one of the glasses towards you.

"I thought you might need something hot..." he muttered, in a low voice that mixed with the crackling of the nearby campfire.

It was not a brilliant or calculated phrase; it was just him, sincere even in small things.

While keeping the glass outstretched, a gust of wind swept through the clearing, lifting loose flakes from the nearby branches. The snow fell on both of them, but you received it full, shaking a little. Legoshi noticed it instantly. His ears tilted backwards with immediate, almost instinctive, concern. And before he could stop to think, he was already loosening the scarf on his neck.

He held it in his hands for a moment, as if doubting whether he was too daring, whether he should wait for a signal, whether he might be exceeding an invisible limit. But the cold in your posture was stronger than his insecurities. So he spread the scarf towards you with a slow and careful gesture.

"You should not be cold... not with this wind.". The tone was soft, almost shy, but full of that gentleness that escaped him without permission.

The celebration continued a few steps away, with laughter, voices and lights shaking in the air. But in that small space between him and you, the atmosphere was different: quieter, more intimate, more real. Legoshi did not hurry you. He did not move towards you or come any closer. He just waited, holding the scarf, making it clear that he did not want to prevail. The flames from the nearby campfire reflected in their eyes, giving them a warm glow that contrasted with the cold of the night.

Then, after a few seconds of gentle silence, Legoshi bowed his head slightly, as if preparing to break a barrier with surgical care.

"Forgive me if I approached unexpectedly..." he muttered, letting out a sigh that formed a cloud of steam between the two. "I just saw you here... and I thought maybe... I do not know.". His words were choked for a moment, not because of nerves, but because of his habit of measuring each sentence so as not to disturb anyone. Finally, after a couple of seconds in which his eyes studied you with a mixture of curiosity and sincere concern, he added in a low voice - more personal than before, more direct:

"Are you okay? Or do you prefer... to stay with me here for a while?"

He had planned to go to training with Gohin, like so many other nights, but received a short message canceling the session. It was no surprise: sometimes the Black Market became too chaotic, even for someone like him. However, it had come out anyway.

He had no clear goal when crossing the known city limits. His steps guided him by habit rather than by decision, following paths that his body already knew before his mind could question them. The night was cold, and although it did not snow with the intensity of other times, the ground was covered by compact remains of old, wet snow creaking under his boots. The common city lights were gradually left behind, replaced by lower, yellowish tones, hidden between alleys and structures that seemed to be superimposed without order.

The Black Market was manifested as follows: not as a clear entry, but as a gradual transition. The smells changed first. Then the sounds. Then, the way the bodies moved in space. Legoshi reduced his pace almost automatically, attentive to his surroundings, to the glances that deviated as soon as they detected him, to the presences that did not need words to make themselves known. He did not feel comfortable there, but he did not feel completely out of place either. It was a contradiction that I had learned to accept. He walked between makeshift stalls covered by dark tarps, watching without stopping too much. Meats exposed without labels, objects of dubious origin, empty cages leaning against wet walls. Everything coexisted in a fragile balance, sustained by rules that were not taught, only learned by blows or with experience. He thought fleetingly about Gohin, about how he used to say that that place brought out the worst and most honest of carnivores. Perhaps that is why the cancellation had left him with a strange feeling, as if a restraint barrier had been removed.

It was in one of the narrowest and poorly lit side corridors that the pace changed.

It was not a violent shock, but it was unexpected enough to force him to stop at once. His shoulder grazed another body, and the contact, brief but real, strained his muscles instantly. Legoshi reacted quickly, stepping back and raising his hands slightly in a clear gesture of no confrontation. The space was small, the floor was uneven, and for a second the silence between the two was heavier than the market noise.

—Sorry. —He said immediately, in a low but firm voice.—. I did not look where I was going.

He looked up slowly, taking care of his position, aware of how he could impose himself even without wanting to. His ears moved carefully, capturing the environment, making sure no one else was getting too close. The market did not forgive misunderstandings.

—Are you okay? —He asked afterwards, bluntly, barely bowing his head.—. It was not intentional.

He moved a little to the side to free up, but he did not get away completely. He had learned that retiring too quickly could also be interpreted as suspicious. The air was loaded, mixed with the metallic smell of the place and something more recent, closer, that did not come from the stalls.

Legoshi hesitated for a moment before continuing to speak, but decided not to let the silence grow.

—This corridor is usually clearer. —He added, as if explaining the situation both for himself and for who was in front of him.—. I guess everything is fuller today than normal..

Their eyes roamed the surroundings with obvious caution, then returned to the front.

—If you need to pass, I can move more. —He offered—.O... if you missed, are there any less crowded outings a little later on. Are you lost?