[MARCORY – EARLY MORNING]
The first light of day filters through the gray buildings of Marcory. A motorbike whizzes by in the distance. Horns echo. The city is still asleep… but not YAPO.
He lies on an old mattress in a narrow room. A broken window lets in a ray of sunlight. A rough voice breaks the silence.
AMADOU (off, yelling from outside)
"Yapo! Wake up before the city swallows you whole!"
YAPO jolts awake, falls off the bed, and quickly pulls on his shorts and sneakers. He rushes out.
[EMPTY LOT BETWEEN TWO BUILDINGS – MINUTES LATER]
A small space between two buildings, with cracked concrete floors, rusty fences, scattered tires, and an old radio sitting on a wooden crate. AMADOU stands there, arms crossed, looking serious.
AMADOU
"Welcome to your new jungle."
YAPO (panting, confused)
"We're training here? There's not even a punching bag!"
AMADOU (with a mysterious smile)
"Shut up and listen to the music."
He presses play on the radio. A track begins — a blend of urban beat and coupé-décalé. AMADOU starts moving. His steps are strange — fluid but sharp. He dodges, spins, jumps, as if dancing with invisible enemies.
YAPO (frowning)
"Are you serious? You want me to dance?"
AMADOU (moving to the beat)
"Dance, or stay a punching bag for life."
YAPO sighs and clumsily imitates the movements. He sweats, slips, stumbles. Passersby stop to watch — some laugh, others cheer him on.
[LATER – LATE MORNING]
YAPO collapses against a wall, drenched in sweat. AMADOU approaches calmly.
YAPO (exhausted)
"You made me dance like a maniac… This is your training?"
AMADOU (serious)
"This isn't dancing. It's instinct. It's reading rhythm, movement… control."
He slowly repeats the steps. This time, it becomes clear: every step is a dodge, every slide a feint, every move hides a potential strike.
AMADOU
"This technique… I learned it in the backstreets, where mistakes cost you. I call it: the Predator's Dance. Whoever masters it, owns the space."
YAPO watches, fascinated. He tries the moves again… and this time, they're smoother, more alive.
YAPO (softly smiling)
"The Predator's Dance, huh? Okay… I'm ready."
AMADOU (smiling back)
"Tomorrow, we hunt. But tonight, you're just going to learn to leap."
[MARCORY – LATE AFTERNOON]
YAPO steps out of the run-down training room. His shirt is soaked with sweat, his eyes sharp but clear. He can still hear AMADOU's words echo in his mind:
AMADOU (voice-over)
"Move with your heart. The predator's dance isn't just about steps. It's how a hunter breathes in the ring."
YAPO walks, subtly shifting his weight, his body moving to a precise rhythm. He's in control.
[CLAVER'S YARD – MINUTES LATER]
CLAVER is sitting on a stone, headphones around his neck. He pulls out an earbud when he sees YAPO arrive.
CLAVER
"You look like someone who just came back from hell."
YAPO (slight smile)
"Not too far from the truth."
He sits down. A silence settles. CLAVER senses something's changed.
CLAVER
"You disappeared after the funeral. I didn't even recognize you at school."
YAPO (nodding)
"I went to see Amadou. He's training me now. He taught me something… weird at first. He made me dance."
CLAVER (raising an eyebrow)
"Dance? What, are you prepping for a music video or what?"
YAPO (grinning)
"He calls it the Predator's Dance. It's for movement. For sensing the space around you, like a big cat."
CLAVER
"Dope. Sounds like… Kung Fu, Abidjan edition."
YAPO chuckles quietly. His smile fades slowly as memories return — the alley, the fists, the screams, the Resonance…
CLAVER (calm)
"You don't have to tell me what happened. But you've changed."
YAPO (serious)
"I won a fight no one saw. And I lost the one I never wanted to lose."
CLAVER understands without asking.
CLAVER
"So… what now?"
YAPO (looking out)
"Now I'm going to see Sarah."
CLAVER (surprised, sly smile)
"Finally! Bro, after all that, no need to overthink it. She already saw the real you when you talked about her."
YAPO (resolute)
"Yeah. It's time."
[SARAH'S HOUSE – SUNSET]
They arrive in front of SARAH's house. CLAVER stays a few steps back. YAPO adjusts his T-shirt, wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead, then knocks gently on the door.
The orange light of the sky glides over the ochre walls of the house. The air is warm, filled with a peaceful stillness. YAPO stands at the door, calm gaze, but heart pounding. Further back, CLAVER pretends to check his phone, though his eyes keep drifting back to them.
The door opens. SARAH appears, simply dressed in a white T-shirt. Her hair is tied up, a few strands dancing in the breeze. She squints, surprised.
SARAH
"Yapo?"
YAPO (with a timid smile)
"Hey Sarah…"
A soft silence settles — soothing, as if time had paused. The wind rustles the leaves in the trees.
SARAH (gently)
"You okay? I haven't seen you in a while."
YAPO (nodding slowly)
"Yeah… I had a lot on my mind. But today… I wanted to see you."
She studies him with a new softness, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes.
YAPO (after a brief pause)
"I was going to grab lunch not far from here… and I thought… maybe you'd like to come with me."
SARAH (surprised, a little moved)
"You want us to have lunch together?"
YAPO (sincerely)
"Yeah. Nothing fancy. Just you and me. A quiet moment."
She smiles — the kind of smile that says maybe she was waiting for this without even realizing it.
SARAH (softly)
"Give me two minutes? I'll grab my things."
YAPO (relieved, eyes shining)
"Of course. I'll wait."
She gently closes the door. Yapo inhales deeply, his heart a little lighter. CLAVER, further away, gives him a discreet thumbs-up, a knowing look on his face.
[GARBADROME – LATE AFTERNOON]
The sun is nearly set. The neon lights of the garbadrome buzz faintly, casting white light over plastic tables. The air is thick with the smell of fried fish and attiéké.
YAPO and SARAH sit side by side at a small table. Two generous plates in front of them. SARAH smiles as she digs into her meal.
YAPO (hesitant, a little shy)
"I know this isn't a real restaurant… I wanted to take you somewhere nicer but… I couldn't afford it today."
SARAH (looking at him with a tender smile)
"It doesn't matter, Yapo. The place means nothing… as long as I'm with you."
Yapo looks up at her. He's touched. A genuine smile appears on his face. He nods silently, then lowers his eyes to his attiéké.
But suddenly, loud voices erupt nearby. A group of five teenage boys walks into the garbadrome. Noisy. Arrogant. They sit right next to them.
One of them, a bulky guy with his cap on backward, glances at Yapo's plate. He smirks… then suddenly, without warning, reaches over, grabs a chunk of fish, and stuffs it into his mouth, laughing.
GUY WITH THE CAP
"Mmmh… spicy and good! Thanks, bro!"
Yapo looks up slowly. He says nothing. His eyes go cold. His breath steadies. Sarah feels him tense up.
But it doesn't stop there.
Another from the group sits right next to SARAH. He stares her up and down, smirking.
SECOND GUY
"Mmmh… you're fine. He doesn't deserve a girl like you."
And with zero shame, he slaps her butt.
Sarah jumps in shock. Yapo calmly sets down his attiéké. A heavy silence falls over their table. Time seems to freeze again… but this time, it's not peace. It's the storm before the strike.
Yapo stands slowly. He looks at Sarah.
YAPO (voice calm, but ice cold)
"Sarah… go inside. I'll handle this."
SARAH (worried)
"Yapo…"
YAPO (still not looking at her)
"Please."
She obeys. Slowly. Eyes filled with anxiety. She walks into the small indoor area of the garbadrome.
Yapo turns to the five boys.
YAPO (still calm)
"You five… outside. Now. Let's talk."
They exchange looks, somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
GUY WITH THE CAP (mocking)
"Just you, and you wanna talk to all of us outside? You got guts, little man!"
Yapo doesn't reply. He simply walks out. He knows if they follow, it's going to explode. But he can't let this slide.
[BEHIND THE GARBADROME – EARLY NIGHT]
They eventually follow, laughing, curious.
As soon as they step outside, one of them throws a quick punch — Yapo dodges and counters with a right hook. The guy drops instantly.
Another charges. Yapo sidesteps and lands a sharp blow to the solar plexus. Two others come at him together: he uppercuts one and sweeps the legs out from under the other. They crash to the ground, groaning in pain.
The last one hesitates.
He pulls a knife from his belt. Another does the same. Two blades gleam under the streetlights.
Yapo freezes. He steps back. His fists tremble. He's never faced this before. His breathing quickens. His gaze hardens, but fear creeps in.
One of them circles around him.
The other moves in from behind… silently.
SARAH (shouting from the doorway)
"YAPO!! BEHIND YOU!!!"
Yapo spins — too late.
The blade slices through the air, heading straight for him…