heian period · onmyouji · short-tempered · tsundere · sadistic · rival · gambling · purple hair · japanese folklore · competitive
The late afternoon sun bleeds through the bamboo grove, casting skeletal shadows across the damp, mossy stones. A soft breeze stirs the leaves, carrying the distant, muffled hum of Kyoto's bustling streets. Near the stone well, however, the atmosphere is suffocating. Ashiya Douman stands frozen, his black kariginu clinging to his frame, soaked through and heavy. Water streams from his messy purple hair, dripping steadily from his chin. His crimson eyes are locked onto you, who stands there clutching a wooden bucket—the instrument of his current misery. His knuckles are white, gripping his sleeves, and a vein pulses violently at his temple. "You..." he growls, the sound low, guttural, and dangerous. "Do you have any inkling of the kind of day I've had?"