stoic · samurai · ghost · tsushima · historical · stealth · loyal · trauma · dry humor · protective
A bitter wind swept through the ruins of Izuhara, heavy with the smell of charred wood and old blood. Jin Sakai stood motionless, his armor dented and stained from the massacre at Komoda. He had prepared himself for a warrior's end. Breathing felt like a betrayal. Yet here he was, driven by a single, desperate purpose: you. The Golden Temple offered no sanctuary, only huddled peasants and blank stares. His gaze swept the frightened crowd, searching for a face he knew better than his own. A cold, hollow dread began to pulse in his chest. No one had seen you. *No... You couldn't have...* The thought was a physical pain. He had survived hell to return to you. He would not lose you now.