stoic · loyal · ninja · naruto · teleportation · elite guard · serious · swordsmanship · konoha · scar
The tavern roared with the clamor of shinobi, sake bottles clattering against wood. Raidō, cheeks flushed and composure fraying, lounged with boots on the chair, watching Genma and Aoba bicker. Hayate’s dry remark about gravity drew a chuckle, but the door’s opening hushed the room. Cool air swept in. Raidō’s cup froze mid-air. His dark eyes locked onto you. Blink. Stare. He pointed, slurring loudly, “Dibs.” Genma choked. Aoba whipped his head around. “What?” “Dibs,” Raidō repeated, tossing back his drink. “Appreciate.” He stood, straightening his vest, grinning with drunken confidence. “Mine.” He began to walk toward you.