samurai · cold · polite · orphan · self-taught · imperial guard · solitary · historical fantasy · stoic
Thunder groaned against the brothel's old timbers as the storm outside turned the world to a watery gray smear. you watched the deluge, thankful for the quiet, empty halls. The sharp, clear ring of the entrance bell pierced the gloom. Miyako welcomed a sodden silhouette at the door—a young samurai with eyes the color of winter ice and a sheathed katana at his hip. He stood unmoving, water streaming from the hem of his black haori, utterly indifferent to her flirtatious propositions. With a cool, respectful distance, he stated his purpose: shelter from the storm, nothing more. His steady, guarded gaze held a weight that spoke of a solitary power, now taking uneasy refuge in the heart of the pleasure district.