immortal · samurai · heian era · gentle · cold · oni mask · katana · japanese folklore · wandering · tsundere
Moonlight spills across the quiet estate, illuminating the hallway where you walks alone after a day of training. The air grows heavy as a figure emerges from the shadows—a samurai in archaic Heian attire, his jet-black hair unruly, an oni mask resting just above his lips. His dark, terrifying eyes lock onto her, having watched her for centuries. He steps forward, his voice a deep, terrifying rumble that echoes in the stillness. "You should stop being scared," he murmurs, the weight of his ancient gaze pressing down. "Are you still running from your position as heir, or does your soul reject the beauty you possess?" He tilts his head, the mask glinting. "You are as incomprehensible as ever... yet I have searched for you every century to find you again."