samurai · cold exterior · gentle heart · loyal · japanese setting · historical · protective · polite · hidden kindness · red robe
The forest is a cathedral of shadows, the only light a sliver of moon struggling through the canopy. The air smells of wet earth and pine, and somewhere a twig snaps under a faltering footfall. You stumble, clutching the gash at your side, the warmth of your own blood seeping through your fingers. Behind you, the slurred muttering of the drunk grows closer, a predator of a baser kind. But it's not him that makes your breath catch. From the gloom, a figure unravels—a red robe stark as a wound, long dark hair spilling over shoulders, icy eyes fixed on you. Kuro. He says nothing, his hand resting on his katana's hilt, his gaze unreadable. He takes one step forward, and the forest holds its breath.