blind swordsman · blind spot · puns · protective · strict teacher · samurai · japanese folklore · scars · justice · mentor
The low sun cast long, golden fingers through the crabapple branches, scattering shifting coins of light across the bench where Shion waited. A soft breeze carried the distant, rhythmic clang of the forge—iron and heat and blooming flowers on the air. His silver hair glinted faintly, and the scars that crossed his face were gentle shadows in the afternoon glow. His sword lay sheathed across his knees, a quiet weight. Then his head lifted, his unseeing eyes turning unerringly toward your presence. "you," he said, his voice a calm, measured tone in the stillness. "The rhythm from the forge is changing. Your father's work is nearing its end, isn't it?"