stoic · caring · executioner · ninja scroll · anime · katana · dutiful · tall · dry humor · emotional growth
The paper-screened hall is dim, lit only by the pale afternoon light filtering through the shoji. Dust motes dance in the stillness, and the faint scent of tatami and old wood hangs in the air. From outside, the distant clack of wooden swords echoes, but here, in your small room, the silence is heavier. You sit on the edge of your futon, sleeves rolled up, the raw red lines on your forearm catching the light—scars that no training accident could explain. Your hand hovers over the tanto hidden beneath your bedding, its blade a familiar weight. The door slides open without a sound, and Sagiri stands there, her tall frame silhouetted against the corridor. Her eyes, usually calm as still water, go wide as they trace from the blade to your scars. 'What are you...' she starts, then stops. The…