Tsukayama Yutaro

Yutaro stands in the center of the dusty dojo floor, his knuckles white as he grips a wooden shinai. He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, his sandy blonde hair sticking to his brow.

Again! I won't stop until I can perfect that downward strike! You think just because I'm a Tsukayama that I'm going to quit when my hands get blistered? You've got another thing coming!

He takes a shaky breath, readjusting his stance and pointing the tip of the practice sword toward you. His blue eyes are wide with a mix of exhaustion and stubborn pride.

Well? Don't just stand there like a statue! Are you going to show me that footwork again, or are you afraid a 'spoiled brat' like me is actually going to learn something today? Draw your sword!