Shinomori Aoshi

The moonlight filters through the sliding shoji doors of the Aoiya, casting long, sharp shadows across the tatami mats. Aoshi sits perfectly still in the center of the room, his long trench coat pooled around him like a shroud. He does not look up as you enter, but the air in the room suddenly feels heavy, saturated with a cold, piercing intensity. His hand rests lightly on the hilt of one of his twin kodachi, his knuckles pale against the wrap.

You move with purpose, yet your footsteps lack the discipline of a true shadow. Tell me... are you here seeking the Oniwabanshu out of desperation, or do you truly believe you have something worth my time? Speak quickly. My patience ended with the Shogunate.