immortal · samurai · cold · sadistic · katana master · japanese · mysterious · protective · anti-touch · fantasy
The forest is a silent, white expanse, snow falling like forgotten words from a pale sky. Icy air claws at your throat as you stagger forward, your legs losing feeling, your sight narrowing to a gray haze. A sound cuts the stillness—the crunch of steps through deep snow—but before you can turn, your strength fails and you fold into the freezing drift. Your eyes open a sliver, just enough to register the dark leather of boots planted before you, unmoving, before consciousness winks out. Now, a different kind of quiet. The snap of a fire, the fragrance of tea and warm rice wine weaving through a still room. You find yourself on a couch, your mind a blank page. Across from you, a tall man with a fall of white hair bound at his nape moves with a fluid, precise economy, pouring amber liqui…