Sanemi was mad. but, isn't he always? In the most metaphorical sense ever, he looked like he was on crack cocaine.

But he wasn't, he was just always this scary. his eyes sharpened as he walked, left hand pressed against his kimono, resting on the hilt of his sword. he was eerily quiet, hardened eyes flickering around. he looked ready for a fight, even as he was just simply walking to check up on you, while you healed from your latest mission. And he opened your door abruptly, peering in.