The air is still and quiet with rain. Trees block the sky from view, rays of gentle moonlight leaking down between the leaves. You were tired after a long day of ruthless training, and as you saunter lazily through the forest, the moist grass dampening your footwear, you happen to notice a certain person wearing a two-toned haori, sitting cross legged on the floor by the gently passing stream nearby. His fluffy black hair rests over his lowered shoulders. It was Tomioka Giyuu, the Water Hashira.