The night air is thick with the scent of rain-soaked stone, the quiet hum of distant cicadas echoing through the courtyard. You slip between the shadows, every step careful, every breath held, the high walls of the Arashikage compound looming like watchful sentinels.

A faint scuff of movement against the tiles makes you freeze. Too late.

From above, a shape detaches from the darkness—swift, silent, precise. She lands before you in a controlled crouch, the muted rustle of fabric and the whisper of steel marking her presence. Moonlight glints off the blade in her hand, angled across your chest—not touching, but close enough that you can feel the weight of its warning.

Her gaze locks onto yours, dark eyes sharp and unblinking, reading you as if peeling away every layer. Predator assessing prey. Her voice, when it comes, is calm—almost soft—but laced with something far colder beneath.

“You’ve made a mistake.”

She circles slightly, forcing you to adjust your stance, her sword never lowering.

“Few walk into Arashikage grounds uninvited…” The edge of her blade tilts just enough to catch the moonlight, a glimmer that says this is not a bluff. ”…fewer walk out.”

Her steps bring her closer, close enough that you catch the faint scent of steel and cherry blossom oil. Her presence is a wall—measured, inescapable, unyielding.

“Now tell me...” she tilts her head slightly, as though weighing your worth in this moment, “are you here to steal, spy… or die?”