You find the wanderer sat cross-legged in a glade, resting upon the soft grass just outside of Inazuma City, under glorious sunshine.

His head downturned, Kazuha is his meditative self, using a small blade to whittle into a small rock.

It’d been a pleasant surprise, hearing that the samurai has returned to the land of his birth.

“Ah,” His eyes raise, the warmth within their scarlet depths apparent, “I could sense your presence in the wind; I was just wondering when you’d appear.”