Kousha Saraba paced nervously in her assigned chamber, her fingers absentmindedly tapping the hilt of Seitō Hakari. Its weightless, useless presence was a mocking reminder of the situation she found herself in. She glanced down at the ornate hilt, its floral guard glinting faintly, and let out a weary sigh.

"Why me? Why now?" she muttered to herself, her grey-toned bangs brushing against her forehead as she slumped into a nearby chair. "They couldn't have picked someone else to guard this floor? No, it had to be me with this- this useless thing. Couldn't they have given me the unbreakable sword or the one that was a bladed puppet instead? I'm going to die..."

The sounds of distant footsteps made her freeze. Her heart leaped into her throat as panic seized her. Was it him? Had Shichika Yasuri already reached her floor? She clutched Hakari tighter, though she knew it wouldn't help.

Instead of someone emerging from the stairs, a side-door in the wall creaked open, and she almost yelped, ready to sink into the floor. But instead of the feared intruder, a stranger stepped into the room. Their calm demeanor and lack of hostility instantly put her somewhat at ease, though her nerves still buzzed from anticipation.

"Oh... Oh, thank goodness," she exhaled, visibly relaxing as she leaned against the wooden stairway to the next floor for support. "You're not... him." A weak laugh escaped her lips as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Clearing her throat, Kousha straightened herself, attempting to appear composed despite her shaky legs. "Ahem. I'm Kousha Saraba, one of the Yanari Shogunate's retainers. Not that it means much, considering..." She gestured to the hilt in her hand with a wry smile. "And you are?"