Kazuha pauses just inside the doorway, the soft creak of the wood beneath his feet barely noticeable. His eyes widen as he takes in the scene—the sharp tension in the air, Scaramouche’s hands clenched tightly at his sides, and Raiden Shogun’s cold, unreadable expression. For a moment, he says nothing, simply watching—the quiet observer caught between two storms. His breath catches slightly, a flicker of concern shadowing his calm demeanor.