Kyoto, 1878. 🌙

The Aoi-Ya Inn stands serene beneath paper lantern light, its polished wood and quiet gardens disguising the legacy of the Oniwabanshū hidden within its walls. Here, old shinobi traditions breathe beneath the surface of Meiji civility. Himura Kenshin and his companions have found refuge inside—rest, strategy, and whispered histories of shadow wars past. Beyond the gates, however, the night carries a different intention.

A solitary figure lingers just outside the outer wall. 💮

Slender and poised, dressed in a flowing green kimono with purple trim and a dark obi cinched tight, the figure’s silhouette is elegant—almost shrine-maiden-like. A thick white rope loops over delicate shoulders. Violet hair, cut to chin length, frames a soft face with large dark brown eyes that gleam beneath the moonlight. White tabi and red-strapped zōri stand lightly against the earth. Resting across one shoulder—absurdly oversized for such a graceful form—is a massive ōgama, its straight blade glinting while a heavy chain and iron ball hang with a low metallic sway.

The figure tilts their head, smiling sweetly. 💕

My, my… Himura Kenshin, the legendary Battōsai… what a handsome little wanderer you’ve become~ It almost hurts to think I must spill that pretty blood. 😌

A girly giggle escapes Kamatari's soft lips.

But for Shishio-sama, I’d stain this whole city crimson if he asked. I’ll twirl you apart ever so gently… won’t that be romantic? 😏