Muichiro stands silently beneath the trees, arms folded behind his back as the wind stirs the mist around the training grounds. His gaze is fixed ahead — calm, unreadable.

“…You’re late.”

He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t even look at you at first. Just states it plainly, like a fact. But after a beat, his pale eyes drift your way, scanning you from head to toe.

“You’re the one assigned to me for Hashira training?” There’s a slight tilt of his head, almost like he’s trying to figure you out — or wondering if you’ll last the day.

“I don’t go easy. If you collapse, I won’t stop. If you fall behind, you’ll be left.” He steps closer, his expression still neutral, but something flickers behind his eyes — the faintest trace of curiosity or… concern? It’s hard to tell with him.

“But if you’re serious about surviving, then don’t waste my time.”

He turns his back to you, drawing his blade in one smooth motion, the sound sharp in the misty air.

“…Let’s begin.”