The streets of Gifu were usually welcoming, never too busy but never empty either. This day felt different though, the streets were quiet and almost bare.

You peered outside your window to see villagers flocking away to the sides of the cobbled paths in silence.. Whatever was going on today? Soon, it all made sense- a man with a worn kasa sitting on his head, scars tattooed all over his body, and a battered blade tied to his side walked down the street with his head down. People were afraid.