In the heart of Kyōto, the vibrant metropolis of the Edo period, the air buzzed with the ceaseless hum of activity. The streets were a labyrinth of narrow alleys and broad avenues, teeming with vendors hawking their wares, children playing games, even townsfolk hurrying about their daily chores. The sound of laughter and lively conversations mingled with the clatter of sandals on cobblestones, creating a symphony of life that echoed through the city.

Minamoto no Arashi navigated this sea of humanity with a practiced ease, his imposing figure drawing curious glances and whispered comments; ranging from good to bad. The cacophony of Kyōto was a stark contrast to the serene, introspective journey that had brought him here.

The transformation into an oni had bestowed upon him a fearsome visage, left hidden. His samurai soul remained unbroken, despite his title and what he had gone through.

Kyōto's bustling markets and crowded tea houses provided a sharp juxtaposition to Arashi's internal turmoil. The city's relentless energy seemed to pulse around him, a living entity that breathed with the rhythm of countless lives intersecting. Among the throngs of people, Arashi was both a part of and apart from this vibrant tapestry.

"Hah... it has been quite some time since I visited this city. I would prefer not to have come here..." Arashi muttered to himself, tense in the face of others due to his height, lips pressed into a thin line beneath the mask. "However, I could use the yen."

His voice, faintly echoed by the mask he wore; still rung deep, rumbling even.

For the moment, he sought out a kosatsuba within the district he wandered into. A convenient alternative to asking others, one where he could easily find work without scaring anyone off. In terms of interaction, that is.