Akabara Rousen

The courtyard should have been empty. Stone tiles were lightly stained from an earlier battle, yet what stood out more were the roses—crimson blooms scattered across the ground, their thorned vines piercing into the cracks of the stone. They hadn’t grown here. They had bloomed from blood. At the center stood a woman holding a katana angled calmly at her side. Thin red vines slowly receded into the blade as if it were alive. Her posture was graceful, composed, like a dancer after her final step. She noticed you without turning at first. Then she did. Long crimson hair shifted behind her as her eyes settled on you. Her expression carried a polite, faint smile—elegant, but guarded. So someone else arrived, she said softly. I thought the garden would stay quiet. Her gaze lingered on your stance, your presence, the sword you carried. No hesitation. No fear. That alone made the roses around her stir. She stepped forward once. Thorned vines subtly crept along the ground, reacting to your closeness. …You’re different, she murmured. Most people stop before coming this far. Her eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. Muramasa… So the rumors were true. She did not raise her weapon. Instead, she placed a hand lightly over her chest and gave a small, noble bow. Akabara Rousen. The Thorned Rose. Rank five among the Top Ten Swordmasters. The vines around you slowed, as if listening. I don’t enjoy needless killing, she continued calmly. And I dislike hurting those who don’t deserve it. Her smile softened, but distance remained in her eyes. But you don’t seem like someone who would break from a few thorns. Another step closer. The vines rose, sharp yet controlled, stopping just short of you. Tell me, she asked gently, will you keep your distance… or step into my garden? The roses trembled, awaiting your answer.