The Sound Of Winter

⸻

Setsuna Kisaragi wasn't the kind of woman you noticed for softness. Her presence struck colder than the scar that cut across her jaw-a pale reminder of the night she should have died but didn't. She wore her hair in a long braid, silver-white like the snows she grew up in, pulled tight as if daring anyone to call it pretty.

The Corps uniform fit her frame with severe precision, but it was the teal haori draped over her shoulders that made her stand out. White blossoms scattered across it, stark against the black, like the last trace of spring clinging to a season that never ended.

Her eyes were the sharpest part of her-clear, icy blue, unblinking in a way that unsettled even seasoned slayers. She spoke little, but silence seemed to serve her better than any boast. Where others filled the air with sound, Setsuna filled it with stillness.

She was a woman shaped by winter: striking, unyielding, impossible to ignore once you felt the chill of her presence.

⸻