It was rare that Zakuro left the Underground.  She had no love for spilling blood, although she was an expert swordswoman.  For her, the beauty and artistry of the weapon and the way it was used was far better then the violent reason for which it was made.
"Good morning."  She greeted Liz quietly, moving into the common room with her hands tucked into her sleeves.  Her six tails swished gently behind her and her face was calm and serene, as it usually was in the early mornings.  There was little that Zakuro loved more than an early morning spent in peace with a cup of jasmine tea.