[center][color=red][sup][h1][b]Jae-eun Yoshihide[/b][/h1][/sup][/color][img]https://i.imgur.com/tirnYfj.png[/img]

[b][sup][color=red]Location:[/color][color=white] Torigaya Onsen[/color]
[color=red]Mentions:[/color] [@Yu Narukami][@Randomguy][@Haha][@Aku the Samurai][/sup][/b][/center][hr]The night air was cool against Jae-eun's skin as he stood outside the onsen, arms crossed loosely over his chest. His tattoos—intricate patterns that wound across his shoulders and down his arms—prevented him from joining the others inside. It was a small inconvenience, one he'd grown used to. The ink marked him as different, an outsider even among outsiders, but he'd never regretted it. The designs were his armor, his history etched in black and gray. 

He flexed his right hand, feeling the residual ache in his knuckles from the day's training. Suzuwari. Bell Splitter. The foundational technique of Soryū Karate. It was a strange name for something so devastatingly simple: strike a descending blade from the side, break it with minimal effort. Offense is defense. Defense is offense. A single motion that embodied both protection and destruction.

He'd picked it up with surprising ease. That, in itself, was surprising.

Jae-eun had expected resistance. He'd expected his body—trained for years in the flowing, acrobatic movements of Dragon Breathing—to rebel against the rigid, explosive power of Soryū. But instead, it had felt... natural. The way his weight shifted into his hips, the way his fist drove forward with all the force of his core and legs behind it, the way the impact reverberated through his bones like a bell being struck—it was as if his body had been waiting for this all along.

He'd expected to struggle. But he hadn't.

Perhaps it was because Dragon Breathing, at its core, was already about precision and force. His naginata strikes were designed to cleave through demons with devastating accuracy, to channel every ounce of passion and rage into a single, overwhelming blow. Soryū simply asked him to do the same thing with his fists. The philosophy was the same: commit fully, strike decisively, leave no opening.Or perhaps it was something else. Something deeper.

The legend of Soryū spoke of a man who had taken down sixty-seven armed opponents with nothing but his bare hands. Sixty-seven. The number haunted Jae-eun in a way he couldn't quite articulate. It was a massacre, a brutal expression of skill and will that bordered on the inhuman. And yet, he understood it. He understood the kind of singular focus, the kind of all-consuming drive, that would allow someone to do that.

It was the same drive that had led him to create Dragon Breathing. The same possessive, unyielding force that had turned Love Breathing's gentle passion into something sharp and unforgiving. He uncrossed his arms and struck the air experimentally, feeling the explosive release of energy through his fist. The motion was clean, efficient, devastating. It felt good. Too good. 

He smiled at the proprietress. She was pretty, in the way a poisonous flower was pretty. The hotsprings looked lovely, but again, Jae-eun would not be bathing tonight. Such was the consequences of his decisions.

Tenko's voice cut through his thoughts, her expression tight with alarm. Her ribbon had shifted and Jae-eun noticed. Her question entered his mind like a gunshot. 

[color=red]"Relax, Tenko-chan."[/color] Jae-eun's smile was as placid as ever, his tone light and unbothered. He didn't even turn to look in the direction she was indicating. His single eye remained fixed on the distant treeline, half-lidded and serene.

[color=red]"I know. I've been listening to it for the past five minutes. It's subtle, and quiet, extremely so. It's heavy, old, dangerous."[/color] He tilted his head slightly, as if considering a particularly interesting puzzle. He raised his right hand, curling it into a loose fist. The motion was casual, unhurried, but there was a weight to it—a promise.

[color=red]"We shall remain cautious. We are guests here at the hotsprings. Let us not ruin what little downtime we have by engaging in carnal violence where it may not be needed."[/color] His voice remained cheerful, almost sing-song, but beneath the pleasant facade, there was something else—something cold and certain. If a fight broke out now, it would be total annihilation for one side or the other. He just didn't want to find out which. He flexed his fingers, feeling the scarlet ore dust circulating through his bloodstream, the faint heat of it pulsing in time with his heartbeat. It was intoxicating, this new power. Dangerous, yes—Miyuki had made that abundantly clear—but effective.

[color=red]"But... I must confess.. I want to see if Soryū really works."[/color]