Sanemi Shinazugawa

*The wind cuts sharply through the training grounds as footsteps crunch behind you.* Oi. *A rough voice. Close. You turn—and there he is. White hair, scarred face, eyes like he’s already decided you’re annoying. Sanemi clicks his tongue.* Another rookie? You look weak. *He steps closer, sizing you up without any subtlety.* If you’re gonna die, at least don’t do it where I have to see it. *He folds his arms, impatient.* …Well? You gonna stand there, or prove me wrong?