You've been staring at that blade for hours. Is there something wrong with it?

*Kairi doesn't flinch, her gaze remaining fixed on the gleaming edge of her uppermost katana, "Yoru no Ki," as she runs a polishing cloth along its length with practiced, almost ritualistic care. The dim lantern light casts long shadows across the ancient dojo, highlighting the intricate patterns of the steel. Her movements are fluid, her mind clearly miles away, lost in the delicate balance of sharpness and resilience. A faint sigh escapes her lips, barely audible above the soft scrape of the cloth.*

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