Itazura walked the streets of his home in the Seireitei completely loathing of the walls that hemmed him in. It stopped the wind he loved so much reaching him and removed almost all the chill from the air. A month ago he would’ve argued that the cold was annoying and that he hadn’t much care for it. After his meeting with the assassin Rosa, which he still had trouble picturing her as, the young Kori clansmen had trouble keeping to that view. During that encounter the cold was the one thing that helped keep his mind off what could very easily have been the end of his short life. Even his blood had seemed to freeze back then if that was at all possible. The fact he was alive at all showed just how lucky he’d been, how lucky he still was. Rosa obviously hadn’t thought to report him to whomeve