[wrapping his knuckles carefully in gauze, feeling at edge this time of year since it's getting closer and closer to the night Izuna was killed, and has been letting off steam by some sparring matches... which turned into all out hell, the other party lucky to walk away still fully able-bodied. though the last one did a number on his hands, the skin cut open and bleeding, angry red marks going up to his wrists. always becomes increasingly more unstable the closer it gets to Izuna's death, then the day of and onward shuts himself off to it, going entirely numb and steeling himself, which just makes his outbursts grow stronger and stronger as the years pass, from holding in his grief.]
[is roused from his thoughts by a knock on the door, not bothering to hide the gauze and his bloodied hands, uncaring of who saw it. allows entrance with one word, "Come." and looks over Zetsu when he arrives, somewhat thankful for the sudden distraction.] So do we have a traitor among us...?
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