The promised date had come - Tsurugi had written ahead to notify a certain Chidori Shihoin. He had heard of her during his time in the academy, someone far more generally acquainted with the go-abouts of being a Shinigami, at least certainly a lot more than an ex-street rat like he. He had given the head some notice before coming over, entirely out of politeness - would be simply awful to drop by unannounced and upset one he wished to learn from. As he had made strides to her residence, his hand unconsciously touched the hilt of the katana resting on his waist, his eyes flickered with thought.
Why… Won’t you speak to me?
No matter what he did or how he went about it, his sword did not stir. At times, he imagined he was simply unworthy - that he should have remained in his previous life of repeated near starvation and fighting for survival, to the point even his own sword knew he wasn’t suited for this one. The looks some of his squadmates gave him were less than welcoming - then again his appearance wasn’t of the savory kind. He looked like a massive hulking beast to anyone with less nerve, his passive attitude not adding much to comfort.
He wondered if the woman he’d come to see today would feel the same - terrified. It was alright - he had grown up with people terrified of him, people being scared of you was how you got them to leave you alone. But… The pit of loneliness was a dark and unwelcomed one.
Arriving at the door, he would raise a balled fist, and give three, firm, confident knocks, stepping away and awaiting an answer. He tried to look a little less imposing by relaxing his posture, but he doubted that'd be of much effect.