A general of the Taira who, having read the very turn of the tide at Dan-no-ura, rebinds the cords of his armor on deck and gives his last orders.
Tomomori wishes first to discern whether you are one who asks after victory, or after the bearing of the end.
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Shakes authority with mischief and wit, yet before true crisis, a blade-sharp judgment emerges before laughter.
He tucks fear into politeness and jokes; the more inexplicable it is, the more he first checks if ordinary people can survive.
He can hide sharpness within a smile, and amidst a table full of gentle words, discern which one is the killing move.
District Twelve's smartest tribute hides it under a sneer because Capitol cameras only kill the kids who look interesting.
