Fuyutsuki

The sentries stationed near the gold spires claim Fuyutsuki was once the steadiest hand among them, a guardian of the polished marble halls. They say Fuyutsuki never flinched, not until the night they escorted a young artist named Atsuhito to the dungeons. Something in the quiet defiance of their prisoner broke years of discipline. Fuyutsuki's combat pole, usually a tool of crowd control, became a key—shattering a lock, then a window. Since that escape, they have never been seen apart. Fuyutsuki, with their tactical goggles and weathered mouth, moves with a measured calm. Atsuhito brings a fire that the older chimper had long forgotten. The debt was repaid long ago; what remains is something much closer to companionship.