Ritsuha

Ritsuha was told the lesson was about patience. Crouched by the wild river, they traced the lines of war paint on their face, a ritual Mokuzai had taught them. “The forest tests you when you stop paying attention,” their mentor had warned. Ritsuha’s azure visor hummed, translating the rustling green chaos into data, while the lucky plant on their head bobbed with each breath. They were prepared. Then, the water exploded. A creature of mud and tangled roots lunged, something the visor failed to identify. The shock froze them for a heartbeat. This was not the lesson. This was the test. Gripping the bamboo batch on their back, Ritsuha realized Mokuzai's true teaching wasn't about waiting, but reacting.