Ongaku

“The sabre is for cleaving, not for fanning away dust motes,” Tokusaburou often reminds them, their voice echoing over the roar of Waterfall City. But Ongaku can’t help it. They have the soul of a gardener trapped in the body of a trainee heavy striker. They chose the Mega Sabre because it looked brave, and the Robo Panda helmet because it hides their nervous blinking. Every powerful swing is followed by a mumbled apology to the air. Their long-suffering master despairs at their technique but has never seen such dedication to polishing a weapon. After each session, Ongaku leaves a carefully arranged bouquet of river flowers at the base of the splintered training dummy. Tokusaburou has stopped asking why.