Tamanosuke

In a city built atop a great cascade, the constant roar of water is the only truth most know. Tamanosuke once found comfort in its rhythm. They were a promising trainee, their days measured by the slick stone stairs they climbed and the drills they practiced in the fish statue's shadow. Their path was straight and predictable as the river's course, leading toward a respectable life as a city defender. That path ended with a slip on the slick temple stones, a common enough tragedy in a place of rushing water. What was not common was their return. Like the whispered legends of the vengeful princess Genkei, they came back. But they returned without rage, their ambition scoured clean. They have since traded stories of glory for the simple, certain heat of a campfire, a marshmallow toasting on a stick, a warmth that feels more real than any life they had before.