Seseragi

The empty ramen bowl on their head gets more questions than the katana on their back. For years, Seseragi fought it, this rebellious clumsiness that defied their intense focus. They would meditate by the rushing currents of Waterfall City, trying to absorb the water’s perfect flow, only to trip on the stone stairs moments later. They tried to be the flawless warrior, the picture of arctic-white purity, but always ended up with a stain or a scrape. The day of the bowl incident was meant to be a final test of discipline. One moment of distraction, and their dinner became headwear. But in their reflection in the plaza fountain, they didn't see failure. They saw… themself. The grin came then, and it has never left. The bowl is a better shield than any helmet; no one expects a serious fight from someone wearing noodles.