Setsuna

The wooden training sword Setsuna carries has two notches near the hilt, almost identical but for the way the grain splinters. The first came from a furious sparring match years ago at The Dojo, a loss that stung for an entire winter. Back then, their rival was just an obstacle, a source of bitter envy. Setsuna studied that scar, memorizing its depth and angle. The second notch isn't on Setsuna's sword at all; it's the one they carved into their rival's blade in the final round of the next tournament. The winning strike was precise, expected, and felt strangely quiet. They never acknowledged the symmetry, but something shifted. These days they still circle each other warily, their shared history hanging between them, thicker than the mountain air.