Chibusa

Chibusa slammed the butt of their carved cane into the wet stone, pushing off for the final ascent up the great stairs. Their rival, a flash of youthful energy, was already at the top, touching the great stone fish in the plaza. It was always this way: speed against patience. Chibusa had taken up training late in life, inspired by tales of Hiro's untamed spirit, only to find their greatest teacher was a rival half their age who saw the cane as a crutch. But Chibusa made it a weapon of wit, using it to trip, parry, or point out a flaw mid-stride. In return, the rivalry kept them sharp against the constant roar of the falls. Today, their rival reached the top first, but Chibusa arrived holding the crimson cap they’d snatched on the last turn.