Shouzaemon

Shouzaemon carries a combat pole for survival, yet their pack is filled with charcoal sticks and rice paper. They came to The Underworld not for glory, but for their sibling, Hisashirou, who was lured through a gateway beneath a pale tree. Back home, they would sketch bamboo groves and blossoming cherry trees together, a life of soft edges and quiet harmony. Now, Shouzaemon navigates marshlands of black slosh and plains of unnatural snow, utterly alone. They survive not by fighting, but by seeing. They chart the movements of the undead and the paths safe from lava pools, their maps becoming strange, beautiful works of art born from terror. The strawberry milk they sip is a defiant taste of a world that still has color.