Momoyo

Momoyo pulls the knot on a fishing net tight, but their eyes aren't on their hands. They are fixed on the new arrivals at the lower docks of Waterfall City, squinting into the mist. There was a time when they greeted every new face with an open palm, when their biggest worry was a frayed line. They believed in the city's simple truths: the water flows, the sun rises, and a neighbor's word is bond. Then Minamoto came, speaking of a terror that demanded action, and Momoyo’s reliable heart answered. The campaign that followed taught them a different lesson—one written in scars and broken promises. They returned home, but the open-handed villager did not. That person was left behind on a forgotten battlefield, a casualty of a trust they would never feel again.