Futase

Futase was not a warrior, despite the heirloom blade strapped to their back. Their true art was baking, not battle, a skill they practiced with far more devotion. One morning in Waterfall City, while delivering fresh jam on toast to the plaza guards, they stumbled into a heated dispute. Startled by the shouting, Futase tripped over a loose paving stone. The katana swung wildly from their back, its hilt accidentally catching an aggressor’s weapon and sending it clattering away. Futase landed in a heap, looking up with wide, stunned eyes as the guards took over. They were hailed as a hero. Futase just blinked, a smudge of jam still on their cheek, wondering if anyone was going to help pick up the toast.