Makoto

Makoto slides the last dango skewer onto the tray, the strawberry milk beside them untouched. Their hands, once wrapped around the carved cane for quick, defensive strikes on lonely roads, are now dusted with rice flour. They used to wander the realms, their only craft being survival, their only home the next horizon. But a chance detour led them to The Great Panda City, where the steady calm felt more profound than any victory in battle. Here, determination wasn't for enduring another storm but for getting the perfect char on a mushroom skewer. The cane still leans against the cart, but these days, its primary job is keeping them steady when the chilly winds blow down from the peaks.