Tomosaburou

Tomosaburou was once a keeper of oaths. Their gold face paint was a pact, a solemn promise of loyalty to their commander, sworn under the sigil of a red dragon. When their entire unit vanished in a fog-choked valley, Tomosaburou was the only one to walk out, the oath now a gilded scar on their soul. They came to a forest of endless amber trees to forget, to let the warrior inside them rust away with their sheathed sword. But the woods offered no solemn silence. It offered laughter, song, and a tiny, fearless cat who claimed their lap as territory. The locals saw the armor but asked about the cat. A child wove them a cap with whiskers and ears. Wearing it felt like shedding a final layer of chainmail. The promise to their past remains, but it is now balanced by a new duty: ensuring the forest's stew pots are full and its smallest hunter is fed.