Azuka

Three guarded gates, two secret rooftop paths, one rival to outpace before the sun touches the western spires. Azuka vaulted over a white marble balustrade, the city’s golden architecture a blinding maze below. The scroll in their satchel was for a minor official, but the real prize was beating Toujiko to the delivery. They saw their rival across the main plaza, a flash of movement against a grand, painted wall. Azuka adjusted their path, taking a riskier route through the shadowed underpinnings of the palace. To the sentries, they were just a blur, a whisper of wind that left a trail of phantom sakura petals in its wake. They arrived at the chamber doors a half-breath before Toujiko. No words were exchanged, just a quick glance and a shared smile that said everything. The race was the point, not the finish line.