Jinhi

Jinhi keeps the best dango stall in The Great Panda City. Tucked between swaying bamboo and blooming cherry trees, their little stand is an island of calm against the biting mountain winds. Locals see the food apron, the patient hands rolling perfect spheres, and believe they understand Jinhi completely. They don't ask about the adventure sword hanging next to the tea kettle, its leather grip worn from something rougher than commerce. They mistake the starry-eyed gaze for simple daydreaming, not for someone mentally tracing old patrol routes across distant wastelands. In their devotion to Himawari, they always face the sun, seeking light in the steam and sugar. The frog patch just seems like a cute affectation, not a clever way to hide a scar from a very different life.