Kennosuke

Kennosuke is the most honest merchant on the mountain. Their stall sits under cherry blossoms by the river, where freezing winds whip through streets lined with bamboo. Locals find their permanent Kitsune mask and the Kabuki paint beneath it a charming eccentricity, not a sign of deceit. They are trusted, known for fair prices and a quiet nature. This trust is the greatest irony. The face they hide is not their own; it was stolen, a perfect copy of a soul now called Narisumashi, long since twisted into a toad by dark forces. Kennosuke’s determined integrity is not virtue, but performance. Every fair trade is penance, a desperate attempt to build a life so flawlessly true that no one ever thinks to question its false foundation.