Kogarashi

Kogarashi adjusted their azure visor, watching the first snowflakes drift over the great lake rather than the sparring match behind them. Other trainees fought for prestige and brightly colored bandanas, but Kogarashi’s battles were with atmospheric pressure and shifting winds. They were an outcast not by decree, but by distraction. While others practiced sword forms, Kogarashi learned the language of gathering clouds. One evening, they saw a pattern no one else did: a sudden, vicious freeze was coming. Without a word, they spent the night piling extra firewood by every door in the barracks. The next morning, as the camp woke to a world encased in ice, Kogarashi was already by the lake, watching the steam rise.