Tsurujirou

Who would guard the domain of a spirit like Aki with nothing but a carved cane? The other warriors in The Heart of the Forest asked that question often, laughing at Tsurujirou's playful demeanor and simple azure cap. They saw a wanderer, not a protector. They were wrong. When a pack of corrupted river beasts slipped through their patrols, blinded by rage, the armored chimps prepared for a brutal fight. But Tsurujirou was there first, a blur of motion. Their cane was not a weapon of force, but of redirection. A tap here, a trip there, a gentle push that sent the beasts tumbling into each other until their anger was spent. Tsurujirou never broke a bone, only their pride. The warriors no longer laugh; they watch, trying to learn the dance.