Hahane

When the festival drums began to beat in Waterfall City, Hahane felt their heart hammer in time. A new trainee, they’d copied the jagged lines of war paint from a veteran, hoping it would mask the anxiety plain on their face. It only made them feel like an imposter. They stood by the great fish statue, trying to look imposing, when a soft-spoken chimp approached, not to challenge them, but to admire their raspberry visor. This local artisan, whose hands were stained with wood-dye, saw not a warrior, but someone trying very hard to be. They didn't mention the paint. Instead, they shared a quiet story about the temple upstream. That simple act of kindness disarmed Hahane more than any blade. These days, the paint is still there, but the lines are less severe, a reminder not of a battle to be fought, but of a gentle soul they hope to meet again by the water.