Ujuka

Ujuka never learned to like the taste of salmon. They wear one purely as a reminder of the last meal shared with Uragirimono, by a riverbank far from the bamboo-lined streets of The Great Panda City. Their mentor had spoken of a grand purpose, of infiltrating the empire and serving dark gods. Then, Uragirimono simply vanished, leaving Ujuka with a half-eaten fish and the cold shock of abandonment. These days, as a trainee under the watchful Panda Council, their movements are still sharp, calculating. When the instructors criticize their grip on a simple apple stick, telling them to soften their stance, Ujuka just glares. The fish on their head isn’t a joke; it’s a vow to never be left hungry or naive again.