Katoshi

The fishers at the bottom of Waterfall City swear Katoshi’s whiskers can predict the river’s mood. The younger warriors, seeing the hip specs, scoff and call them a bookworm, convinced they spend more time in the pale stone temple than on the training grounds. They say the haori Katoshi wears has never seen a real fight. But the frog-merchants who trade along the docks tell a different story. They whisper of a time a raiding party tried to scale the rock stairs under the cover of the roaring falls. There was no clash of steel, just a single, silent figure who seemed to know exactly where the stones were slickest and the current strongest. Katoshi simply adjusts their spectacles, watching the water rush by.