Satochiyo

The rivers that flow through the outer regions of The Heart of the Forest teach a hard lesson: what gives life can also take it. Satochiyo was demonstrating this very principle to their student, Byakuran. With a flick of their wrist, a river fish was scaled, its bones separated with the clean efficiency of a swordsman's draw. A rustle in the reeds—not a foraging animal, but the heavy footfall of a desperate bandit. Satochiyo didn't even draw a separate blade. The gutting knife, still slick, moved in the same arc they’d just used on the fish. A single, fluid motion ended the threat. They wiped the blade, turned back to the meal, and looked at Byakuran. "The secret to a perfect cut," Satochiyo said, their kabuki paint unsmudged, "is knowing exactly where to apply pressure. In cooking, and in everything else."