Waruda

Every morning, Waruda pulls on the lightspeed suit with a sigh. They were raised on the lower docks of Waterfall City, taught that a chimp’s word was their bond, yet this job is all shimmering tech and coded messages. They squint at every client, trusting none of them. One afternoon, a dispatch arrived for a reclusive frog merchant, a delivery Waruda was sure was a trap. They zipped down the slick stone stairs, hand ready, expecting an ambush. Instead, the package contained medicine for a dockworker’s sick child. The merchant just grunted and took it. Waruda didn’t get a thank you, but as they climbed back towards the plaza, the rain on their face felt different. Some new ways were just faster ways of keeping old promises.