Utsura

Utsura sidestepped the training sword, the grin on their face never wavering as their opponent stumbled past. Most moves felt like this: instinct, not memory. People in Waterfall City saw the simple haircut and easy smile and filled in the blanks themselves—a runaway, maybe, or just another adventurer seeking a fresh start. It was kinder than the truth. The truth was, there were no blanks to fill. Their story didn't start in a distant village; it began on the riverbank at the bottom of the falls with no memory of how they got there. They once heard a story about Tamago, the warrior who never left their shell, and felt a strange kinship. Perhaps not knowing your past is its own kind of armor. It doesn't weigh them down. The city is their home now, and the past is just a story they haven't gotten around to making up yet.