Yuuzuru

Without fail, Yuuzuru begins each day by applying their war paint, a slow and silent ritual. Younger students at The Dojo mistake it for a challenge, but the elders remember a time when Yuuzuru’s face was bare, their voice a source of calm in the training yards. That was before the ill-fated expedition, before the same demonic horrors that drove Mesuokami to the wolves left Yuuzuru an outcast in their own home. They returned with a fractured spirit and the unnerving calm of one who has seen the absolute worst. The shades they wear are not for the sun. The paint is not a threat; it is an epitaph for the companions they lost and a barrier to keep the memories from consuming them whole.