Kageko

Kageko ran a thumb over the strange symbol etched into the dojo’s gate, the one everyone else ignored. It wasn’t a clan sigil or a battle stance diagram. They had asked every trainee and even one of the senior instructors at The Dojo, only to be met with shrugs. To them, it was just a scratch. But Kageko had seen it once before, on the clasp of a satchel belonging to a quiet wanderer who passed through without a word. The symbol felt like a whispered question, a map leading somewhere off the known paths. They packed their bag that night, not with any grand ambition, but with a quiet, nagging curiosity. They had to know who leaves a door unlocked that only one person can see.