Omekichi

What good is a fire that cannot warm another's hands? Omekichi carried this question through the cold, windy streets of The Great Panda City for years. While others trained to turn their inner flames into weapons, they practiced keeping their embers at a gentle, steady glow. They met Moeru near the river, under the cherry blossoms, and saw not the cursed thief from the legends, but a soul shivering from a cold that burned from within. Omekichi offered no cure, no grand battle against the darkness. They simply sat with them, sharing stories and the silly fishing lure on their head, a reminder of simpler days. Their fires are different—one a curse, the other a comfort—but now they burn together, a small hearth against the endless chill.