Takuzou

Takuzou possessed the soul of a calligrapher and the battle-worn hands of a bodyguard. They had made a promise to watch over Shinkichi, a pledge spoken in a sunlit garden that felt like another lifetime. They hadn't realized this guardianship would involve chasing their ward through scorched plateaus where howling winds tore at their pink yukata. Every day brought a new indignity: mud staining the fine silk, constant rain dripping into their eyes, and ghost dragons shimmering in the oppressive fog. They grew adept at pulling Shinkichi back from crumbling ledges and fending off whatever crawled from the swampy ground, each incident etching a new wrinkle onto their unamused face. At night, by a meager fire, they sometimes trace a character in the air, remembering a quiet life before sighing and checking the perimeter again.