Hinohiko

The sharp hiss of oil meeting ginger, the savory steam of broth that clung to everything—this was Hinohiko’s temple. A traveler slurped noodles, feeling a warmth spread through their limbs that had nothing to do with the spice. It was a feeling of profound, unnerving peace. When they looked up to compliment the chef, they saw it: a faint glow deep within Hinohiko’s eyes. It was that same glow that saw them exiled from the Empire with Itan-sha. While others debated scripture, Hinohiko claimed to know the divine’s true desire: a perfect meal. Their heresy wasn't in denying the gods, but in claiming to feed them. They were cast out for it. In the sprawling chaos of Waterfall City, no one questions the quiet chef with the ramen hat. They just know the noodles are the best they’ve ever had, unaware that each bowl is a forbidden ritual.