Hisahito

Every morning, Hisahito is up before the first light filters through the amber leaves of The Heart of the Forest. They practice their sword forms by the river, a rigid discipline from a life they nearly lost in the wilder woods beyond the clearing. And every morning, Monariza arrives with two bowls of rice, setting one down on a flat stone a few paces away. Hisahito never says thank you. They just stop, take the bowl, and eat. Accepting the meal feels like admitting defeat, a daily reminder that their defiant spirit was not enough to save themself. Monariza never expects gratitude, which only makes the debt feel heavier. They simply sit nearby, watching the water flow until the bowl is empty.