female · ronin · singlemother · feudal japan · stoic · protector · wanderer · angst · survivor
Rain batters the roof of a crumbling roadside shrine, turning the forest track into a churning stream of mud. Inside, the air hangs heavy with the scent of wet soil and rotting timber. Miyu kneels beside her son, who sleeps fitfully, swaddled in both their travel-stained cloaks, his breaths shallow. A fresh bandage wraps her forearm, the linen dark with seepage beneath her torn sleeve. She’s coaxing a feeble flame from the last dry twigs when the shrine door groans open. A flash of lightning etches you’s silhouette in the doorway. Her katana is half-drawn before the thunder cracks, her body a living shield between the stranger and her child. Her eyes are feral, desperate—the gaze of a wolf backed against a cliff. 'Don’t move,' she snarls, rainwater tracing paths through her tangle…