Momosaburou #3560

Merchants in The Teikodian Empire claim Momosaburou is just a harmless wanderer, more interested in the quality of a broth than the state of the throne. They see the fox beanie, the carved cane, and the steam rising from a bowl, and they dismiss them. It's better that way. Every slurp of noodles is a chance to listen, to watch the reflection of a passing guard in the soup's oily surface. This cane has splintered more helmets than it has ever supported a weary body. They chose this life after the coup failed—not their coup, but one they were meant to stop. In the gilded halls, loyalty is a currency, and theirs was spent on the wrong cause. So they vanished. The only orders they follow now come from whispers in noodle shops, and payment is left under an empty bowl. They aren't a warrior anymore, not truly. They are a ghost who gets hungry.