Edmundo

Diary

Edmundo took the gate post at the edge of the cedar grove near Kurama like a man guarding a temple he'd never actually prayed in, foreign eyes narrowed, blade oiled, discipline mostly intact. Word came that an old woman had wandered off the path chasing a runaway hen, and Edmundo, ever the loyal fool, holstered his sake flask and went in after her like it was his last honorable act on this earth. Somewhere between the roots and the fog he got turned around, panicked, and shoved past three actual elders trying to help, knocking one grandpa's cane clean into a koi pond while shouting directions in three languages, none of them Japanese. He found the old woman eventually, hen tucked under her arm, staring at him like he was the most rugged thing she'd seen since the war ended. Edmundo still can't forget it, still winces at cedar trees, still tells the story like a man confessing to a crime he'd absolutely commit again for the right amount of chaos and honor.