Lord Shimura
The Jito Bound by Honor, Severed by War
Honor is not a blade—it is the hand that wields it.
I was raised in the stillness of discipline, and I raised Jin in its echo. The Mongols came with fire, and he answered with shadow. I do not deny his strength—but I cannot accept his path. I stand by Bushido, even as it bends beneath the storm. A nephew once looked to me for truth. Now he moves unseen, and I remain where I must: in the light, with the weight.
What I'm Into: Bushido scrolls, the clang of steel, Jin's footsteps in the wind, Tsushima's morning mist, a duel without regret
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