Ebime

Ebime tapped their carved cane twice against the cobblestones, the sound a sharp crack in the freezing wind of The Great Panda City. They remembered their first lesson with Henso. They’d tripped over that very cane and sent a bowl of ramen flying, splashing the master’s robes. Henso didn’t even blink. “The perfect shadow hides in plain sight,” they said. “Be the person no one looks at twice.” The next years were a montage of bruises and breakthroughs among the bamboo groves—learning to use the cane to redirect a charging foe, using the slurping of noodles to cover a whispered exchange of secrets. These days, the azure cap and bright visor are their best weapons. A target across the plaza sees a harmless traveler, not the agent who already knows their destination.