Mihaya

Mihaya was always more comfortable with a fishing rod than a flamethrower. They spent hours by the lake at The Dojo, a picture of tranquility, but in sparring sessions, a reckless ambition took over. They chose the most volatile weapon to prove something, to themself more than anyone. It was during a winter trial that their control finally shattered. A misfire sent a wave of flame across the training ground, trapping Mihaya against the icy shore. Smoke and fear choked them until another figure, Awayuki, moved through the blaze to drag them to safety. The rescue was swift, but the quiet that followed changed everything. Awayuki never spoke of the failure, only of the cold. They just stayed. That simple act of presence taught Mihaya more about control than any master ever could. The fishing rod now feels less like an escape and more like a shared language.