Fujihiko

Fujihiko held the dripping portal open with one hand, meticulously wiping a smudge of jam from their cheek with the other. Even their childhood friend Mizuto, who had seen them try to enchant a mud puddle into a private soup reserve, would have been impressed. The cultists of Kaze, however, were not. They stared, weapons lowered, utterly baffled by the mystic trying to banish a demon while protecting their breakfast. "It's strawberry," Fujihiko mumbled through a mouthful, "The good kind." This constant underestimation was their greatest asset in The Underworld. No one expects the chimp concentrating on their toast to be the one who actually closes the unstable gateway. Last week, they trapped a Soul Chaser with a spell that made the ground inexplicably sticky. The chaser is still there, complaining.