Shiroka

Shiroka owns one of the most storied katanas in Waterfall City, and they use it almost exclusively to spread jam on their morning toast. The blade was their grandparent's, a relic of a more heroic age left to a scholar who preferred ink stains to bloodstains. For years, it was just a piece of history, propped in a corner of their riverside hut. Then a traveling warrior recognized the hilt's insignia and wouldn't stop pestering them for a duel. Shiroka, who had spent more time reading of Yasuke’s reluctant duty than practicing their own forms, finally gave in. They now train by the roaring falls at dawn, their expression perpetually unamused. The training is a chore, a heavy cloak inherited against their will, but the blade's legacy demands it.