Yuhiro

Without fail, the first thing Yuhiro touches each morning is the amulet. They didn't seek it out; they pulled it from the lake by The Dojo, tangled in the weeds on their fishing line. For a week, it was just a pretty trinket, cool against their skin. Then it began to hum, a soft thrumming that warmed their chest during sparring practice. Other trainees noticed the faint glow beneath their Seifuku and started whispering. Yuhiro never wanted the attention. They just wanted to learn the forms and feel the peace of the water. Now, that artifact draws them toward mysteries they feel unequipped to solve, and the embarrassed flush on their cheeks is a constant companion. The grin is still there, but it no longer reaches their eyes.