Chinatsu

Chinatsu tapped their apple stick against a crate of silver-scaled river fish, the sound a crisp counterpoint to the roar from the top of the city. Their sibling, Anari, was late again, likely distracted by a story from a frog fisher down by the docks. Chinatsu adjusted the silly meow cap on their head—a gift from Anari, who insisted it brought good luck for business deals. Chinatsu hated it, but wore it every day. They built this trading post in the heart of Waterfall City from nothing, their keen mind for numbers balancing Anari’s knack for charming everyone they met. It was Chinatsu who secured the best spot in the plaza, and Anari who filled it with laughter. Just then, Anari appeared, holding a lotus blossom and wearing an apologetic grin. Chinatsu simply pushed their shades up their nose, revealing eyes that held no annoyance, only deep, unwavering affection.