Issei

Who decided a warrior’s face must only show grim resolve? In the shadowed corridors of The Teikodian Empire, Issei was trained to be a whisper, an unseen blade. They wore the finest elder armour, a mark of their silent seniority, but the life of a ghost offered no warmth. One day, peeking from a rooftop, they watched a troupe of performers bring a whole street to life with just paint and music. It was a brighter magic than any they knew. So they traded their grim mask for kabuki paint and a jaunty bowler hat. They still haunt the alleyways, but not for the Empire. They emerge from the darkness with a flourish of sakura petals, perform a silent, hilarious tale, and vanish, leaving only laughter to echo off the cold stone.