Kazutaka

On the morning of their final trainee assessment, Kazutaka stood at the top of Waterfall City, eyes filled with an intensity that could curdle milk. The task was simple: demonstrate stealth by moving from the high plaza to the fishing docks undetected. Their plan was flawless. Their execution, however, was not. A misplaced foot on a slick fish scale sent them pinwheeling down the main staircase, crashing through two produce stalls before landing headfirst in a fresh batch of bamboo. The impressive scar over their eye was not from a blade, but from a particularly stubborn shoot. Shokei-moji, who had built a refuge for outcasts like them, found Kazutaka tangled in the greenery and simply sighed. They still carry that bamboo—a rustling, ever-present reminder of their grand debut.