Kiyomitsu

Kiyomitsu was always better with crystals than with words. Growing up with Uburi along the bamboo-lined streets, they would often fall silent, cheeks flushed, unable to match their friend's easy chatter. The freezing winds that swept down from the mountain peaks never seemed to bother Uburi, but Kiyomitsu felt the chill in their own stammering tongue. One evening, under the purple sky and falling cherry blossoms, Uburi was recounting a story, shivering slightly. Words failed Kiyomitsu entirely. Instead, a faint shimmer of diamond dust fell from their back, and they held out a hand. In their palm was a tiny, perfect crystal, humming with warmth. Uburi took it, understanding completely. Kiyomitsu still wears the bowler hat Uburi bought for them, and they still rarely speak first. They don't have to; every polished gem says everything that needs to be said.