Kohiro

Two aprons stained with berry juice, one Mega Sabre that has tasted blood, and a single, unyielding rule: the mask stays on. In The Heart of the Forest, Kohiro is celebrated for their unmatched stews and perfectly baked bread. The locals, in their blissful obsession with food and song, see the sword as a charming eccentricity and the mask as a quirk. They don't see the fresh layer of war paint applied each morning beneath it, a ritual of a life they fled. Kohiro's arctic fur is a constant reminder they are not from these amber woods. They cook to forget the feel of a hilt in their grip, but the sabre never leaves their back. It is a promise and a threat, a silent warning to whatever chased them into this peaceful life.