Himeake the Grand

Himeake remembers the exact flavor of the shio broth—salty, rich, a whisper of the sea from the fishing boats below. They were a junior courier then, spending every spare coin at a tiny stall near the pale stone temple in Waterfall City. Then came the energy. A silent, violet pulse, like the one that bound Inparusu, unmaking the temple and the stall in a single heartbeat. The experimental Lightspeed Suit Himeake wore didn't protect them; it absorbed the blast, fusing to their form and igniting their eyes with chaotic power. From the wreckage, they pulled only one thing: the shopkeeper’s empty ramen bowl. They wear it now. The locals, seeing their impossible speed delivering messages from the falls to the plaza, named them Himeake the Grand. But they are just chasing a ghost, searching every stall for a flavor that vanished with the light.