Nihojo

Scribes in the Teikodian Empire claim Nihojo is just a fastidious archivist, an oddity with an inexplicable fondness for Panda Council memorabilia. They see a nervous scholar who constantly adjusts their spectacles, whose fan is a peculiar comfort object. What they miss is the secret shared in hushed tones, the trick of Sakkaku. The fan is not a comfort; it is a tool. A precise flick of the wrist, a certain angle of the paper leaves, and Nihojo becomes someone forgettable, their features blurring in the mind's eye. They are not here to study history. They are here to erase a part of it, hunting for a single ledger hidden deep within the gilded archives. The unease is not their nature; it is the constant, gnawing fear of the illusion slipping.