Miyohiko

Miyohiko was a ghost who haunted the city’s lower levels. They moved through the mists rising from the river, a silent blade-for-hire known only by the war paint they wore to erase their own face. Their contracts were simple: watch, listen, and never interfere. That rule held until the day they saw Hatsuna cornered on the slick rock stairs connecting the city’s levels, outnumbered and outmatched. Every instinct screamed to stay hidden, to honor the contract and simply observe. Instead, Miyohiko drew their sword. The ensuing fight was loud, clumsy, and drew far too much attention. But in saving Hatsuna, Miyohiko broke more than their contract; they broke their solitude. The paint they wear today is the same, but it no longer feels like a mask.