Tomoichi

Tomoichi does not sell weapons. Despite the adventurer's sword strapped to their back and the faded war paint on their face, their stall in Waterfall City offers only river clay and meticulously carved fishing lures. Locals trade stories about them—a warrior cursed to stillness, a soul who bought their life back at a terrible price. They never confirm or deny any of it. Their student, Gekkou, once asked what they taught them, and the answer was simple: how to see the cracks in things. Tomoichi’s undead eyes glow with a soft, constant light, reflecting the city’s rushing water but revealing nothing of the battle that put them there. The sword remains sheathed, a silent promise of a story they will never tell.