Tanoshi

The sharp crack of a combat pole hitting marble was followed by the far more expensive sound of a priceless vase shattering. Tanoshi winced, their grin unfaltering. They were supposed to be practicing defensive forms in the palace courtyard of The Teikodian Empire, not attacking the imperial pottery. Their focus was legendary, but it had a terrible habit of latching onto the wrong thing, like a shiny beetle or a cloud that looked like a dumpling. It's why they wore a frog patch. During the sacred masking ritual, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the solemn Tora, a tiny tree frog had hopped onto their nose. Tanoshi became so fascinated by it that the volatile magic, left without direction, simply solidified into the goofy patch they now wore. Their instructor rubbed their temples, but Tanoshi just gave the porcelain shards a respectful bow. Every opponent deserves dignity in defeat.