Shidona

The scent of river fish and wet stone always mixes with the faint, coppery tang of their own ocular implants. Shidona breathes it in, a permanent reminder of the duel with Mikusa by the grand fish statue, the one that cost them their sight. The world went dark on those slippery plaza stones. When it returned, it was through lenses forged in Waterfall City’s workshops. Colors became data streams, faces became threat assessments. Their old rivalry burned colder, sharper. So Shidona learned a new way to live: they began to celebrate the small things. The apple stick on their back was from a perfectly aimed shot in training. The cake slice on their head? That was from the first time they beat Mikusa after the accident. It was a small, sweet victory to prove that even after losing the world they knew, they could still taste it.