Erihiko

The fastest staff in the upper city used to belong to a warrior. These days, Erihiko uses their carved cane to tap out rhythms against the wet stone steps, a quiet counterpoint to the roaring falls. They remember when its crack against Futsuki’s spear sent sparks flying across the plaza. Their rivalry was the city's second-loudest noise, a constant challenge fought for pride, technique, and the sharp joy of finding an equal. But their final contest ended without a winner. Mid-parry, Erihiko saw their own reflection in Futsuki's polished armor—not a fierce combatant, just someone tired. They lowered the cane and walked away. When Futsuki visits their teahouse, they glare at the cake slice on Erihiko's head as if it's a new kind of weapon.