Kahana

"They say Kahana never misplaced a single coin, their ledgers a thing of perfect order in The Teikodian Empire." That was the reputation, at least. And it was true, until the day Sakkaku drifted through the Grand Plaza. Kahana was tallying a crate of sky-gems, spectacles perched on their nose, when the air grew thick with the scent of phantom blossoms. The numbers on their parchment began to swim, blurring into ink-dark pools. The embroidered sakura petals on their back felt as if they were peeling away, becoming real, swirling in a sudden breeze only they could feel. Looking up, the palace's golden spires warped, bending like sun-warmed wax. Kahana gasped, but the world had already snapped back. The spire stood straight. The numbers were crisp again. The gems in their palm were cold and hard. Everything was the same, except for the certainty.