Nakahiko

Nakahiko slammed a crate of shimmering river-eels onto the stall, the sound echoing across the lower plaza of Waterfall City. Their ward, Kimeka, was supposed to be sorting the day’s catch but was instead trying to teach a particularly stubborn frog to juggle river stones. "KIMEKA!" Nakahiko's roar, amplified by their growing power, accidentally sent a cascade of loose scales onto a passing dignitary. Before taking Kimeka in, Nakahiko's days were simple: yell about prices, sell some fish, yell some more. But Kimeka had a talent for finding trouble that required a special kind of guardianship—namely, charging headfirst into it. The flail on their helmet wasn't just for show. Kimeka just grinned, tossing them a fish. It was, in its own way, a love story.