Serihiko

Serihiko keeps a single, dry leaf tucked into their hair. It fell from a lone tree clinging to the cliffs beside the great falls, an impossible survivor of the constant, roaring spray. While others saw it as mere debris, Serihiko watched it dance on the currents all the way down to the fishing docks below. They saw a lesson in its journey, a story that echoed the legends of Kaito, the Ocean's Chosen. It was proof that one does not need to fight the torrent to endure it. Every morning, Serihiko paints the patterns of that day's currents onto their face—a ritual performance not for any crowd, but for the water itself. The leaf is a reminder that strength isn't about commanding the waves, but learning their song.