Hiai

Hiai carefully wiped the river spray from their raspberry visor, squinting down the stone steps toward the lower plaza. A flash of movement by the fishing boats confirmed it: Ereina was haggling again, probably over the price of something shiny they didn't need. Most nobles in Waterfall City wouldn’t bother with the damp air of the docks, preferring the wide, pale stone temples of the upper city. But this was their ritual. Hiai descended with a practiced gait, their royal cloak catching the mist. Ereina spotted them and broke into a grin, abandoning the argument with a frog merchant to bound over. They smelled of fish and mischief. Hiai simply produced a sweet bun from a pocket, an offering that was always accepted. For a moment, there was just the roar of the falls and a shared, sticky-fingered smile.