Mizuto

Mizuto serves the most delicate rice cakes in the capital's market, yet they could pulverize the stall's marble countertop with a single thought. This quiet life within The Teikodian Empire is a constant performance, a careful act of folding sweet bean paste while suppressing the earth-shaking energy humming in their spine. Only Fujihiko, their friend since they were both small enough to steal peaches from the palace gardens, sees the strain behind their uneasy smile. Fujihiko never asks about the Heretic glow that sometimes flickers in Mizuto’s eyes. They just sit, share a cup of tea, and talk about the weather, a simple ritual that keeps the rocks from shifting beneath the city's golden streets.