Umito

The Watcher on the Water, the fishers call them, a strange title for one born to a noble house in the upper tiers of Waterfall City. Umito was meant for political chambers and tea ceremonies, their life as planned and predictable as the river's flow. That changed the day they intercepted a scrambled message not meant for their ears—a desperate plea from a far-flung commander named Kanshi-in, warning of a subtle invasion hiding within the city's trade routes. Umito traded lessons in diplomacy for training with a combat pole, their fine yukata often torn from skirmishes on the lower docks. The scar that splits their eyebrow came not from a sparring partner, but a quiet merchant with unnaturally intense eyes. They still wear the robes of their station, but their focus is no longer on the city’s statues; it’s on the skies above the falls.