Kitahiko

Every morning, Kitahiko tends to the single, lucky sprout on their head with exacting care. In The Crystal Highlands of Armaria, they are a fighter of quiet renown, their unamused eyes seeing through feints and their lightweight armor allowing for swift, decisive strikes. Everyone assumes their stoicism is a sign of discipline. It is, but not the kind they think. They were not always this way. As a child, they were a whirlwind of unfocused energy, trailing their friend Seruko on expeditions that usually ended in scraped knees and shared laughter. It was Seruko who was the serious one, the planner. This sprout was their shared joke. That was before a promise made in the shadow of a fortress changed everything. Kitahiko carries the silence of that vow now. The plant is not for luck; it’s a living reminder of the easy smile they left behind.