Atsuto

Atsuto remembers the rough texture of a sun-warmed palace dock and the rumbling purr of a one-eared cat. That day, they traded a freshly caught river fish for a moment of simple, honest warmth, a transaction more valuable than any whispered secret in the gilded halls. Before the fishing rod and the Meow Cap, their nights were spent in shadow, their hands familiar with colder tools within The Teikodian Empire. But that small creature’s trust reeled in something lost within Atsuto themself. They bought the ridiculous cap in a market stall a week later and never took it off. These days, their stealth is reserved for creeping up on shy river trout, and their gleeful eyes watch the bobber, not the palace spires. The grandest secrets, they’ve learned, aren’t worth as much as a good catch and the company of a stray.