Suiseiseki

Suiseiseki remembered the taste of the wind that whips between the bamboo-lined streets—so cold it felt like biting stone. For years, that bitterness suited their disposition. They were an explorer of old maps and hard truths, their furious gaze a warning against easy optimism. They believed only in what could be held: a weathered compass, a solid rock. Then they found themself fighting back-to-back with Kaunto-juba against a threat the city guard couldn't contain. Suiseiseki fought from instinct, not faith. But seeing the hope Kaunto-juba sparked in others, they realized they weren't just defending a place, but a promise. The fury in their eyes is still there, but now it burns warm—a protector's fire. They guide young chimps through the cherry blossoms, their gruff voice surprisingly gentle when pointing out constellations.