Toshinori

Every morning, Toshinori takes their fishing rod down to the misty outskirts of Waterfall City, a silent duck named Mr. Quack perched on their head. They were told their furious eyes were a warrior's gift, a sign of inner fire perfect for the city's defense. For years, they tried to stoke it, practicing with spears in the grand plaza while maintaining a stony poker face. But their hands always felt more at home with the patient weight of a fishing line. One day, a rival mocked the rod as a toy. Toshinori didn't draw a blade. With a single, fluid cast, their line snagged the opponent's sword and sent it clattering away. There was no rage in the movement, only calm precision. It was then they realized their fire wasn't for burning—it was for focus.