Momiyoshi

Momiyoshi slipped past the last of the rock-carved stairs just as the morning drizzle began to fade. "They only ever appear when it rains," a boat-maker by the lower falls will tell you, mending a net. "It's like they walk between the drops." A fruit vendor near the plaza once saw them clearly. "Bought a single persimmon with a coin so cold it felt dredged from the river. They kept adjusting those specs, watching the clouds. They seemed like the sunlight itself was an unwelcome surprise." The temple guards atop Waterfall City have a different theory. They say Momiyoshi isn't hiding, but listening to a conversation only the storm understands. They just leave before anyone is brave enough to offer them tea once the sky clears.