Usahiko

The old head warmer Usahiko wears is a simple, frayed thing, a stark contrast to the embroidered silk of their royal cloak. An ambassador, smug from a profitable fishing deal in the plaza below, cornered them on the wide rock stairs leading to the upper city. They sneered at the worn fabric, mistaking it for weakness. "Such sentimentality is unbecoming of your station," the ambassador began, their hand resting on their blade's hilt. Usahiko said nothing. They simply turned their head, letting the spray from the great falls catch the light. For the first time, the ambassador looked past the cloak and the head warmer, and saw the ninja mask beneath. They saw the intense, focused eyes within, promising a consequence far colder than the rushing water. The ambassador's hand fell away from their sword.