Manoto

Manoto was once the most dramatic trainee at The Dojo. They wore shades even in the dimmest meditation halls, convinced it gave them an air of mystery. They practiced a low growl they thought sounded menacing. During a particularly theatrical sparring match near a forgotten shrine, their exasperated opponent wished aloud they would just drop dead for a second. The shrine, being ancient and terribly literal, obliged. Permanently. Now, Manoto has the exact otherworldly vibe they always craved, but the reality is deeply inconvenient. The growl is no longer optional, making it impossible to order dango quietly, and the shades are less about style and more about hiding the fact their eyes fell out last winter.