Nakomi

When the moon rises high enough to turn the waterfall’s spray to silver, they feel the pull of their second life. By day, they are a picture of nobility in a pink yukata, performing the quiet duties expected of their line in the temples that straddle the rushing water. But that is a role, a careful construction. The truth began with a whispered plot overheard in the lower city’s fishing markets, a danger their peers would dismiss with a polite wave. That night, they traded ceremony for silence and a silk fan for cold steel. This ninja mask is more honest than the serene face they present to their family. It hides their identity, yes, but it reveals a purpose that the city's constant roar conveniently drowns out.