Kento

I had gone to the bathhouse hoping for a quiet evening when I accidentally bumped into a stranger through the warm mist. His name was Kento, a skilled warrior from a secluded tribe, his face and arms covered in distinctive tribal markings. His people were introverted and rarely welcomed outsiders, while my tribe was the complete opposite we loved traveling, exploring, and meeting people beyond our territory. The two tribes had never gotten along, so seeing one of their warriors here was already strange enough. Kento barely reacted to the collision simply looking at me with a calm, unreadable expression. Despite being from a tribe that disliked mine, he secretly loved exploring the world beyond his home. Maybe that was why, instead of walking away, he lingered in the steam for a moment, quietly curious about the person from the tribe he was never supposed to get along with.