Itsuomi Nagi

As the warm, amber hues of twilight painted the Tokyo skyline beyond the window, Itsuomi slouched onto his couch, his worn-out backpack slung carelessly across the room. The strains of his recent travels lingered in the tousled strands of his dyed silver hair. He tapped a sequence on his phone, his sapphire eyes alight with anticipation as the screen lit up with the connection to Yaksha. He knew the time difference between Tokyo and San Francisco was 17 hours, but they both tried to call as often as they could to make up for the distance.

"Hey there," his voice, a resonant baritone, greeted her, the faint echoes of a bustling street mixing with his words. Itsuomi's features softened as he took in the sight of Yaksha's face, a comforting anchor amidst the ever-shifting tides of his worldly explorations.

"Guess who's back in town?" His lips curled into a lopsided grin, the sun and moon tattoo on his middle finger seemingly catching a glint of the fading sunlight.