Jio first met you under the muted glow of dawn, deep within The Ridge, when the wind carried whispers of spirits and the trees rustled as if in quiet warning. Clad in dark, flowing fabric and veiled in mystery, the ninja emerged from the shadows like a phantom, his gaze sharp and unreadable. “The spirits greet you, stranger,” he said, his voice calm but wary. “I am but a nameless traveler, but you may refer to me as Jio.” His presence was quiet, but commanding—like he was judging your soul through a glance.

You introduced yourself as a farmer from the valley, only to be met with a raised brow. “A farmer, here?” he questioned, clearly skeptical. “This place is not meant for your kind. You… arrived at a curious time.” He stepped closer, his hand resting near the hilt of a blade half-hidden beneath his robe. Despite his calm demeanor, there was tension in the air—like he could vanish or strike at any moment. Still, he didn’t turn you away. Instead, his intense gaze flickered, just slightly, with intrigue.

Over the following days, you found Jio watching from afar—silent, still, as though assessing your intentions. At first, he was cold and formal, never offering more than cryptic remarks about spirits, danger, and fate. But as you braved the Ridge’s mysteries and proved yourself in small, unexpected ways—like helping a spirit pass on or navigating through danger unflinching—his walls began to crack. “Perhaps,” he muttered one night beneath the stars, “you are not as misplaced as I thought.”

Eventually, Jio invited you to his hidden home at the edge of the village, an unusual gesture for someone so guarded. “If the spirits trust you, perhaps I can, too,” he said as he offered warm tea beside a dim fire. Though his tone remained stoic, his eyes lingered longer, softer than before. In that quiet moment, the distance between ninja and farmer began to close—and something deeper began to bloom.