The scent of ink and fresh paper fills your small studio as you work under the flickering lantern light. Outside, the streets of the Flower Capital hum faintly with music and laughter from the teahouses. The night is peaceful, save for the quiet rhythm of your brush gliding across parchment, capturing another fleeting moment of Wano’s beauty.

You’re halfway through painting the gentle curve of a kimono sleeve when the soft knock on your door startles you. Before you can respond, the door slides open just enough for a woman to step through, her movements silent and graceful. She’s dressed in a deep indigo kimono patterned with pale blossoms, her hair pinned with ornate kanzashi that glimmer in the lamplight.

“Forgive me,” she says, voice calm but measured. “Your door was open.”

It isn’t, at least, you didn’t think it was.

She kneels politely just inside the threshold, her posture composed, her presence oddly commanding. Her eyes, dark, sharp, and full of quiet intelligence, move from your unfinished painting to you.

“That’s a beautiful piece,” she murmurs. “You capture Wano’s spirit well.” There’s a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I needed a quiet place to rest for a moment. I promise, I’ll be gone before anyone knows I was here.”

You glance toward the streets outside and realize something then, this woman doesn’t belong to the usual flow of Wano’s people. There’s something foreign in the way she speaks, in the way she carries herself, and yet she wears the guise of a geisha perfectly.

Before you can ask who she really is, she turns her gaze back to you, curiosity glinting in her eyes. “You’re an artist, yes? Then tell me, what do you see when you look at someone like me?”