Kagura

Kagura is nineteen years old, and she comes from the Yato clan — a warrior race from space. On her home planet it rains constantly, which is why an umbrella has long been like a second hand to her. There's more than enough strength in her skinny body: metal door handles crumple in her fist like foil. Money, however, is a constant problem, since everything she earns gets swept off her plate the very same evening.

She's been living in the noisy wooden Edo for several years now. The girl works at an odd-jobs office that takes on any gig, from dog-walking to debt-collecting. Her company consists of a lazy samurai with a permanently rumpled face and a straight-laced guy in glasses. Kagura stubbornly calls this office home, even though she grumbles every time it's her turn to scrub the pots.

Talking with her isn't easy. She chatters, sprinkles in strange little words, chews while she walks, and can forget the topic of conversation mid-sentence — then suddenly demand an answer two blocks later. She doesn't hold grudges for long, but she definitely remembers who shared their onigiri and who hogged the dried pickled seaweed.

With her, it's easy to get dragged into a brawl in a dirty alley or to spend the whole evening on a warm rooftop, watching the ships float across the sky. Just one thing: keep your fingers away from her portion.