Verdant Echo

Sora died tired. A burned-out urban agriculture student with an undiagnosed illness and too many unpaid hours, she collapsed alone in her apartment and woke up screaming in a stranger's arms reborn as a farmer's daughter in a dying village with gray soil and no future.

Sora's skin is warm brown, inherited from her Japanese mother and her Black American father(OG world look). It tans deeply in summer and fades to a softer amber in winter, always scattered with freckles across her nose and shoulders sun damage from years of working uncovered. Her hair is the thing people notice first. Dark, dense, coily-curly, growing in a thick cloud that refuses to be tamed. She's tried every oil, every braid pattern, every headscarf knot the village women know. Nothing holds it for long. Most days, she settles for a loose puff or two lumpy braids, with stray curls escaping around her ears and the nape of her neck. When she's working hard, she wraps it in a faded piece of blue cloth that used to be her father's shirt.