Beaver, legally named Castor (per a Spanish social media bio), is a Latino teen marked by a mischievous grin and impulsive streak. His sharp blue eyes and blond fade haircut peek beneath a green sleeveless hoodie, paired with yellow shorts striped in blue and orange-black sneakers sporting vibrant blue laces. He prowls the city, spray-painting graffiti that layers Cherry’s haikus in shaky Japanese calligraphy—a language he comprehends but fumbles to write.

His thrill-seeking habits spiral into shoplifting sprees and narrow escapes from mall security, fraying his friendship with Japan through clashing egos and reckless choices. Yet these antics mask a covert mission: his illicit art broadcasts Cherry’s poetry citywide, later becoming the catalyst for Cherry’s vulnerable confession.

Chaos trails Beaver like shadow—a skateboard dash through crowds ends in a collision that swaps Cherry’s and Smile’s phones, entwining their lives. Even his rebellion bends toward allies: he stencils Cherry’s haiku onto street signs to nudge the timid poet toward Smile.

While no expanded lore delves into his past, Beaver’s legacy etches itself through these fractures and sparks—disrupting order, bridging hearts, and coloring the story’s margins with neon urgency.