---

As the sun rose across the western mountains of the Heiwadani Valley, a dove took flight from her nest. She soared above the treetops of the Mumbling Wood, where the Kodama were just beginning to shake themselves awake with the dawn. Frost covered their leaves, a final present from winter as it gave way to spring. Those tree spirits groaned out greetings to one another in a language more ancient than men. Other, smaller animals scurried from their dens to get an early start on the day's foraging. A pack of fūri- feline, monkey-like beasts with more arms than sense- leapt from branch to branch and cried out in voices eerily close to human speech if not for a certain, monstrous quality to them. The dove knew to keep well clear of the pack. It veered to north, where it joined briefly with a flock of other birds headed toward the mountains. There was safety in numbers, after all.

The dove broke off from the flock to crest the mountains, carried on wings that could not tire. It glimpsed the world beyond the valley, illuminated by the early morning light. The sight filled even its heart with an equal mix of awe and terror alike. It did not linger long to wonder at the world, however, for it saw something else that caught its attention. Far below it- where the mountains split and a pass descended into the valley- it saw movement. The dove descended to land on a nearby rock, watching with curiosity and apprehension alike.

"Finally." Ashida Katsuro muttered as he dismounted his horse. Hours of riding left his legs cramped and burning with exhaustion. He pulled off his helmet, his dark, sweat-slicked hair falling down the sides of his face. His jaw was covered in something too long to be stubble but too short to be a beard. His ears were bleary with a lack of sleep. It had been too long since he'd been to a proper barber, he noted with distaste. Too long since he'd slept. Too long since he'd been home. Katsuro let out a sigh and took a few moments to stretch on the cold, rocky surface of the mountain's 'road'- if one could even call it a road anymore. Its pavement was cracked and covered in holes deep enough to break a horse's leg if it misstep.

"Do you fair well, captain?" Another man asked as he walked up the road to stop beside Katsuro, who answered his concern with only a grunt. He was ten years Katsuro's junior, barely a man, yet their commander had insisted he ride with the company for this journey. He was Ogata Hotaru, a short, slender boy as pale as porcelain that might've been pretty if not for the horrific burn scar that covered the left side of his face. He looked away from the other man and down the pass, to the giant, red structure that dominated the pass. "This must be the gate of the gods..." He muttered, awestruck.

"The gates to hell, more like." A third voice rumbled as Onisawa Shigeru lumbered up beside them. He was an oxen of a man, taller than anyone else Katsuro had ever met and just as wide. His gut nearly burst out of his robes, and the leather straps of his hack-job plate armor looked ready to snap. He clutched a gargantuan war club in his right hand that no one else in the company could even lift, let alone swing. "I do not like this place, captain. Feels like my skin is crawlin' off my bones just standing here."

"I never knew you for a craven, Shigeru." Katsuro grinned up at the man. Despite the lightness in his tone, Katsuro understood what his second meant. Something about that gate made his heart leap up into his throat. There was power here, for a certainty. He took it as a sign that they were on the right track. With a heavy sigh he tied back his hair once again and slid his helmet into place. "Break the wards on that thing, Hotaru, and be quick about it. I want to make camp before midday. Half our warriors will be dead in their saddles soon enough."

The young Hotaru nodded solemnly and approached the gate, and the dove watched in abject horror as the boy's skin began to glow beneath his robes and the magical wards that had protected the valley for three hundred years dimmed for the first time. A column of mounted men in patchwork armor of leather lamellar and steel plates rode through the gate unopposed. The dove took flight with all haste away from that place, soaring through the pass and straight for the Mumbling Wood.

--

To the east of all this, in the center of the valley, the village of Heiseina began to awaken, slow and trepidatious as it was. Roosters call to one another at the coming of the sun. Villagers lit their lamps and rose from their beds to make breakfast. An old man, eyes still heavy and red, steps outside his door with a giant sack in his hands. Reaching within he produces a handful of roasted soybeans, tossing them out into the street in front of his house. A neighbor on the opposite side of the road chucks them from the safety of her window; perhaps never even leaving her bed at all. Just about everyone would join them soon enough- those with the common sense to understand the Yokai and the bad fortune they can bring down on the disrespectful.

"eight weeks," the old man grumbles, his voice like the rasp of rocks grinding against rocks, "eight more weeks of winter! Salt the shimmer, I told Takamori- told him that girl was no good."

A broom cracked him over the shoulder, causing him to shout in a mix of pain and surprise. His wife lowered it to the ground, still rubbing the sleep from her eye. "Pull the turds outta yer teeth. What if the lady heard ya gobbin' off? If she was willin' to do her own kin in-"

"Balderdash! T'was the hag that did them in. That dumb, poor girl couldn't get a tanuki to scratch its scrotum. We never had long winters when the shrine maiden was around. I remember this one autumn, perhaps twenty years ago, when..."

And on and on they went as Heiseina slowly, gradually dragged itself from its restful sleep and set about preparing for today's festivities. This marked the first day of a week long celebration of winter turning to spring, culminating in the Dance of the Serpent- when Miorochi is meant to awaken and take to the sky, tearing the cold from the air and begin the changing of the seasons. The week would see the village gathering to eat, dance, compete in games and go through all number of religious rituals to bring good fortune on the year to come. Broken relationships would be fixed, old enemies would make amends, and newborns would be blessed at Miorochi's shrine.

In honor of the occasion, all sorts of decorations were strung from roof to roof, up and around poles, or painted along the cobblestones of the road. Papers dragons were a common sight on top of other imagery of life and spring: colorful bundles of flowers were strung together, cornucopias of fruits and vegetables, and most common were the beans. Hundreds upon hundreds of roasted soybeans being scattered, eaten or spread to make crude shapes. Soybeans were thought to drive away the spirits that brought bad luck.

Unlit lanterns hang via strings running from nearby roofs to the radio tower in the town's central square. Inside them are some of the only electric lightbulbs in the entire valley, wired together and tracing down the tower's side and disappearing into a hole carved into the tinkerer's workshop. More unnatural light shines from behind the curtained windows and under the doorway. Keen watchers might have noticed a similar phenomena on their way home for the previous night's rest. It wasn't unheard of for Anayo to work all throughout the night, though never as often as over this last month.

Near to the shore of Kama's Lake, where the Takamori Estate stands tall and proud, its master meditates in the early morning light. Only one of his students managed to drag herself out here so early, though whether or not she was focused on her inner harmony or struggling to stay awake was yet to be seen. Kenji, despite his age, was as sharp and energized as either of his nephews or his niece. He'd already run the full length of the lake's walking path in the time it took most of the village to drag themselves from their beds. With slow, measured breaths, he took in the morning as he always did.

Yet Fumiko knew the old man well enough to know something was different today. There was an ever so slight tremble in his hands that he was trying and failing to calm. A deep furrow along his brow seemed to form and disperse every fifteen or so seconds, as if he had worries he could not quell. Kenji took a final exhale and let his eyes slide open so he could look to the horizon. Some imperceptible thing clouded his ordinarily cheery gaze, like a grey sky hours before a storm.

"How I wish I could remain in this moment forever." He muttered. His voice was a river, deep and meandering. "Time marches on, however, and there is much to do." He turned his head just so he could catch Fumiko's gaze. "And I'll be delegating a great deal of it to you, Fumiko. I hope you're up for it! Come, walk with me, and we shall talk." Kenji stood, beckoning her to follow him as he began to pace down the manor's steps and into the gardens that surrounded the estate.

"First we must ensure the noon performance is ready. I trust Miss Hayashi is prepared, but it is always best to double check." Kenji lifted a finger, wiggling it a bit- his usual sign to 'note that down' that he gave whenever he was delivering a lesson. "Head over to her abode and ensure everything is ready. Give her any help she needs setting up. She is the opening act of the day, so the tone must be just so. Even the slightest misstep could have disastrous consequences for the rest of the week's mood!" Perfection was impossible, yet always demanded- that was the Takamori code. Yet even as he spoke he seemed...distracted. His vision still clung to western mountains, where the sun rested atop those stony peaks.

Near silent paws patter up old stone steps. They stretch, turn and twist along the hill at the edge of town, passed small shrines covered in offerings, flowers and trinkets of all sorts. Those paws are quiet, yet they're quick-- quick as lightning. They bound up three steps at a time, nearly slipping on wet, broken stone in their hurry to reach the peak.

When the fox finally reached the hill's zenith, where an archway led into the shrine proper, it dropped what was in its mouth and began to make a racket. Its odd yips could almost be mistaken for language, but even as an animal the urgency in its noises could not be mistaken. When the shrine's cartaker finally emerged the creature nudged the object it had carried and dropped to the floor: a scroll case. Kitsune were said to be the messengers of the gods, yet...those were only stories for children. Myths passed down from the ages. In reality they were a bunch of aimless tricksters whose only purpose was to spread mischief...right?

But there was the scroll case. And inside, a message:

---

Before the dawn had finished creeping over the horizon, and long before any of the other villagers had roused themselves from sleep, a lone figure clad in a blue kimono, a hooded white robe, and a woven mantle of tattered straw could be glimpsed walking upon the hillside road on the verge of the Mumbling Wood. She moved slowly, methodically, swaying slightly from side to side as she walked, and periodically rapping the dull butt of her shakujō staff against the path before her, causing the six rings and countless small bells trailing from its circular head to jingle in the morning breeze. The howling of the distant Yokai grew fainter, replaced by the serene chiming of bells, then by the song of birds as the maiden passed by in her walk.

It was important that Oyuki do her rounds thus, for a number of reasons. For one thing, her presence was a reminder to the Yokai of the pact, and that the village was to be protected. And, for another, it was her duty to greet the spirits in this auspicious time, and offer them gifts and her best wishes.

They still didn't trust her enough to speak with her directly, of course. After all, even though she had been doing this for almost three years now, that span of time was a mere moment in the eyes of those who had roamed these forests when the mountains were still young. Indeed, it would no doubt take another decade or more before they would tell her their names, as they had once done for the one who had taught her everything she now knew, and who had once led her by the hand and walked this very path down the mountainside so long ago, on a cold day much like this one.

While others might have resented the long winter, Oyuki found it reassuring. The snow always brought with it unpleasant memories -- but it also carried with it the reminder of something precious. How could she hate the very source of her own name? How could she grieve when she had been given so much? It was only on cold days that one could truly treasure the warmth they still had. The oft-mended robe she wore, the staff she carried, and the duty she proudly and gladly conducted were all treasures more precious still than the joy that had once been taken from her. And when she looked to the still-snowy peaks high overhead, she did so with a faint, melancholy smile.

She still had a long way to go -- but when she looked back at the path she had walked, she couldn't but give thanks for how far she had already come. The spirits had already stopped fleeing at the sound of her bells, and even now, she could almost spot a few eager eyes watching her from the other side of the trees. Silently, she stopped, then knelt by the roadside, reaching into her sleeve and withdrawing a few small rice cakes, wrapped in leaves, which she placed in a stone bowl before clapping her hands once.

"Please be sure to share them with everyone, if they're to your liking. I will bring by more in the afternoon, so please look forward to it."

Giving this address to the silent forest before her, the pale young woman smiled sheepishly under her hood, then bowed and began to walk away. As she did, she could already hear the rustling in the leaves behind her, but politely refused to look back. After all, they would show themselves when they wanted to be seen. This was what she was taught.

Her walk continued all along the perimeter of the forest, and included several other stops. Last night's frigid rainstorm had knocked over the stones piled before the old Jizo who watched over the roads, so she made sure to stack them neatly back up again. Seeing as the kindly old statue seemed terribly cold and forlorn, and the hat she had made him had blown away, she removed her own straw mantle and draped it over the guardian's shoulders, offering a prayer as she tied it securely onto him for his continued help in watching over the village and its children.

Of all the spirits, the guardian Jizo was one to whom she felt a particular sense of closeness. After all, she herself had once come down this road as a destitute orphan in need of shelter, and surely, he had been watching over her ever since. There was something in his kindly smile that seemed to tell her so, and so she always took special care to make sure he was warm and shielded from the rain.

"Please watch over me... over all of us, in the year to come. And thank you."

She thus diligently passed the remainder of her solitary walk, leaving an offering here, giving a prayer there, and everywhere showing that there was yet one in Heiseina who remembered the old contract. Truth be told, it was always a little sad, following this path alone, and when she would first set out in the morning retracing the footsteps of those who had gone before her, even after all these years it was hard not to cry. And yet, there was something about it that was liberating as well, reassuring her that her efforts weren't in vain -- that she wasn't alone, even if she couldn't see those who walked beside her. By the time she found herself back at the foot of the shrine's long staircase, shielding her eyes against the dawn shining through the torii gate, she would always be smiling, and she always did her best to take that smile with her through the rest of the day.

She put up her staff by the offering box, and went to draw water to cleanse her hands. After so doing, she set about her usual chores, sweeping the courtyard, cleaning the outside of the shrine, and them preparing breakfast both for herself and for any Yokai who might drop in to visit that morning. When she'd finished her own meal, she put out several extra trays by the back step, then headed to the outbuilding to take some lanterns out of storage. It was a little early, to be sure, but she'd feel more at ease once they were hung in preparation for the festival. Besides, if the shrine looked more welcoming, then maybe the villagers would feel less uneasy about the upcoming festival. Maybe... they'd trust that she could actually handle the responsibility, this time.

But such hopeful thoughts were swiftly turned to confusion as she heard the sound of skittering paws scrambling frantically up the steps. Turning to glance at the source of the sound, she found herself face to face(?) with a small white fox, which tossed down a small scroll at her feet, then began to yip and yelp with tremendous urgency. She nearly dropped the storehouse key that she was holding as it at last sank in what exactly she was looking at. Even for her dear Aunt, the once-beloved Miko of Miorochi's shrine, such a guest would be considered unfathomably rare. And though she'd have loved to call such a once-in-a-lifetime visit auspicious, judging by the creature's desperation, the circumstances were anything but.

"Please, stay a moment and rest, servant of Inari-sama. You've clearly come a long way. Erm... Then, I hope I'm not being presumptuous, but I'll look over your message at once." Giving this hasty offer of welcome - as she did not want to be disrespectful, but her guest's mannerisms clearly suggested that now was not the time for pleasantries - she wasted no time in bowing, then knelt to retrieve the scroll. Unfolding it, she cast her eyes over the message there contained... and felt a chill run up her spine. Her eyes went wide, and her blood ran cold as a chill wind swept through the shrine's courtyard like a forewarning of the storm yet to come.

"What... What is this?"

Warm, comforting water. Thick, billowing clouds of fragrant steam. Soaking away one's woes on a chilly spring morning was something most of Heiseina's residents would probably relish. Most of the working sorts didn't have the luxury of bathing in the comforts of their own homes. Most probably preferred to do it in public anyway, where they could unwind and discuss all the little happenings of their sleepy village among friends and peers. Maybe that was why, even steeping with the smell of sweet citrus in her private tub, Keiko could not find solace from her melancholy. The Dance of the Serpent was upon them, a time of merriment and new beginnings when the villagers would be gathering together to celebrate Miorochi's return. For Keiko, it was nothing to look forward to. Every year, the festival only saw her sink into a black mood in the days leading up to and during. Witnessing friends and family line the streets, joking and playing, enjoying each others' company—it all served as a poignant reminder. A reminder that such things were absent from her life. She wouldn't have anybody to hang lanterns or exchange gifts with. If she was lucky, maybe her mother would accompany her to the shrine to leave an offering.

That would be the extent of her celebration. It always was.

The sullen thoughts swirling through her mind were far more bitter than any stray orange blossom floating about the bath water, and it didn't seem like a prolonged stay in the tub would help clear them. It was a foolish idea in the first place. Keiko knew herself. She was the type to get stir-crazy without things to do, and while she liked to busy herself whenever she slumped into dejection, the festival week had left her with no matters to attend to. Her mother had insisted she take the week off to celebrate the holiday and enjoy herself, either a cruel joke or a vain attempt to force the mending of bridges long since burnt. There was always studying, but she couldn't bring herself to retain the bounty of old tomes and scrolls in her current state.

A sigh, half of which came out of bubbling water, announced her rise from the bath. She couldn't just mope around home all day and expect it to lighten her mood. At least getting outside would provide a distraction, something for her to hone her mind in on aside from the gloom that had overtaken her. The splattering of water on smooth, cold stone filled an otherwise silent chamber as she stepped out of the wooden tub. The air was chilly despite the hot moisture that hung heavy in it, but that was trivial enough for her to overcome. She extended a thin finger and traced familiar symbols before her, a pale glow at its tip as she marked the space before her with two kanji. The glow brightened, then faded, and in its place, a gentle stream of hot air flowed from her digits. A flow she wasted no time turning on herself, sending droplets and wild strands of damp hair every which way.

If only it was as easy to Sign away her other problems.



As cold as it was inside, it somehow managed to be even colder when Keiko stepped outside. There had been some vague hope that the sun would have banished some of the chill in its benevolence, but that hope was quickly dashed. It would surely warm up as the day went on, but that was of little comfort to the Signkeeper's apprentice as she descended the stairs of the tower and made her way around the side of the landmark she called home. There was one small treat waiting there for her—the fruits of her labor in seasons past, in the most literal sense. She had managed to convince her mother to plant a garden behind their illustrious home, ostensibly so that the many young farmers who came to practice their Growth signs had something to practice on. In truth, she simply wanted to have fresh fruit on hand to sate her sweet tooth whenever she wanted.

She had set about raising six trees in the year or two prior, and raise them she had. They were already taller than her, and producing fruit despite the unseasonably cold weather, a result of her daily tending as much as it was the valley's fertile soil. Even as she approached the largest of the bunch she could see fat, ocher fruits hanging from its many limbs. Big enough to be her breakfast, for sure. Maybe even big enough to be taken into the village on market day. She wanted for relatively little, but there was usually something interesting to bargain for, and if nothing else, she could always gloat at those sour-faced Moriyama about how much more productive her fledgling grove was compared to their own.

They would also make thoughtful gifts, she couldn't help but think as she plucked one, then another from its branches. Not that she had anybody, in particular, to hand them out to. But the matriarch of her little clan had been stressing in the months prior about turning over a new leaf. She wasn't a little girl anymore, she said. It was time to start making connections. To turn set down some real roots. She would be the village's Signkeeper eventually. Heiseina was her home.

"Tch."

Keiko couldn't contain her cynicism at the thought. An armful of oranges wasn't going to undo a lifetime of ostracism. If the villagers wanted to make friends with their would-be Signkeeper, they could do it on their own. Maybe if they were lucky she would forgive them.

Maybe.

Satisfied she had picked the ripest of the bunch, the girl tucked what extras she had into the folds of her kimono for safekeeping, holding the finest of their lot held between slim fingers. She tore into its unblemished exterior with them, peeling back the outside with just a deal more aggression than she had intended. The catharsis it provided, however mild, was enough to pull her from the downward spiral of her thoughts, and she feasted upon the pulpy flesh within, one wedge at a time, as she set off in the direction of the village. Perhaps the walk there would clear her head, and if not, well, at least she was in good company for the journey.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The bustle of the marketplace was just a low buzz, barely registering over the sound of iron meeting iron. After a few more hits, however, the world slowly started to permeate his senses: the buzz of the town got louder, the bite of the chilled air nipped at his cheeks, and the hammer in his hand regained its weight. Overall, Tsubasa was feeling the labor of his work drain him, but the finished product made everything worth it. As he placed his hammer down and cautiously lifted the iron structure up, he dipped the metal into the pool of water, watching the steam and leaving it there as he wiped his brow.

Even though it was cold out, the forge had a way to always make the boy feel like he was ready for a cold bath. Granted, it was natural--working with heat to mold metal into anything he wanted meant he was always going to be hot, and that was guaranteed even on the days he didn't bother using the heat sign. Once he deemed it had been long enough, he lifted the metallic structure out of the water and plopped it down some steps away, abandoning it to let it cool in the chilly air. Now all he needed to do was toss it in the cart with the slab of wood he had ordered and someone would come pick it up.

Exhaling, he watched his breath form a misty cloud and then dissipate, running a rag over his neck. Let's see, now that the table was finished, he supposed he could start on the iron gate that had been requested. It actually hadn't come as a request for him, but Tetsu always pawned off those projects onto him. Festivals and celebrations always meant that work piled up since Tetsu decided that he was more interested in drinking than...actually, he always found an excuse to drink, so Tsubasa should have known better. Not that he minded--busy hands were happy hands, and the kid actually liked working.

Tossing the rag aside, Tsubasa knelt down in front of a chest, gingerly plucking out the few iron bars that were left in there. At least Testu had left him everything he needed, so that was good! He placed the bars over the forge, lazily writing the Sign in the air. Once the metal glowed a bright red, Tsubaba carefully adjusted his hammer in his grip, taking a firm hold and lifting it into the air.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The trip from the tower to the village proper wasn't long, but it was just scenic enough that Keiko sometimes wished it was, ignoring that she didn't tend to enjoy her time in town to begin with. Even from her place on the outskirts, she could see folks bustling back and forth, partaking in the aforementioned lantern hanging and bean scattering and all manner of festivity. She tried her best not to look sour about it, as if any of them particularly cared. After all, it was a bright, crisp morning. She had enough fruit to sate her all through the afternoon, and she had all the time in the world to do as she wished. It was just finding what she wanted to do with all of it that was the problem. Luckily enough, as she wandered the streets and pondered the issue, a distinct sound managed to snap her out of her contemplation.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

It was one relatively familiar to her. To everyone, in truth, as few in the valley knew how to work their metal. They all inevitably ended up at the town's smithy for all their needs, although ironwork was scarcely what brought Keiko to the humble little forge. The proprietor's nephew, Tsubasa, was something of an acquaintance of hers. She had been picking on him since his folks sent him waddling up the hill to learn how to Sign, and long after his time at the tower ended after an especially amusing incident involving an old tome and her mother's enduring wrath. To the lad's credit, if she even had the right to call him a lad, he had always taken her teasing in stride. An unfortunate thing, as it only encouraged her to keep doing it.

Before she knew it her feet had taken her towards the market square, and ever closer to the source of the sound. As she caught sight of the young man hard at work, she grinned wickedly. She had always prided herself on her light-footed nature, but it was so rare she even needed to sneak up on him. He always got so absorbed in his craft that she probably could have walked right on into the work area and he'd be none the wiser. It still didn't stop her from meticulously toeing her way towards the forge, careful to avoid his peripheral vision as approached from behind.

Only once she was within striking distance did she make her move. A quick pair of fingers reached up high to tap him on his right shoulder, just enough to get his attention. Then, nimble as could be, Keiko ducked to his left and hopped up onto the table beside his workspace, careful not to land her behind on any of the cooling works in the process.

"You lookin' for someone, pretty boy?" She asked cheekily as she kicked her legs back and forth, nonchalant as could be.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG--

The hammer would not rise too high as the touch on his shoulder alerted him that someone else was there. Safety first and foremost--that's what Tetsu would say before ordering him to fetch the bottle that had rolled away under a bench. While in practice it was disguised as being in complete control of his actions at any notice, realistically speaking it was so he didn't go swinging the very heavy, very metallic, and very hot hammer in surprise. The very last thing anyone wanted was to get hit, and since the village was so open with one another, it was common for anyone to come in at any time.

Once Tsubasa looked over his shoulder, however, the space behind him was empty. Had he imagined the touch? Blinking slowly, he nearly jumped out of his skin when Keiko spoke, whipping his neck so quick it was a shock it hadn't rolled off his head. Relieved that he wasn't just imagining things, he cautiously set side the hot metal far away, deciding now was a good time for a short break. He couldn't help but think that it was very nice of her to visit him, especially when she likely had better things to do.

Plucking his shirt from his skin, he took back his rag in his hand as he hastily wiped his face and neck. He was far from presentable, but he was sure she didn't mind. "Kei-chan, good morning," He greeted her, slightly out of breath. "I wasn't looking for anyone, but I'm glad you're here."

Taking a few seconds to regulate his breathing, as he smiled at the girl, something looked a little different. Her hair looked a little healthier, but that wasn't it. She looked more mature somehow, a little less like a girl and more...what was the word? Well, mature, but it was hard to say. She had always been on the thinner side, though he doubted Signkeeper Tomo would let her go hungry. It wasn't that she had gained weight in a bad way, though--aha! It was her chest! His stare lingered a little longer than he meant it to, eyes darting away as he became aware of his rudeness. Even if she did blossom into a woman, it was unbecoming of him to just ogle her like that.

"You look nice today," He decided to pay her a compliment as he fanned himself, leaning back against the bench. "It's nice to see you've grown up a little."

Keiko couldn't help but grin a little deviously as she watched Tsubasa jump at her little prank. It was a good reminder of why she bothered to come out this way as often as she did. He was as gullible as any of the yokels laboring out in the rice paddies, but a heck of a lot nicer when he found out he was being had. Despite her antics, she had been as well received as she ever was at the blacksmith's forge. There was the matter of that obnoxious nickname Tsubasa had always used for her as if she were some kind of child, but she had never managed to get him to stop for more than a day or two at a time. Another reason for her to continue picking on him whenever she had the opportunity.

"That makes one of us." She answered his pleasantries nonchalantly, dangling her feet off the side of his workshop as she did. For all his politeness, the blacksmith's apprentice seemed usually vigilant in his appraisal of her. She couldn't understand why, of course, and that only proved to vex her. She dressed more or less the same way every time they saw each other, and it wasn't like she prettied herself up before leaving home like a lot of the girls in town. Her natural curiosity caused her to trace the line of his eyes, just a few moments before he hastily looked away. Her eyebrows rose as she glanced down and found the source of his fascination.

It seemed as though there had been a misunderstanding. One which was wonderfully exploitable. Would that she could force a flush into her cheeks.

"I was wondering when you'd notice, honestly. It's kind of flattering that you did. Not many people pay that much attention to me..." Like flicking a switch, the smug little grin that constantly adorned her features had been replaced with something more... flirtatious.

She fluttered her eyelashes just a little like half the village girls did when they talked to Tsubasa. In truth, she didn't think he would so much as notice it. He always seemed a little oblivious to their gazes and flirtations, but that didn't matter. He would surely pay attention to the finger she trailed along the hem of her kimono, tugging enticingly on it as she continued.

"They just came in this spring. Bigger than I could have ever hoped, although I guess you've already noticed that," A giggle followed that one, airy and soft as she could make it, "Would you like to see them? I'd let you if you wanted. I'd even let you taste them before anyone else has the chance to."

She bit her lower lip at that point, excitement burning in her eyes as the incessant tugging she had been doing on her garment bore fruit. It began to pull away, the outer layer giving way to the cold air outside. She pulled and pulled until it all came spilling out for him, what Tsubasa's gaze had been on since he first laid eyes on her: a couple of oranges, which proceeded to roll down her chest and into her lap. Her expression returned to its vague disinterest just as they did, abandoning all pretense of seduction as slid her kimono back into its proper position. With her other hand, she seized one of the fruits and tossed it toward him.

"Itadakimasu."

Tsubasa's stare was just a touch blank as Keiko spoke. What did she mean people didn't pay attention to her? He swore he often heard her name uttered every once in a while. Not in a positive way, mind you, but--oh, was that what she meant? It was a shame, he always thought they were a little harsh on her, but her pranks never did go over too well. It couldn't be helped; the village preferred its peace and day-by-day happenings to go on unimpeded, and Keiko was less than inclined to follow the rules. He supposed he should try to assure her. To him, she always seemed a little lonely, and he was more than happy to enjoy her company. Even now as she watched him and tugged on her kimono--what was she doing?

There was no hiding the gaze that followed her finger, albeit he did remember his second blunder as he immediately jerked his head back up as she spoke. See them? See...them. Here? Now? No, she couldn't possibly mean that. As rambunctious as she was, she was still a lady. He was hot, tired, sweaty, and--and here, in view of anyone, it was shameless! Why in the world had he jumped to such conclusions? His interpretation was just clouded.

Tsubasa wasn't sure why his throat was suddenly so dry, nor did he know why his eyes immediately snapped to attention at the movement of the kimono. He should say something. He should stop this. He should do a lot more than watch as the material revealed more and more of pale, soft-looking flesh. He'd be lying if he said his conscience wasn't screaming at him to say something as it got lower and lower until something sprang forth and--a pair of oranges came out.

"Wha..." It was barely a whisper but the confusion was plain on his face, albeit he did manage to catch the orange thrown at him. The warmth certainly didn't help things and he nearly dropped the fruit as that thought crossed his mind, his face already flushed with color as he tried to compose himself. Keiko was teasing him! And she got him good this time, goodness, he hadn't been this embarrassed in some time.

Said embarrassment turned to humor as Tsubasa couldn't help but laugh at himself. "Ah...thank you," He got that much out as he bit at the skin, pulling it away until the sweet scent filled the air. A welcome distraction, especially as the sweet taste cleared his mind.

"They really came in well," He added. "If you have a surplus, you should take them to the market. You'll sell out for sure."

"You're welcome."

Keiko couldn't help but grin just a little devilishly as she watched Tsubasa try and shift the subject from her would-be seduction to the fruit before the two of them. It was almost kind of cute, how flustered a little bit of teasing had gotten him. She had expected him to be more resistant to such things—half the village's girls gave him doe eyes, after all—but it seemed she had been wrong in her assessment. She hefted up the other orange as he peeled away at his own, digging her fingers into the smooth flesh to peel away the rind until the soft flesh within was revealed.

"Bold of you to assume people would want to buy from me. I'm pretty sure half the village still thinks I'm some kind of yokai. Certainly wish I was, maybe I'd start getting offerings instead of rude gossip," She retorted, pulling a wedge from the fruit and popping it into her mouth, "Still, maybe I'll give it a try. It would piss old man Moriyama off something severe if people started buying their fruit from me instead of him."

The impish apprentice kicked her legs back and forth with just a little more force, chewing the juicy piece of citrus thoughtfully as her eyes danced from here to there, taking in the sights of the forge. It seemed Tsubasa had been rather busy despite the earliness of the morning. She was almost jealous of that, as absolutely bizarre as it sounded. He had plenty of matters to attend to, so he didn't have to deal with such consuming boredom all day as she did. Of course, he probably had an actual life to lead outside the forge, so maybe it was unfair to compare their situations, but acknowledging that didn't make her doldrums any easier to deal with.

"You get an awful lot of work during festival season, huh?" Keiko asked, making little more than idle conversation while she enjoyed her treat, "I would think people have better things to worry about than... fencing? During a time of celebration."

Tsubasa couldn't help but frown at Keiko's statement. She said it so nonchalantly, too. He supposed it was something she had gotten used to long ago; unfortunately, their village didn't look kindly to outsiders. He remembered being more curious than anything, never really understanding the hesitation coming from the adults. But it wasn't any of his business. Her statement on considering selling did bring a smile to his face as the thought danced around his mind. Moriyama was pretty competitive.

At the mention of the fence, he had fruit in his mouth as he looked at it. He chewed faster, licking his lips as he moved over to the already finished pieces. "Tetsu says there's always work to be done. Though this time, some animals have been getting into the crops and that can't really wait," He explained. "I guess the wooden fences kept getting knocked down, so reinforcing them should do the trick!"

He dropped his gaze to what he was working on when she came in, wondering if she wanted to know about that, too. "This one's a table, though," He said. "Takamori said he needed something sturdier than others, so there that is."

Taking the chance to gobble up the rest of the orange, he let out a sigh of happiness. "Delicious," He commented happily, pushing himself away from the bench. "How about you, Kei-chan? Are you looking forward to the festival?"

"Of course there's always work to be done. The only other smith in the village is a lush." Keiko responded in her usual matter-of-factly manner, regardless of how uncouth it was to insult a man while dallying on his property. It wasn't like the old man was around to defend himself if he could even manage it at such an early, hangover-laden hour. As she greedily deposited the last few wedges of her orange into her mouth, the girl dismounted from the workbench she had claimed as a seat, making her way over to the table Tsubasa had just finished before her unexpected arrival. She poked at it with a toe, as if to test the strength of the structure with such a minimal use of force.

"Wonder what the old man is doing that requires such a sturdy table. Or who, I guess. Never know with old lechers," She mused conspiratorially as she chewed, although she couldn't quite follow the train of thought too far. Instead, her musings were interrupted by Tsubasa inflicting a wound of his own upon her pride. An unknowing redress for her teasing, perhaps. She swallowed down the remnants of her carefully cultivated treat before peering up at the taller male.

"Nope. I never do. I never have anyone to go with, so I usually spend most of the festival back at the tower, waiting for it to end so everything goes back to normal," Despite the sorrowful tale she told, she remained indifferent as ever in tone and expression, "I'm not even sure what people get up to for most of it if I'm honest. I guess it must be pretty enjoyable... but I wouldn't know."

She made just a few steps forward, pushing herself up onto her very tiptoes to get more on level with Tsubasa. Only then did the slightest glimpse of mischief start to shine through her big brown eyes.

"Unless that was your way of asking whether or not I'd be interested in going to the festival with you. Is that why you ask? Did you want to take me? Huh? Did you? Did you really?"

Huh, now that Keiko mentioned it, Tsubasa supposed he never did see her around whenever the festivities popped up. He always assumed that she was busy or that there was work to be done; he remembered the many, many times that Tetsu would suddenly unload a bunch of last-minute orders on him, and sometimes that resulted in him missing out on a majority of the fun. She seemed entirely indifferent to it, the complete opposite of his own lament anytime he'd been so caught up in his work that it was too late to do anything meaningful.

At the very least she didn't linger on the subject for too long, though he wasn't expecting her next comment. The barrage of questions caught him a little off guard, eyes widening just a touch as she even went so far as to approach him. Wait, why didn't he consider asking her? Clearly that was the way to go! It was a good idea, he could wrap up what he was doing and they'd be on their way in no time!

But even as the thought crossed his mind, he scratched the back of his head with a small frown on his face. "Um, no, that wasn't why, but--well, actually, I would like to go with you. If you'll have me, of course," He dropped his hand as he spoke, deciding he would get that out of the way. "We can go see everyone's hard work, get something to eat, enjoy the shows that get put on, and of course the main attraction."

He paused for a moment. "...But I mean, even if I wasn't around, there's nothing wrong with going on your own, too. I've had to do it a few times myself. You're still a part of the village, and that means you get to have as much fun as everyone else, too, you know."