Junkojuro leisurely strolled through one of the gardens with a watering can in hand, quenching the thirst of any parched roots or dried soil that he came across. He gave friendly nods to the few servants running their morning errands that he came across, but all they saw was a young groundskeeper in his early twenties tending to the foliage. Playing the part of every age had it's nuances, but he found that being a young man was the most enjoyable. He appeared just old enough so that people took his words seriously, and yet not so old that he would be criticized too harshly if he was found "wasting time." Plus, it was always amusing being called "lad" by the venerable folks who had barely lived one tenth as long as he had. 

Junkojuro remembered planting the first seed in this garden. That seed was now a great Sakura tree that would fill the air with delicate pink petals once it bloomed. He had seen children dance in the pink flurry, then grow into lovers that sought privacy behind the trees trunk, then live out the rest of their days reading poetry in the cool shadows cast by the branches. That tree had been a part of many lives, and yet it was just a small part of Junkojuro's own life. He wondered how long the tree would remain standing over the first hole ever dug in this garden. Certainly not forever. All things wither and die; even the tallest mountains would one day lie on the ground as a pile of dust. Would he get to see that?

"A bit chilly for a morning stroll, isn't it Kojuro-San?" One of the servants interrupted his musings, but Junkojuro simply gave the man a friendly wave and continued tending to the plants. He was quiet in the mornings; gardening was a kind of meditation for him. After all, what better way to ponder the nature of life than by nurturing it? The servant had not abbreviated his name, it was simply a part of the role he played here in Genrouuchi. Mortals had two names, but Junkojuro had only one, so to better fit in he simply broke it in half for them. If he was to be playing the part of an old family of groundskeepers, it may as well be the Kojuro family, and if anybody needed to know, his name may as well be Jun. It was best to keep these things simple. 

And so his "family" had tended these gardens most every morning for the past couple centuries, but for the past -- was it twelve years? It was so easy to lose count -- he had been in an awkward position. There was always at least one Mitsumine that knew that a fox prowled the grounds, but with the untimely passing of the previous lord, nobody was left to inherit that knowledge. The heir, Ryuunosuke, was but a child, and Takeshi was more concerned with raising a ruler than being a ruler himself. The man was good company, and a great Shogi player, but revealing his secret to him would be frivolous. Now, though, Ryuunosuke was being called a man -- funny how mortals were obsessed with arbitrarily assigning numbers to gradual things like growth -- so he would soon have to decide. Should he reveal himself once again to the Mitsumine family? Well, perhaps that depended on what kind of man this new heir was.