"It doesn't even suit me," she muttered, crouched beside the marker.
The stone was simple. Just his name, Seiji Tsukihara, carved in careful brushstrokes. No titles. No poetry. No long dates or flowery scripture. Just what mattered.
She pressed her palm flat against the soil. It was still warm from the sun.
"I mean really, Yuzume?" she huffed, half-smiling through the sniffle that came right after. "It sounds like a sleepy dumpling. Or some kind of river fruit."
She waited, like maybe he'd chuckle from just beneath the roots and say something smug in return.
The night didn't answer.
A spirit light drifted by. It lingered near the peach blossom tree for a moment before fading into the dark.
She wiped at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, catching it right before it spilled.
"You really left me with everything, huh? The charms, the incense, the tea that I still can't get right. I had to bless three mourning spirits last night, and I think one of them left insulted. She said the water was too cold. I told her ghosts don't get cold."
She laughed. It cracked halfway through.
Her voice dropped.
"I didn't know where to put your staff."
The breeze stirred gently around her, like a hand through her hair.
"I wanted to leave it in the shrine. But then I thought... maybe you'd rather be holding it. Wherever you are."
She looked down at the little pouch on her hip. His last charm was tied there. Sloppy, frayed at the edge. He hadn't had the strength to knot it properly, so she finished it for him.
"Do you remember the first time you let me light a lantern?" she said. "I nearly set the ribbon on fire. You didn't even yell. You just... made that face."
She scrunched her nose, mimicking it. He would have rolled his eyes.
The tears came this time. Not loud. Not rushing. Just enough that she had to pause and press the heel of her hand against one.
"I wasn't ready," she whispered. "I'm still not."
Her tail curled around her ankles. She didn't notice.
"I know I'm supposed to be strong now. That's how these stories go, right? The girl becomes the guardian, finds her path, lights the way. But I just... I miss your tea. And your dumb riddles. And the way you called me trouble even when I did something right."
A wind chime sang somewhere above them.
She closed her eyes and breathed in.
"Okay," she said finally, voice steadier. "Okay. I'll get up now. I'll do the rounds. I'll feed the koi. I'll pretend I remember all the verses. I'll make you proud."
She rose to her feet slowly.
One more glance at the grave.
One more half-smile, tired but real.
"Still a silly name."