Yuzume didn't know when their conversations started getting longer.
Maybe it was during tea. Or after dinner. Or that afternoon when he helped her untangle wind chimes in the garden and she accidentally called him moss-head.
Whatever the case, there were more pauses now. Not awkward ones, the kind that hummed with things they weren't quite saying yet.
The lavender field had been unusually quiet today. No spirits passed. No bells rang. Just a slow afternoon and the scent of warmed petals, heavy and still in the air.
She found him sitting by the river, legs stretched out, arms behind his head, eyes half-closed like he was about to nap.
"You're going to burn your face off," she said, poking his forehead.
He cracked one eye open and smiled lazily. "Nice to see you too."
She plopped down beside him with a faint huff, hugging her knees to her chest. "You haven't messed anything up today. That's suspicious."
He shrugged. "I had a good teacher."
She gave him a look. "Who, me?"
"No, the raccoon spirit that keeps trying to steal rice."
She laughed, cheeks flushing. "That one is smarter than you, to be fair."
They sat in silence for a while. The kind where you don't need words. Just breeze, river, distant birdsong.
Then she said, "Do you remember the first time we talked?"
"Yeah."
"You thought I was a cosplayer."
He winced. "In my defense, I had just passed out and woke up to a glowing fox girl."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile softened. "I thought you were a lost spirit."
"You looked scared."
"I was."
He turned to look at her. Really look at her. And something in her chest skipped.
"I'm not scared now," she added, almost too quietly.
"Of me?"
"Of what this is."
The air shifted.
He sat up slowly, brushing his hair back, suddenly nervous for no reason he could explain. "I don't know what it is either," he said. "But I like it."
She bit her lip. Her tail had curled protectively around her side, like it was trying to hide her.
"I don't really know how this works," she whispered. "With... feelings."
"Me neither."
His hand brushed against hers. Just barely. It lingered.
She looked at their fingers.
"Your hand is warm," she said.
He tilted his head. "Is that good?"
She nodded.
Another beat.
Then she turned toward him. Slowly. Unsurely. And he leaned forward just enough to meet her halfway.
Their lips brushed.
Soft. Shy. Gentle.
It was barely even a kiss. But it lingered like the last line of a prayer.
When they pulled back, Yuzume's ears twitched wildly and her tail curled so tight it nearly knocked over a lantern behind her.
She cleared her throat. "That was... acceptable."
He grinned. "Just acceptable?"
"I might need to try again to confirm."
They laughed.
And for once, neither of them had anything more to say.
The lavender swayed.
The shrine exhaled.
And the space between them was no longer empty.