Yuzume was up before the morning bells.
Not that there were any bells today. Just the hush of the river and the long breath of lavender curling through the open corridors of the shrine.
She had already swept the main path.
Twice.
Well… five times.
Her tail flicked irritably behind her as she eyed a speck of dust that probably wasn't even real. She poked it anyway.
"Are you fighting the ground?" came a sleepy voice.
She froze.
Riku stood at the edge of the hallway, hair tousled, sleeves slipping off one shoulder. He looked like he hadn't even tried to get dressed properly, which, in her opinion, was mildly criminal.
"I'm sweeping," she said stiffly.
"Sure you are." He stretched. "Looks like that spot's winning."
She turned her back to him and kept sweeping. Her tail twitched. Her ears twitched. She hated that they twitched.
Riku wandered closer. "So…"
"So," she echoed.
They stood there.
The wind rustled.
Somewhere in the garden, a bird sneezed.
Yuzume finally cleared her throat. "Did you sleep alright?"
"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Weird dreams. I think your spirit friends whisper in their sleep."
"They do," she said. "Usually about rice."
He laughed.
It helped. A little.
They moved on with the day, sort of. Made tea. Set offerings. Replaced charms. At some point, they sat cross-legged beneath the veranda, threading new prayer strings.
Her fingers fumbled a knot.
He glanced at her. "So… was that okay?"
She blinked. "Was what okay?"
"You know. Last night."
She stared at him, ears rising slightly.
"The kiss," he said, quieter now.
She looked away, cheeks warming. "I wasn't grading it."
"Oh. Good. Because I would've failed."
Her laugh bubbled out before she could stop it. "It was… fine."
He smiled. "Fine?"
"Maybe even nice."
"Wow, calm down."
She shoved his arm, and he leaned just enough to make it seem dramatic, flopping sideways into a pile of ribbon.
They sat like that for a while, her quietly fixing a crooked knot, him watching the way her tail curled and uncurled with her focus.
Then she said, softer, "You don't have a spirit mark."
He blinked. "A what?"
"Most people who wander into the veil… they've been touched by it. A mark. A shimmer. Something. You don't have one."
He frowned, glancing at his wrist as if expecting something to glow.
"Is that bad?"
"No," she said quickly. "Just… odd. Like you're not really meant to be here. But you're here anyway."
He was quiet a moment. Then he said, "Maybe that's true for both of us."
She paused.
Her hands stilled.
"Yeah," she murmured. "Maybe it is."
They didn't speak again for a while. Just sat with the ribbons in their laps and the warm sun crawling slowly across the porch.
When they finally got up, she pretended not to notice that they walked closer now. Not touching, not saying why. Just… closer.
And maybe, for now, that was enough.