The morning sun was too bright. The tea leaves were bitter. The broom kept slipping out of her hands like it was mocking her.
Yuzume shuffled around the courtyard, grumbling softly as she swept flower petals off the old stones for the third time that morning. Her hair was tied messily to one side, a lazy bun that had already started falling apart. She hadn't slept properly. Her tail was dragging.
And worst of all, she could feel someone watching her.
"Do you always sweep in little circles like that?" Riku asked from the steps behind her.
She froze.
Turned slowly.
"Excuse me?" she said, ears twitching.
Riku was sitting comfortably, holding a steaming cup of tea like he belonged there. He looked way too awake for someone who had been half-dead under the spirit veil the night before.
"I mean, it's fine," he added, sipping. "Just… kinda inefficient, isn't it? You're sort of moving the petals around more than collecting them."
Her eye twitched.
"Oh," she said, voice sweet. "I'm sorry. Are you the shrine master now?"
He blinked. "No. Just..."
"Well, clearly you must know everything," she continued, setting the broom aside with flair. "Please. By all means. Enlighten me with your superior sweeping technique."
He stared at her, a little wary.
Then stood up.
"Okay."
She blinked.
"Wait."
Too late. He took the broom from her and, without a word, began sweeping in long, smooth, perfectly aligned strokes. The petals gathered effortlessly, falling into neat little piles like they wanted to be organized.
Yuzume's jaw dropped.
"How did you do that?" she whispered.
He glanced over. "I… don't know."
"You're lying."
"I swear I'm not. I just did what felt right?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, tail flicking behind her like an angry cat. "You're a guest. Guests don't outshine the shrine maiden."
He laughed. "I wasn't trying to. You dared me."
"I offered you a chance to fail with dignity."
"Well," he said, finishing the last stroke and tapping the broom on the stone, "sorry for succeeding instead."
Yuzume huffed and snatched the broom back, face burning. "That was a fluke."
"Probably," he said, smiling like it wasn't.
She turned away, muttering about incense prep and mysterious broom possession. But her ears were glowing pink.
He watched her go, rubbing the back of his neck, brow furrowed.
He really didn't know how he knew. It had just happened.
Something about it felt right.
Like a memory that never belonged to him in the first place.