The splash echoed through the courtyard like a very wet bell.
Yuzume whirled around, just in time to see Riku flailing in the shallow river that cut through the shrine grounds, arms flapping wildly, hair dripping, and sandals floating away like tiny boats.
"What did you do?!" she shouted, running toward him.
"I… I tripped over a rock! Or maybe it was a turtle! Something moved, I swear!"
By the time she helped him out, he looked like a very sad, very damp scarecrow.
She sighed deeply, hands on hips. "This is sacred water, not a swimming pond."
"You think the spirits will notice?"
"They already did."
Riku glanced over his shoulder. A few spirit wisps were definitely circling nearby, flickering with what looked suspiciously like amusement.
"They're laughing at me, aren't they?"
"Yes," Yuzume said. "Yes, they are."
He sneezed.
She shook her head and took a breath. "Wait here. Don't drip on anything sacred."
Turning on her heel, she made her way through the shrine, steps slowing as she reached a particular door. The room hadn't been opened in months.
Her hand hovered over the frame.
It was still his.
She slid the door open gently.
The room smelled faintly of incense and old wood, and beneath it… something warmer. Something familiar. Her gaze drifted over the simple furnishings, the scrolls, the tea set that hadn't moved. And the clothes, still folded neatly in the chest by the wall.
She knelt quietly, fingers tracing the edge of a fabric bundle. Her chest ached.
He used to complain about the way she folded things.
"Too aggressive," he'd tease. "You're not warding off evil with my socks."
She held the cloth to her chest for a moment. It still smelled like him.
Still warm in memory.
But then she exhaled. Shook her head. Set it aside.
She wasn't ready to let it go yet.
Instead, she crossed the room to her own chest, pulled out a soft robe — one of her older ones. Pale with red stitching, it had once been too big for her, back when she still tripped over the sleeves.
Now it might just fit him.
Back outside, Riku had managed to find a towel and looked thoroughly miserable.
"Here," she said, thrusting the garment at him.
He blinked. "This is a… dress."
"It's a shrine robe."
"Looks like a dress."
"Do you want to wear moss instead?"
"…No."
She folded her arms, waiting.
He glanced down at the garment. Then up at her. Then back again.
"I… I think this is a little short?"
"Then keep your legs crossed. The spirits are shy."
Riku looked like he wanted to protest again, but a gust of wind hit him and he shivered violently.
He sighed in surrender.
"Fine. But if I trip again and drown in fabric, that's on you."
Yuzume smirked. "Then I'll dress your spirit in matching ribbons."
He changed behind the bamboo screen near the garden, emerging a few minutes later, red in the face and robe cinched awkwardly around his waist.
She blinked.
Then burst out laughing.
"You look like a nervous festival spirit."
"I feel like a nervous festival spirit."
She covered her mouth, tail flicking behind her with delight.
He tugged the sleeves. "This is surprisingly comfortable though."
She grinned. "Told you. Shrine fashion is superior."
"Still," he muttered, "I hope no one sees me like this."
Yuzume looked at the glowing wisps peeking from the bushes.
"...Too late."
His groan echoed through the garden.