Riku had started waking earlier than usual.
He would rise with the morning breeze, stretch lazily on the porch, and glance toward Yuzume's door. Some mornings it creaked open just as the sun peeked over the hills, and there she'd be, rubbing her eyes with the back of her sleeve, tail tangled and ears flopped to one side.
"Morning, sleepy," he'd say.
"I wasn't sleeping," she'd grumble, yawning anyway.
He'd started doing more around the shrine. Watering the plants. Sweeping the paths. Preparing tea the way she liked, strong, with a hint of sakura petals if he could find any.
She never complained.
"Well, look at you," she said once, leaning against the frame of the kitchen, watching him fumble with the old clay cups. "Think you're shrine keeper material now?"
"I've had a great teacher."
She snorted. "You're lucky I don't grade your progress. You'd be barely passing."
But her smile lingered longer than usual. She liked having him around, more than she ever said out loud.
They spent their days quietly, sharing chores and laughter, filling the empty spaces with little comforts. He was getting better at everything, she'd admit to herself. And for the first time, she wasn't constantly correcting him.
Though, she still liked pretending to.
"No, not that broom. The one with the charm on the handle."
"What difference does it make?"
She crossed her arms. "That one's for shooing away spirits. This one's for shooing away dust. They're very different."
"Are they really?"
"Yes," she said, but her smirk betrayed her.
Later that evening, she sat on the shrine steps, a cup of tea cradled between her palms. Her legs dangled off the edge like a child's, swinging gently.
Riku joined her without a word.
They watched the wind move through the lavender fields. A spirit or two drifted by, slow and calm. Nothing strange, nothing troubling. Just a warm night, laced with scent and memory.
"You've been quiet lately," Riku said after a long while.
She shrugged. "I like quiet."
"You used to hum when you worked."
"I still do."
"Not as much."
She didn't answer. Just took another sip of tea and stared into the distance.
"I guess I've just been thinking," she said finally.
"About what?"
A long pause.
"Nothing serious," she lied with a smile. "Just… wondering if the spirits miss the moon when they pass through. Silly things like that."
"Doesn't sound silly."
"Hmm. Maybe."
She rested her head on his shoulder. It felt natural. Easy.
He didn't move.
And she didn't say what else was on her mind. Like how the wind felt heavier lately. How sometimes, walking to the garden left her breathless. How she hadn't ventured past the peach tree in days and wasn't sure why.
She didn't understand it herself. And if she didn't understand it, she didn't want to speak it into existence.
Not yet.
So she stayed there, close to him, pretending everything was fine.
And the shrine, wrapped in the hush of fireflies and soft night wind, held its breath with them.