When she awakened, birds chirp in the distance, the faint smell of pine re-emerged and sunlight peeks through the tiny gaps between thin straws. A new day was born, and it is accompanied by the blue sky painted with white clouds.
Nara leaves her bedroom in hopes to be greeted by a samurai in maple leaves, only to be welcomed by an empty room. A note is distinctly left in the middle of the room, along with a red maple leaf.
Nara bends down to pick it up which reads:
I apologize for leaving without a proper farewell, but I hope this will not be our last encounter. I believe the winds and fate will bring us together again in the future for I will be leaving Inazuma by noon. I would like to thank you again for your welcoming hospitality, for which you made me feel at home for the first time in eternity.
She reads the last line again, making sure she was reading it properly until she feels a rush of warmth flowing through her cheeks. She cools herself by fanning the note on her face, knowing it was futile.
It's not a big deal. Nara breathily laughs to no one. The note left by the friendly stranger was nothing more than a passerby in her life. It is nothing but a momentary bliss she desperately clings onto helplessly once in a while. Although she does not break her façade of a strong, young lady, there are quiet moments away from the outside world where she hoped for something non-existent.
Her lips trembles for a fleeting second, swallowing the tightness in her throat. No. She will not cry. She will not be dejected that she was alone again.
Perhaps it is because she hasn't had a real company in eternity. The feeling of having someone by her side no matter where she goes. The time has long passed for Nara to fly out of her nest, letting the wind guide her. Shackles made out of bones may restrain her, yet it is not enough for a strong-willed woman like her.
Nara has to remind herself that the world does not revolve around her. She cannot wallow in self-pity anymore.
A single maple leaf lays in her hand as she is left to wonder what to do with it. A flower crown? A charm? A bookmark? Nara sighs, leaving it on a small table along with the note, then perhaps she will do something about his unspoken gift.
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The stream behind Tejima's house is smooth and lukewarm, suitable for laundry chores as Nara wearily brushes the dirt out of her drenched clothes, a filthy mix of soap, soil and weeds poking out by the side of the canal. Thankfully the freshwater is fast enough to merge with the pool of water down the pavement and down the reservoir where it meets the city.
Life in Konda Village has always been slow since the ageing population fills most of the houses. Most of the young adults are out in the city protecting the nation as soldiers, many of which come home every few weeks. Nara is one of the few who often takes care of the errands for the Saimon family. Jirou could have been the helping hand his parents needed, but Katsumi persists that his son was as useless as some...delinquent oni in Hanamizaka. Whoever that is.
