The sun hadn't fully risen yet, but the world felt drained of color. The moon had taken it all when it left.
Yuzume rubbed at her aching eyes as she crossed the courtyard, a fresh cup of tea cradled carefully in both hands. A single sugarplum rice ball rested beside it on the tray, slightly lopsided but still warm. She'd almost made it pretty.
The chaos of the full moon was finally over. The last spirit had passed through with a whisper of thanks and a flick of tail-light. And now… now she was tired.
Really, really tired.
She paused at the guest room door, then took a breath and slid it open gently with the edge of her foot.
Riku was sitting where she'd left him. Wrapped up in the old embroidered blanket, knees pulled loosely to his chest. He looked a bit more alert now, a little less I just tumbled through a divine veil, and a little more I slept for a few hours and didn't die.
He glanced up as the door creaked.
"I made you another cup," Yuzume said quietly, stepping in. "The last one got cold."
He took it from her hands with a small nod. "Thanks."
She settled opposite him again, smoothing out her sleeves with a slightly-too-fast motion. The silence stretched, not quite awkward, not quite peaceful.
He took a slow sip. Then paused.
"Huh."
Yuzume narrowed her eyes. "What now?"
"The tea. It's familiar." He held the cup up like it might confess its secrets. "Not just the taste, either. The smell. It reminds me of my childhood."
That made her pause. "Have you been to a shrine like this before?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe? My mom used to burn incense sometimes. Not for prayers or anything, just... when she missed someone. I never really asked."
Yuzume didn't know what to say to that. So she sat there quietly, watching the steam curl from his cup.
A bird cried softly in the trees outside. The sky was starting to glow.
"I remembered your name," Riku said suddenly.
She looked up.
He gave her a tired smile. "Yuzume. It suits you."
She turned pink instantly. "No it doesn't. It's... weird. Too soft. Too floaty."
"Still suits you," he said.
Yuzume wrinkled her nose. "You don't even know me."
"Maybe. But I remembered it."
She didn't know how to respond to that either. So she curled her tail around herself like a blanket and nibbled a corner of her rice ball in silence.
They didn't say much after that. Just sat there. Letting the silence settle, not uncomfortable anymore, more like the shrine itself was listening in.
Somewhere, beyond the veil, spirits stirred.
But for now, everything was still.