Page 49

The fixture was set directly into the wooden floor, like a porcelain funnel in the ground. She glanced at Aiko, then back at it, then cleared her throat. "I… How…?"

Aiko hesitated, colour rising faintly in her cheeks, then explained with careful gestures and an earnest seriousness that made Fae want to laugh and apologise at the same time.

Inside her head, Feraal was insufferable.

'Oh. This…' he said smugly. 'Yes, I know exactly how this works.'

Of course you do, Fae thought grimly.

'Bend the knees. Balance,' Feraal instructed. 'Do not hesitate. Hesitation leads to disaster that you will have to clean up.'

She emerged a while later, slightly traumatised, profoundly relieved that it was over, and deeply grateful that no one had witnessed the ordeal.

Aiko waited politely, pretending not to notice anything at all.

She handed Fae a neatly folded pale lavender yukata, soft and light, along with a pair of woven setta sandals.

"Rest of the dresses tomorrow?" she asked.

When Fae returned, bathed and dressed, Aiko had already laid out breakfast.

They sat on low cushions at a simple table. Steam rose gently from bowls of white rice and miso soup, the scent warm and comforting. A small dish held grilled mackerel, its skin crisped, the flesh flaking easily beneath chopsticks.

Fae ate slowly, practicing with the chopsticks the way Aiko had taught her. It was hit and miss.

The food gave her time to think about the meeting ahead, which would decide if she would be allowed to stay or would have to leave with her tail between her legs.

Across from her, Aiko watched with quiet satisfaction, as though this—this small act of nourishment—was part of her duty, too.

Aiko hovered by the doorway as Fae finished the last of the rice, hands twisting lightly in her sleeves.

Then she bowed again, quick, nervous.

"It is...time," Aiko said carefully. "To meet the Takumi."

Fae straightened at once. This was the moment.

"His name is Shibata Masanori." Aiko hesitated, then added, searching for the right words, "He does not speak much, but he is kind. Don't be afraid."

Fae rose, smoothing the pale lavender yukata, before going into the bedroom to get her bag of gifts.

Aiko slid the door open and gestured for her to follow.

Chapter 21

They stopped before a house farther down the street. It stood low and unassuming, its timber frame darkened by age and weather. The roof swept wide and heavy, sheltering deep eaves beneath which the wood had been worn smooth by decades of hands and seasons.

Inside, light entered gently, filtered through shōji screens and narrow openings, falling in pale bands across tatami mats and exposed beams.

"We wait here," Aiko said softly after she hesitantly knocked.

The building seemed older than the others they had passed—the timber was polished smooth by generations of passing hands. The door was closed with not even a whisper that her wolf hearing could detect.

Aiko lowered herself first.

Fae followed, kneeling on the wooden boards just outside the threshold. The position tugged uncomfortably at muscles that were still sore from the travel, but she tried to stay still, spine straight, hands resting neatly on her thighs.

Minutes that seemed like hours passed.