Ginrou flinched when the reckless man pointed a finger at him. In the past, he had been a target of both Matsuri's and Ryo's "warm ups". Their combined barrage had made him resilient in some ways, but in most other ways it had just made Gin a bit sheepish. Part of him was happy not to be on the...
Actually, what had he been thinking? A blush creeped up Ginrou's neck as the consequences of his actions played out. Hanae had to pass very close in front of him to get into the chair. And then she smiled so sweetly as she looked away. Of course, Ginrou was a gentleman, so he wouldn't peer down...
Ginrou watched with shaded eyes as the man excused himself. It wasn't improper, in fact just the opposite. But he couldn't shake that suspicion that his sister had infected him with.
No, it was probably nothing. His attention turned back to the flower seller, who was wandering around the room...
The flower seller seemed startled by something. She rambled on about leaving the bouquets quickly and not being a burden. Ginrou listened politely as he took them down the garden path, even though he was confused by her comment.
"Hm, did the gatekeeper tell you that?" That was odd. It was...
Ginrou had been left more or less to his own devices for the rest of the afternoon. Despite the general bustle of the household, no one seemed to need him. So he had washed off the grime of the morning, and eaten, and was now sitting in the shade of his room, the door open. A book was spread out...
Yon took a step towards him, and he didn't lean into it this time. Hands clutching at the wood, knuckles pale, Gin stood trapped against the edge of the counter. Yon had given him an answer he'd expected, so why was his heart beating so fast?
"I understand." Ginrou swallowed. He watched the...
She was so fast, inhumanly so. One moment he was holding the dumpling half, and the next there was naught but grease and dough flakes left on his fingers. It shouldn't of surprised him anymore, but it always did.
Gin nursed his own half, chewing through it slowly. The rich, fried food was good...
Gin found his head bowing toward the crown of hers, as she pulled him closer once more. With one soothing breath, she drew the heat from his skin and replaced it with a cold that healed. There wasn't a single line of worry on her face as she worked. She smiled at him. Didn't let go right away...
Ginrou nearly crawled out of his own skin when he felt a hand on his arm and heard that soft, sweet voice. Every muscle in his body froze, as his spine straightened and his eyes focused straight ahead. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her hand held out to him, delicate fingers tipped with...
The Morikami's home was neither sprawling nor compact. It seemed to find a happy medium, nestled between the towering buildings around it. A tall stone wall surrounded the grounds and separated it from the street traffic. It stood open most of the time, with but a single gatekeeper posted up...
"Hanae and Hiei," Gin repeated the names warmly. "I hope we can continue working together." It was the polite thing to say after striking a beneficial deal, but he seemed to mean it.
The dark haired man was quick to hurry them away after that, and Matsuri was quick to oblige. "Alright okay...
All Ginrou could do was watch as the two flower sellers bowed low to his sister - and to him, he supposed. When he'd first stopped by the little flower stall, the woman had been so kind and generous. She was still kind, but now there was something else creased in the corner of her eyes. An...
The man had a name, Hiei, and he was introduced as the flower seller's business partner. But if that were the case, they had an odd relationship indeed. Ginrou nodded along politely to the man's breakdown of the price, but his sister was less keen about the whole thing. She wouldn't stop glaring...
Fifty silver coins!
Brown eyes widened in surprise at the paltry sum. Luckily, Ginrou didn't have to respond right away, as the petite woman turned her back on them to grab some paper. A little crease furrowed his brow as he tried to parse what the woman might be thinking, with a price like...
The woman confessed to coming from a long line of flower growers, with a pride that that lit her face up. And yet here she was alone, with a modest stall that could stand to see a few repairs. More mismatched mysteries piling up on top of each other. Ones that his sister clearly didn't notice...
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