She might have snorted softly (not terribly ladylike of her), and might have rolled her eyes at him, but in the end her good humor won the day. With a small shrug, she procured some shrimp and a daifuku, handing him the former with a nod of thanks for footing the bill. Admittedly, she hadnāt fought the suggestion overmuch; she wasnāt exactly as well-off as sheād been in her childhood, and medical school did tend to drain oneās resources, scholarship or not.
They ambled for a while after that, mostly in silence, which was kind of nice. It was hard to recall the last time sheād been to this particular festival. She had hazy memories of these colors and smells, and of course this general area had been her home for most of her life, butā¦ hers had not been a duration particularly disposed to stopping and smelling the roses- or the assorted grilled goods, for that matter. There was, though, a vague inclination that if she looked skyward, she would see something that made her feel at ease: a great blue shape high above, watching over them all. Perhaps it was simply a childhood fantasy, that there was some powerful being out there who would deign to look benevolently upon the figures on the ground, and yetā¦
She felt the rain before it began to fall. Such was one of her many useless talents, a vaguely prescient feeling about the weather, at least if precipitation was at all involved. This was a good thing, without a doubt- she had never been averse to the rain. At first it was tiny droplets, the kind that would fall and only dampen with great time, but gradually they coalesced into something more substantial, and she relished in the rush of relief that such things always brought with them, tilting her head skyward and welcoming the feel of moisture. Gravity was not quite enough to pull them from her, and they fell slowly only when she relinquished them, to patter on the earth quietly. Another silly, symptomatic something, but scarcely noticeable or important.
They were cut off by something, and Shirayuki opened her eyes to see her companionās arm hovering over her head, a makeshift shield against that which would do her no harm. Sweet, but wholly unnecessary. Nevertheless, she allowed herself to be guided beneath a canopy, where only the occasional drop found its way to the ground. He said something she did not understand, followed by a question that made only a bit more sense. Shirayuki did not know who ātheyā were, but it did not seem of too much importance from the way he said it.
She might have even asked, for no other reason than to be polite, but the parade began in earnest now, and she watched with something between reverence and amusement at the procession meandered, marched, and shuffled by. Like his, her eyes found the dancers almost immediately. Her reason was of course entirely different, and a trace of longing flitted its way across her face before she settled into looking a little bit wistful. She was never hard to read, and did not play at stoicism, having learned long ago that it was a game she would never win. Still, at the same time as it saddened her to remember what she had lost, she still appreciated the grace and poise of the art, and so it made her happy, too.
The shapeshifters were always entertaining. It was not so unusual for most youkai to be able to do such things, but she, having only half that strength, was not. Any alterations that she underwent were entirely involuntary, and usually associated with situations most unpleasant.
Diverting her thoughts from that unfortunate tangent, she tried to think of how best to answer his question. It was still too loud, though, what with the music and the crowd, and she rubbed her throat ineffectually. She had thought of pointing to the sky, but since he already wondered if it had something to do with the weather, that probably wouldnāt work. Pursing her lips, she looked around, at last raising her hand to point at the painted likeness of a dragon, borne by several marchers and some distance in front of the mikoshi. Technically, she was unsure that this was even the right answer, but it had always seemed so to her. She supposed he would understand how literal she was being, since he had seemed not at all surprised to see children turning into foxes or women into toads.
Looking at him, though, she noted his fascination with the mikoshi itself and wondered. There was something going on here that she did not understand, and she watched it trail past them. Shirayuki wasnāt sure if the reason for such intentness was wistfulness, confusion, or something else, but it seemed to be important. She only became further convinced of this when his arm twined around hers- that was, in her experience at least, a comfort-seeking gesture. Perhaps it was misplaced for her to project the attitudes of family members and children onto someone else, but nevertheless it was what she was inclined to do, and so she did it, lacing her fingers through his and nudging her shoulder into his arm with characteristic affectionate indulgence.
She tilted her head in the direction the mikoshi had gone, towards the Shirogane Shrine. If it was important to him, they would just have to go see.
Festival Grounds, and the whole thing is so damn confusing.
"You'll have to stick to bars so I don't have to rescue you from the opium den again, if it affects your memory so."
For a second, he was pretty sure sheād just made that shit up, but then it all clicked into place, and he narrowed his eyes. āBastard had it coming,ā he replied a little too quickly, flinching internally when he felt the heat on his face and very well-aware that he was turning that slightly-red color he took on rather frequently. The tengu huffed impatiently and decided now was not a good time to stick around and have the conversation. In fact, he was pretty sure never would be the best time for it.
He only sort of remembered exactly what had happened in the opium den. Some guy he was working for at the time had mentioned it in passing as a rather good place to find the shady kind of folks who would hire a guy like him to muscle around like an idiot, and since that was basically the only thing anyone would hire him for, heād decided to pay a visit. Well. When in Romeā¦ Opium hadnāt been anything like tobacco, really, and he had this feeling that heād overdone it. He vaguely recalled some fool picking a fight with him, which his drug-laced self was only too happy to oblige, and thenā¦ not much else until he was dragged out by a person much smaller than himself. Since it was a lady (albeit a slightly off-looking one), he hadnāt really the heart to protest.
Heād woken alone, sober, and at his own address, apparently having let himself in, though how he found the place was still a mystery. Now it made considerably more sense. His old instinct for politeness warred relentlessly with the constructed one heād made for being an asshat, and in the end neither of them really won. āRight.ā One syllable, neither a thanks nor a disparaging remark. He didnāt even really manage to make it sound dismissive, though he tried valiantly.
The rain started to patter down, and Tsubasa frowned with mild distaste. Heād always hated having wet feathers. Not that he had feathers right now, mind, but it would probably still make his damn head into a sopping mess of uncomfortable damp. He was about to excuse himself to find yet more food and a better spot from which to watch the proceedings when the lady bowed to some old guy and asked if the parade had started.
Correction: this was not just some old guy. Tsubasa shifted his weight from one foot to the other, an unconscious action that prepared him better for any number of defensive maneuvers. It wasnāt that he thought he was about to be attacked, merely that it had struck him subconsciously to be wary. It was much the same feeling heād had around the abbot, but that had been tempered by years of near-familial connection, and this was not. They walked with the same deliberate, regal stride, and there was some similar kind of too-much-knowledge in their faces. It made him distinctly uncomfortable, though he refused to allow himself to show it.
It also forced him to reevaluate the woman next to him. He glanced between the two, feeling quite like he was intruding upon something and should leave, but he sharply negated this internally. Heād been here first, dammit, and he wasnāt going to leave just because some guy in a suit showed up. If they wanted to have their little conversation here, that was fine with him, but he wasnāt going to pretend he wasnāt listening or anything like that.