The shrine was quiet under starlight.
The wind had settled. The lanterns along the path swayed gently, their glow painting soft golden halos across the wood and stone. Somewhere in the distance, a bell chime echoed: faint and lonely.
Yuzume sat on the porch, legs tucked beneath her, one hand gently brushing her tail with slow, practiced strokes. She looked half-asleep, eyes heavy, ears drooping, the long day pressing into her shoulders like an extra weight.
The soft padding of footsteps broke her rhythm.
Riku appeared holding a cup of tea in both hands. He offered it forward like a peace treaty.
She blinked, then smiled sleepily.
"For me?"
"Well, I figured if I'm going to sweep your courtyard better than you, I might as well serve tea too."
She raised an eyebrow, but took it. "Let me guess. You made it from memory you don't have?"
"Is that not how you do things around here?"
She sipped. Her tail twitched.
"...Okay. It's not awful."
He sat beside her, stretching his legs out.
"Yours is better," he admitted. "But only because mine tastes like regret and oversteeped rosemary."
She chuckled softly. "Spirit tea shouldn't taste like regret. That's a very bad omen."
"I'll add it to the list."
They sat in quiet for a moment. She continued brushing her tail, the soft bristles whispering through the pale lavender fluff. It shimmered slightly under the moonlight, catching the glow like it had a will of its own.
He watched her for a moment. Not staring. Just… thoughtful.
"Can I ask something weird?" he said.
"You've already insulted my sweeping and my tea. I don't think it can get worse."
He hesitated, then gestured vaguely in her direction.
"Is that… a costume thing? The ears and tail?"
She stopped mid-brush.
"What?"
"You know, like… cosplay? Some shrine tradition thing?" he said carefully. "Because it looks super authentic. Honestly. Like, the movement is really fluid. And the shimmer effect? That's some next-level stuff."
She just stared at him.
"Seriously," he went on, trying to fill the silence. "I have a friend who goes to conventions. I'm totally cool with it. Just didn't know shrines did, like, fox spirit cosplay."
"...Cos-play," she repeated slowly, tilting her head like the word itself was broken. "Cos… plai?"
He nodded, too enthusiastically.
She set her brush down gently.
"Riku," she said very seriously. "These ears are mine. They've always been mine. So is my tail. I've never cos-plai'd anything in my life."
"Oh."
"I've never taken them off."
"Oh…"
She leaned in a little. "Do you think I glued them on?"
"I didn't want to assume!" he blurted. "I mean, it is a spirit shrine, and you do sparkle sometimes."
She blinked. Then snorted. "I sparkle?"
"A little."
She smirked. "I'll take it as a compliment."
"You should."
He glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still, I guess that was kind of a stupid question."
"No," she said softly, brushing her tail again. "Just a human one."
The wind stirred.
They both went quiet, watching the garden sway.
After a long moment, she said, "I've always had them. The tail and ears. My master said I was special. I didn't know I wasn't supposed to have them."
"I don't think it's a bad thing."
"...No?"
He smiled faintly. "They suit you."
She blushed. Pretended to be very invested in brushing the same section of her tail twice.
"Still," she mumbled, "you could've led with the compliment instead of the cosplay bit."
"Duly noted."