Dog And Butterfly

The fall smelled beautiful here. Even with the shift in temperature clinging to the wind, it almost added a taste to it, like a subtle spice you couldn't put your finger on. It made it too nice a day to miss out on the scent, Ayaka breathing in deeply and sighing out as she put her helmet on the raised hand-grip of her motorbike. The morning was still early, and even if the devotion was lost to her, Ayaka couldn't deny that there was peace in this temple, and since her grandfather had set her up with the job here, she had something to look forward to. Most teenagers wouldn't care for a day gardening like this, and if asked by her friends, she would laugh and say she was only really doing it because her grandfather asked her to. But there was more to it than that left unsaid.

Purple-tinted eyes glanced around the grounds as she made her way up the steps, the breeze playing in her hair slightly. No wigs today, no frilly dresses, no bold makeup. Just Ayaka, as much as she could push to the front. Here, it didn't matter as much as it did in school or around town. Her friends rarely came up to the temple to bug her while she was working, and even when she had boyfriends she told them all explicitly not to be pests around here. This place mattered to Ayaka, even if she wouldn't really say how. It was more than it just being her job and what she did in her free time, and more than what she did because Grandpa set it up for her and expected her to go with it. This was one of the few places she could simply breathe.

Light danced between the leaves of the trees, catching the changing colours and casting funny, dancing shadows as a few feel freely and tossed in the breeze on their way to the ground. This was almost a world away from the world, the only place more peaceful and quiet being a cemetery. Ayaka reached a hand up as she got to the top of the stairs, pulling a small black rubber band out to tie her short hair back with. It was getting longish again, finally. Just long enough to tickle her shoulders and make them itch, making a short, curved stub of a ponytail when pulled back. A soft sigh moved past her lips, glad to see that there was nobody else out here for the moment- she liked it that way. As far as she could tell, Ayaka was alone as she headed to start tending the garden. She didn't see the eyes watching her from above, one gold and one blue. Watching, anticipating, and waiting to strike until the teenager was below, a puffy brown tail raising high, wiggling fiercely, and leaping down from the tree onto Ayaka's shoulder and effectively startling the girl completely.

Kai: 1, Ayaka: 0

The bobtail bounced off from her shoulder and down to her feet, purring loudly as he circled her ankles, trilling victoriously. Ayaka huffed, looking down at the white and tan cat that almost looked like he were grinning. "I swear Kai," Ayaka said, her voice soft despite being alone. "I should have named you ninja. How do you always manage to get here before me when I ride my bike here?" He rubbed around her ankle again, winning another sigh from the girl. Kai won completely, leaping back from the ground and onto her shoulder to ride into the garden. Hopefully today would stay quiet and she wouldn't need the headache medicine in her pocket. Hopefully today she could plant the new seeds she'd bought and get them started, and transfer a few new bulbs that would come up in the spring. And maybe, hopefully, she could sort her head a little. First thing was first though, and the bushes didn't prune themselves. She traded Kai for a large pair of clippers, letting her mind drift as she started trimming the bushes back into even snowball-shapes. The leaves and trimmings sprinkled down, Kai mindlessly attacking and batting at them. It had been a few weeks since she'd broken up with her last boyfriend, and she had hurt him a bit more in doing so than she'd meant to. Part of her wondered if she needed to start looking and try again, even though keeping up appearances was getting tiresome. They were all the same. Even the nicest ones still got frustrated when Ayaka wouldn't let them go farther than holding their hand, and as much as she just wanted to call up Umeko to spend time with her...

...that just made it hurt more.

Ayaka didn't notice she'd even started humming the song until words started moving past her lips, almost silent under the steady snipping, lost to the music box that was the garden. "And will we ever... end up... together? No, I think not. It's never to become." Kai meowed loudly, rolling onto his back to bat at the leaves. "...For I am not.. the one." Alone in the garden at the zen temple, reshaping the pieces of green that had grown astray, Ayaka sorted herself quietly, putting it aside that she'd just have to keep her distance from what part of her wanted so that nothing would be disturbed in the chaos that desire seemed to bring.

Enter the beast. In black and white, mostly grey. A taste for a little sweeping, he held the broom wistfully, eyes on the feathered tips of wings migrating in the sky. Brush the air. The broom slid from his grasp, hitting the wood floor boards on the veranda. He wasn't supposed to sweep here anyway. It wasn't his job. Littered with leaves, he purposefully trampled them in his tabi socks, hearing the crunch reverberating so loud in sensitive, canid ears. Ah, the yellow, the red, the splash of green, but especially the brown, sticking to the white fabric as if by glue. Fascinating. Pilling the tightly wound threads, the crackly death of summer clung to him as he twisted and turned around as if in dance. Miso soup again for breakfast, it had been a bit too salty. He left the broom there and hopped down into a pair of casual sandals. The sun had risen, beautiful, like it was raining leaves--the air filled with the fresh dust of stems and dried veins. He looked back mournfully at the discarded broom. Maybe he had been mistaken; he hadn't had a taste for sweeping today. His eyes--silver eyes, flickering like fox fire in moonlight, were alight with a strange rambunctious energy. Untamed, he was set loose without a tether, wandering about the premises of Tennenji. Horrible name. He always regretted it. Someone else should have renamed it. He sullied the foundations of a 241-year-old Rinzai Zen Temple! Though it was in ruin anyway. What it it was meant to fade away and he'd deterred the hands of fate by his coming? Perhaps everything that came to pass was meant to be. With a single breath of coldening air, he let it go.

Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, what was that coming? He turned his head around slowly, lazy eyes beholding the distance he could not perceive. He listened harder, picking up the sound of wheels slapping against pavement--the hum of that thing Ayaka Nanakorobi used as transportation. A slight fathom of a smile happenstanced upon his lips, and he stole away into the Temple's tiny, traditional kitchen packed full of various supplies. Like rice. Rice and tea. And a pot. Yes, a few big, round, black pots. Maybe a bit of leftover tofu bought this morning from the market in a bucket soaking. What else? It didn't really matter what he had so long as he could survive on it. It was all he needed. Black hair in a raven display on his head, he set about getting the teapot ready to boil, leaving it on the open flame, and tossing the lighter (because they were convenient) haphazardly back into the drawer whence it came. Slapping his hands together as if he had completed a great task, he exited the main temple and began his journey down the 330 steps and a half, treading lightly onto the circular stone on the bottom. So old it was, that he could feel it's energy shift under him, touching the soles of his feet like a massage. Head gear on handlebars, he witnessed Ayaka go straight to the garden, moving around the bonsai in circular motions almost as if she were gliding through water. Right to the chase, eh? He observed like a creeper from the bushes. Aa! So Kai had been here all along?

Kai: 1 Shigeru: 0

His expression continued to soften, as if looking on the scene was all the serenity he could ever gather in this life. He scuttled nearer, if only to see just what she was doing. Pruning? Oh, it made sense. The garden was absorbing much of the rainwater. A chime tinkled in the breeze from atop the ornate roof. His gaze flickered toward it only momentarily, unable to take in the clear glass painted in festival colors from Gion Matsuri that summer. He had brought it home as a decoration, unsure if he enjoyed the soft tones giving voice to wind or not. Hm, it seemed the clippers needed sharpening. He'd have to take care of that. Maybe while she was drinking her tea-- if she accepted it--he'd get the edge a bit more defined on those rusted, ancient clippers from the 18th century (not really). But did he have a sharpener around? The one for his sword may work, perhaps. Though there was a chance it could break. He tapped his chin in inquiry, pacing about the stone path leading up to the kitchen where he heard the teapots blood-curdling scream (at least to him). It was loud even all the way across the property. The garden flowed around the temple from all sides, but it seemed Ayaka was tackling the front first, leaving the back nearest the kitchen for last. So far away. He sighed, taking the cast iron pot off and setting it aside. From there, he walked all the way back towards the teenager (being one himself) with a fairly bright expression blissfully illuminated through his ethereal eyes. "Would you like some tea?" Oh crap he'd forgotten snacks again. High school girls liked snacks, it seemed. "It's a herbal mixture of peppermint and green tea." He'd looked into it. Actually, he had asked Renji, one of the skilled cooks in the castle what was best for headaches. This was his reply. The precise increments were fairly complex, but for her, he'd managed successfully.

"The veranda needs sweeping. Autumn has come quickly. I'll take care of that." He glanced back in the direction of the kitchen with a listless expression. He hoped the tea would be a perfect temperature by the time he made it back. It was often hard to predict with the careening temperatures during a transitional season. That was his enjoyment. His Shogun may agree as well, having similar old-fashioned tastes. He was under the impression that maybe he was just that way because he was raised on a mountain. Did it seem strange?