The fire pit served as the only light in the camp. As Muneshige looked toward the hazy sky, the moon was nowhere to be found. The scouting party should return soon, but for the moment the only ones in the camp were him and his wife. He cast a glance to his side, and she was flipping casually through a book. He wasn't sure what it was, but she didn't seem very invested in it. He took a closer look to see she was just looking at the pictures. "Ginchiyo...?" he ventured.

She didn't look up. "What is it?"

"You won't get much out of the story if you're just looking at the pictures."

"The story doesn't interest me. It's poorly written," she replied quickly. "I read part of it and was bored to tears."

"What was it about, then?" Muneshige smirked, leaning on his hand. He had always loved hearing her talk about the stories she'd read. Even if she claimed they were boring and uninteresting, she always had some way of bringing life to them. He felt as though he could watch her tell stories for hours. She shut the book with an exasperated sigh.

"You don't want to hear it, it's stupid." She ran her hand through Luxray's fur, sound asleep beside her, and her eyes didn't look up to meet Muneshige's. He grinned and laughed slightly.

"Try me."

With another heavy sigh, Ginchiyo handed the book over to Muneshige. He took a glance at the cover. On it was a picture of a Shuckle and a Lopunny that looked like they were having a race. The scenario seemed familiar to Muneshige. The fire dimly illuminated the name of the author. Aesop.

"Oh, I know this person. He wrote the one about the Glameow and the Meowth. The one where the Mightyenas were chasing them-"

"And the Meowth was eaten because he took too long thinking of a plan," Ginchiyo interrupted him, her hand not leaving Luxray's mane. It rolled over and nuzzled its head on her lap, and she gave a hint of a smile.

"You seem to know a lot of these stories," Muneshige smiled, scooting in closer to her.

"Daddy-" she paused a moment. "My father would tell me these stories all the time. I don't know if it's because he wanted to teach me lessons or because he thought they were something I'd enjoy, but I know almost all of them."

Muneshige leaned in closer and brushed her arm with his hand. "Tell me one, then."

Ginchiyo looked down at the ground in thought. "Perhaps... one. Just one," she cleared her throat before beginning. "Once upon a time there was a Durant. And the Durant worked very very hard all through the year. One day a lazy Kricketune approached the Durant and said, 'My friend, you work much too hard to find food for the winter. The summer is still young, you must enjoy it!'"

"Sound advice," Muneshige replied with a goofy grin, only to receive a light chop on the top of his head from Ginchiyo. He frowned.

"Don't interrupt. It's rude," she growled. Removing her hand, she continued. "Anyway, the Durant said, 'as you wish,' and continued to collect food, knowing that the winter will come and there will be no food for the Kricketune. Sure enough, the week before winter, the Durant was nestled snugly in his house while the Kricketune was out searching for food. He couldn't find any because it was already all gone, and sure enough, the Kricketune starved to death that winter." She shut her eyes and raised a matter-of-fact finger and recited without any hesitation the moral of the story as if it were a motto to live by. "Do not put off until tomorrow what you can do today, for today is naught but yesterday's tomorrow." She finally opened her eyes and met his. They locked eyes for a moment before she blushed and looked away. "See? It's stupid."

Muneshige smiled again and put his hand on her head, ruffling her hair. "I didn't think so. Do you know any others?"

Ginchiyo rolled her eyes. "I know all the others. I've been told those stories since I was a girl. There's another one about a Luxray and a Natu. One day the Luxray was sleeping, and the Natu strolled in and thought it would be funny to play a joke to see if the Luxray would wake up. So the Natu..." Muneshige's attention span slowly waned as she told her tale, and his concentration drifted instead to the way she held herself when she told a story. His focus rested on her entirely, so much so that he forgot she was even speaking. The way her lips moved mesmerized him for a moment; he had never really noticed how naturally full and soft-looking they were until he stared right at them. Ginchiyo's voice when she spoke to him sounded so gentle, and he felt her harsh tone melt away as their conversations continued on-those were among his fondest memories, staying up all night just talking about trivial nonsense with her. While her voice usually held a harsh sting, it seemed after they had been alone for a while she began to speak to him softly, without any of the usual fiery bite in her words. She really did have a beautiful voice at the right moment.

The dim light of the fire cast an orange glow on the skin of her face and illuminated the shine in her eyes. Those big, beautiful, intense brown eyes. He found himself lost in their brightness, even in the darkness of the camp, and he absentmindedly inched closer to her, as if he were being pulled in in by her gravity. Suddenly the melody stopped, and Muneshige blinked.

Ginchiyo frowned after a moment of silence and repeated herself. "I said the moral is that even the weak and small may be of help to those much mightier than themselves."

There was a pause. She seemed as though she was looking for a response. Muneshige took a breath. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Another beat, and even in the dark, Muneshige could see her face grow red in embarrassment. She opened her mouth, then closed it, only making small stuttering noises as she tried to figure out what to say in response. "I-I... y-you're... you're an idiot...! You wanted to hear a story and you didn't even listen to it!"

Muneshige raised his brows. "Sure I did. The Luxray wanted grapes, so he tried to get them off the tree, and the Natu laughed at him so he gave up."

Her eyes narrowed. "Not even close. That's the last time you'll get a story out of me."

Muneshige frowned. "Don't be that way," he raised a hand and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. His frown once again drew back up into a warm smile as their eyes met. He cupped her cheek in his hand. "What are you blushing for, anyway, hm?" She took a nervous breath in response, and he laughed. "I'm kidding, of course," he spoke gently as if he were speaking to a frightened kitten, and touched his forehead to hers. Their eyes met once again and her pupils grew as she hesitantly inched her lips closer to his. He took the hint and drew her into him, and their lips met in a soft embrace.