For the thirtieth time that day, Ryoma found himself staring, once again, at the girl in front of him who was struggling to look out of the small window. Her petite form was shaking slightly, fighting for balance as she attempted to stretch to her maximum height on tiptoes, and her auburn hair still looked more like a bird's nest than the neat braids she had apparently attempted to make them be. Yet her fair complexion was now flushed with excitement as she scanned the view with a hunger that held true to her words of never being let out of her father's house.
His eyes drifted down to the pistol, again all but forgotten on the cold hard floor, and his eyebrow quirked involuntarily with helpless amusement. He bent down and picked it up, then slipped it into his sling without a word. For now, it seemed like it was going to be a much safer home than her skirt pocket, that's for sure.
Then, slightly curious at what had caught her attention this time, he leaned his uninjured arm on the frame of the window above her head and also peered out of the wagon.
The first thing he noticed was the aroma of candied hazelnuts mingled with wood smoke wafting in from the gathering dusk falling over the treetops. Shadows flew by in a blur of grey as the wagon rolled steadily forward. Then his eyes took in the sight of a single hut flashing by – then a second and third and fourth – and suddenly they were rolling on the edge of a village square brightly lit by countless torches bursting with fiery hot flames and a massive bonfire that roared ferociously and spat out showers of golden sparks with hiccups of smoke.
There were people everywhere, meandering around the handful of stalls fanned out around the bonfire, dancing and skipping in time with the merry gigue streaming out from a small cheerful ensemble close to the entrance to the square. Children were giggling and weaving through the clusters of adults clutching sticks of caramel apples and crispy warm bread filled with fresh cream and dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon, and the hum of conversation was mixed with hoots of laughter and loud passionate cries from the stall keepers to attract potential customers.
The Fire Festival.
Ryoma peered down at the girl's face below him, and her shining eyes were as large as saucers as they tried to absorb everything they saw. She was clutching the window frame so tightly her knuckles had turned white, and her small lips were slightly parted in wonder.
It was a long moment before she seemed to register that Ryoma was looking at her, and as her head whipped around, Ryoma could see the alarm written on her face at his proximity. Her rosy cheeks reddened even more, but he found it difficult to judge whether it was a trick of firelight or from the overwhelming excitement, or neither. Hastily, she dropped down from her toes and took a step back, as if he was a huge venomous spider waiting to bite off her head, and he was equally surprised to find a prick of disappointment in his chest, as if a kitten he had tried to feed all day had raced back under the bed after taking only a single bite.
As the wagon finally rolled to a stop, Ryoma took another quick glance out of the window. They had stopped at a clearing in the corner of the square between a cart selling pulled candy and a busker juggling with flaming torches that hissed as he put the ends in his mouth.
"…Where are we?" A faint squeaky voice drew his attention back to the wagon. He looked at her a long moment before answering.
"Ignis, the village of fire," He said softly, and allowed himself to show a small smirk when she stared blankly back at him. He gestured towards the swell of activity outside, "The nature of our job means we always follow the crowd, and nothing is better than that gathered at a festival."
As if on cue, the door of the wagon was flung open at the precise instant, and Kikumaru burst in with an excited cry.
"Come on, Ochibi, Sakuno-chan!" His bright red hair glowed softly in the flickering firelight as he bounced around the room, grabbing costumes and wigs off the rack with obvious enthusiasm.
"Now's the time!"
The play was magnificent.
And very entertaining.
Very.
Right from the first moment Oishi hobbled onto the stage cloaked in a flowery shawl and a tiny pair of spectacles sitting at the end of his nose, Sakuno was choking with laughter along with the rest of the audience. The crowd had started gathering as soon as they had set up the stage from a contraption on top of the wagon, and by the time the show began it had grown to a very impressive size. Sakuno found that she was regrettably not much help backstage – for it certainly didn't help that she was blushing furiously every time she glimpsed a bare chest or a man just in his leggings - hence she had chosen to wander to the front and mingle with the anticipating crowd, while securing herself a place with the best view.
It was certainly a very appreciative crowd, and Sakuno immensely enjoyed the swell of emotion and waves of squeals and laughter that arose out from everywhere around her. She could feel her own mood rise and fall with the gasps and sighs of the women and the shouts and groans of the men – and she absolutely loved the fast-paced adventure that the crew of the company had weaved out.
Like Kikumaru described – the performance was filled with refreshing comedy, juicy romance, wicked betrayal, and nerve wrecking pursues of the hero and heroine. Often the actors had to multi-task and portray many different characters in consecutive scenes, and Sakuno found it endlessly amusing to see Kikumaru as the beautiful raven-haired heroine with an exaggerated high-pitched voice in one scene, and a proud stern soldier in stiff gleaming uniform hunting down the protagonists in the next. Or Fuji as a poor old beggar in rags pleading at the heroine's feet in one act, then transformed to the handsome courageous Duke that made all the ladies in the audience sigh in the next.
But what she wasn't expecting was the reaction of the women around her when Ryoma stepped onto the stage. The women positively screamed their hearts out when the young Prince bowed deeply to the audience and held out a hand to the heroine, who blushed on the spot and made an act of shrinking back behind a pillar in shyness. Not that he would, of course, be discouraged. Ryoma – or The Prince – clad in a shining red vest over a snowy white shirt that hid his bandages, flashed a wickedly charming smirk at the audience and softened it into a smile as he turned back to the heroine. Then slowly, as if approaching a fearful puppy, he inched forward while murmuring sweet soothing words until he finally took hold of her hand, which he brought up to his lips for a feather-light kiss.
The ladies fell into a frenzy then, and Sakuno could hardly believe her eyes when she spotted several men rushing out of the crowd, shouting as they struggled to cart limp female bodies out of the captivated crowd.
She told herself that it was because he was playing the Prince, but even she couldn't help feeling a flutter of disappointment and a lingering admiration when it was revealed in the finale that Ryoma was the evil villain scheming to steal the heroine away from the Duke. And neither could the rest of the women, obviously. There were gasps of disbelief and even tears of betrayal as Sakuno spotted a few handkerchiefs fluttering in the cool night breeze. He had certainly played the perfect kind-hearted Prince convincingly enough.
The play ended in a strong flood of applause and piercing whistles urging for an encore. The curtain call dragged on as the actors smiled in gratitude and repeatedly bowed to the blinding shower of coins that clinked against the floor of the stage, soon forming small silver pools interspersed with fresh fragrant flowers that bounced in a flurry of orange and red petals as they were cast at the actor's feet.
Sakuno clapped just as long and hard as everyone else. She clapped until her hands were raw and stinging and still she banged her hands together in awe. This was a world away from the plays she had previously been shown – and far more exciting and overwhelming than anything she could ever have imagined. So many things amazed her – the bountiful energy of the actors even after a long day on the road, the flawless dialogue and smiles and gestures that were cued at precisely the perfect time.
And of course, the unexpected talent that her silent travel companion had for making her fearful and awkward one moment, and blushing and smiling like an idiot the next.
It was almost alarming to think what more he could do.
"What are you doing?"
She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Whipping her head around, she was for a moment frozen for words as Ryoma's unreadable eyes bore into hers. He had changed back to his normal attire of a plain white shirt and brown breeches, and his sling was back in place around his neck.
"You've been standing here like a statue forever," Ryoma smirked and gestured behind her with his uninjured hand. "The crowd is long gone."
Sakuno looked around slowly. And sure enough, she was standing quite alone in front of the empty stage, with some bare skewers and breadcrumbs littered near her feet.
"O-Oh… I'm sorry," She stammered, but as soon as the words left her mouth she felt ridiculous. Why was she apologizing? But words of compliment seemed to have stuck in her throat like a particularly big piece of dry stale bread. Despite her struggle to get them out, they refused to budge; leaving her mouth opening and closing like a petrified goldfish.
Yet it seemed that her efforts to speak was in futile, because before she realised what was happening she was being pulled impatiently toward the crowds at the other end of the square.
"Come on, do you want to see the festival or not?"
Sakuno stared down wordlessly at the strong grip around her wrist, and felt the familiar heat rising up from her neck. She tried her best to fight it down, and increased her pace to keep up with her companion.
"Wait - Where is everyone else?"
"Oh they're all going to the inn first to sleep – I'd imagine they've seen enough festivals in their lifetime to miss this one."
"Then… what about you? If you want to rest I can-"
"I had a nap in the wagon today so I'm fine."
"But you have seen this festival before, too?"
He shrugged lightly in response.
"I kind of feel like a candied apple so thought…no harm done."
She beamed, her eyes already glowing with excitement.
"Candied apple! …What's that?"
The blast of tangy juice mixed with the crunch of salted sweetness from the caramel coating melted into a blissful symphony of flavours that lingered on her tongue long after she had swallowed the first bite.
Sakuno was mute with happiness as she devoured the candied apple in big satisfying chunks, ignoring the juice that trickled down her chin from the corner of her mouth.
It wasn't until she had polished off the skewer and was licking her lips in content that she realised how boorish she must have looked, munching on a big apple like there was no tomorrow. And she immediately felt a thousand times worse when she met the scrutinizing eyes of Ryoma standing beside her, having also just finished his caramel apple. The amusement in his face was unmistakable now and she wished she could sink straight through the ground to the other side of the earth.
"Obviously hadn't had one of those, huh?" He cocked his eyebrow and had the satisfaction of watching her blush as she dabbed at the corner of her lips.
"Like I said… my father never let me-"
"-out of the house. Yes, yes, I remember."
He led her through the crowd towards another stall selling roasted hazelnuts glazed with sparkling syrup, glancing back frequently to ensure she hadn't vanished into the throng of bodies.
So far this festival had been absolutely mind-blowing. Sakuno had never encountered anything like it in her life – it was an exciting adventure for her senses as she smelled and tasted and watched everything with intense fascination. In fact, she swore her brain was so overflowing with new information steam was coming out from her ears. Although slightly worried that her companion would grow irritated with her wealth of questions, Ryoma had been surprisingly patient and although the answers were never long, he did provide her with one whenever she asked. The only time he appeared reluctant to reply was when she had questioned why a certain girl had given him an extra bag of spiced cheese rolls and insisted with a blush for him to keep it.
"Do you know her?" She asked curiously, to which Ryoma only grunted in annoyance and circled back to discreetly leave a few extra coins on the counter.
By the time they had made their way around the full circle of stalls, the bonfire had died down to a pile of glowing embers smoldering with white smoke. Much of the crowd had dispersed and there were only a few stray couples still lingering on the dance floor, swaying gently to the yawning string crescendos and blurring murmurs of the accordion.
Sakuno was exhausted. Her thrilling experience had drained much of the energy she had built up over a long day cooped up in a wagon, but she could not stop smiling in memory as she followed Ryoma along the quiet village streets towards the inn. Yet just as the music and bustle of the festival grounds had faded to a faint hum, Ryoma stopped and pressed a finger to his lips as Sakuno looked up at him questioningly.
He led her away from the dim streets into the shadow of the trees, and for a moment Sakuno panicked, thinking whether she had been too relaxed around this man. She had only known him for a day, after all. But as Ryoma helped her over the tangled roots and crumbling rocks scattered over the earth, she began to breathe a little easier again.
She did not know when, but the suspicion from his eyes had faded at some point during the night. Although those golden eyes remained cool and composed, they had somehow lost the sharp edge and she found herself wanting to stir up some emotion in those deep pools several times throughout the night, just to see what hid behind that mysterious cold veil.
When they broke through the thick canopy of trees, Sakuno stopped. She had thought that no matter what happened she could not be anymore astonished than she already was, but it seemed like she was again proven wrong.
"They're cherry blossoms – It's pretty hard to see them this early anywhere else," Ryoma said to her as he made his way toward the giant ring of trees whose branches were so full with flourishing pink and white petals they seemed like they were curled under the weight, or it could be Sakuno's imagination.
As Sakuno followed in a daze, the smooth snowy petals floated around them like tiny winged fairies, kissing the top of their hair and cheeks and muffling their footsteps with a thin layer of soft velvet, as if they were treading upon a shimmering cloud. She almost believed they had intruded on a hauntingly beautiful dream.
There was a large flat rock positioned perfectly in the center of the ring of trees, and as they sat down Sakuno rubbed her sore feet gratefully, unaccustomed to standing for hours in unfamiliar footwear.
"How did you find this place?" Her voice came out as a soft whisper, as if in fear of destroying the magical quality of the secluded space.
"Someone once showed it to me," He replied in an equally soft voice.
An image of Ryoma accompanied by a beautiful girl with a fiery red mane under these cherry blossom trees suddenly popped into Sakuno's head, and she pushed the unwelcome thought aside as best as she could.
There was a long silence as they bathed in the silver moonlight and watched the blossoms sway gently in the night breeze.
"Ryoma-kun… how long have you been acting?"
"…Acting? About two years," He paused, picking a petal off the rock and shredding it into tiny pieces. "Two years since I've joined Seishun anyway."
She looked at him, surprised.
"Only two years? I would have thought… you have been acting your whole life!" She drew her knees higher up on the rock and rested her chin on them. "What were you doing before that?"
"…You really want to know?" The amber eyes flashed at her, and for a moment she felt a chill crawl up her spine. "I was a pickpocket."
She gaped at him in alarm, searching for a trace of humour in his face. There was none.
"Seriously?"
He smirked then, and shook his head. Sakuno felt her face redden and swallowed a sigh of relief.
"I was just a kitchen hand in a tavern," He looked away then, and she thought she detected hollowness in his voice.
She thought back to the kitchen maids she had encountered up until that point – the grease on their hands and faces that never completely washed away and the ugly welts from burns that covered their fingers. She felt instant sympathy for him. No wonder he had chosen acting over that.
"…And that's why you decided to join Seishun? The job in the tavern was… not ideal?" She asked carefully.
There was a long pause, and she almost believed he was not going to answer when he finally spoke.
"No, I joined Seishun for an adventure, to see the world," He turned to her, his radiant eyes blazing as they met hers.
"Just like you, Your Highness."
