Ren didn't see the lights of the inn until they were nearly stumbling over the front stoop, so thick was the whirling snow. Kijima tugged at the door; a drift nearly to his knees barricaded it. Hikaru huddled with his friends in front of an iced-over window, Shinichi banging on the frosted glass. "Custom!" he yelled, his breath a fog snatched by the wind. "Open up, we have coin!"

"Do we?" Hikaru said, his teeth chattering.

Shinichi shrugged, peering around Hikaru to Yuusei. "Do we?"

Yuusei shook his head, Shinichi's wolf mask now crowning his head. They traded things back and forth so often it made them seem interchangeable, like their bodies were props for a single personality.

Ren reached over Kijima and ripped open the door, striding inside. The blizzard swirled in around him, raising a chorus of gasps from the half-full room. He dragged a chair over to in front of the fire, sitting in it and leaning forward, nearly touching the flames. His progress across the room had been swift, but purposeful. There were only a few patrons of note. Two men at the bar, one with tousled dark hair and a bow and arrow. The other was older, with a heavy mustache and an equally heavy tankard of beer. And a woman who leaned over a man with exhausted eyes, her chest grazing his bowl-cut hair. The outline of a knife showed beneath her tight bodice.

A female inkeep came bustling out of one of the two exit doors, marking that one as the kitchen and a source of knives. "Masters," the inkeep sang out, "close the door, have a seat by the-" she caught sight of Ren at the fire; her voice trailed off. "-by the bar. I have meat stew and the finest ale."

The cook followed more slowly in her wake. He held a wicked knife in his hand. His eyes landed on Ren as the door swung shut behind him, then never left again, even as he began chopping a rabbit's hindquarters into bite-size chunks. Ren grunted, sloughing his cape off onto the chair. Snow melted from his boots, puddling on the floor.

Hikaru was already striking a deal with the inkeep. She pointed to a stool in the corner near the tired man and his escort. Hikaru bowed deeply, sashaying over to perch atop the high stool and unwrap his beloved. His brothers clapped heartily, elbowing the seated patrons as they walked to the fire and Ren. Ren grabbed a tankard from a barmaid and buried his face in it. Kijima looked like he wanted to bury his face in the barmaid, but he leaned against the mantle instead.

"I've half a mind to see if the innkeep needs my services," he said quietly to Ren. "I've been out of funds since Takarada's party."

Ren jerked his chin toward Hikaru. "Silver tongues bring silver coin." He wiped his chin. "No need to charge for something you'd be willing to give for free."

Kijima's laugh was hearty. "Not those services. Good lord, man. Have you seen the cook? One wrong touch on the Mistress's bosom and I'd be missing a hand. No, sir, my scribing." He patted the small case strapped to his belt.

Ren raised his eyebrows. "Honest work?"

"It takes some getting used to," Kijima said with a dramatic sigh. "The swordplay I picked up from you is decidedly more interesting. But I am rather less likely to die with my first career." With that and a wink, he wandered over to the bar. The innkeep nodded enthusiastically, gesturing for the cook to join her. Kijima would get them all a bed after all, it seemed.

Hikaru began to play, a rollicking country tune meant to set people's boots tapping and turn their hearts his way. He'd roll into an adventure or war tune next, gripping their minds-then finish them off with a tale of grief, dragging tears and coins from their palms. Ren's beer was empty, and the whirling dance Yuusei and Shinichi had begun in front of him was only getting started.

A waitress swerved past him as she served beers, leaning down close enough he could smell the cloves on her breath. "Okami says your room's ready, Sir Knight." She licked her lips, a tiny movement Ren was well familiar with. "My name is Kimiko."

He nodded, averting his eyes from her cleavage. He caught Kijima's instead, the man falling back into his former occupation, a pen scratching away at a piece of paper as he copied some document down for the innkeep. The waitress walked away with a quiet huff.

Reader, we are at a crossroads. If Ren should stay and make merry, go to Chapter 35. If Ren should go upstairs to bed, go to Chapter 36.