Yasumi knew she was in trouble the moment she stepped into her house and she smelled the incense lingering in the air.
"Oh, crap!" she cursed, unceremoniously dropping her school bag and shoes in the entranceway. She had no time to grab her slippers as she rushed toward the parlor and threw the screen door open.
"You're late!" her mother snapped, looking up from the tatami in front of the family shrine. "I told you you had to be back before 5!"
"I know, I'm sorry, I totally forgot!" Yasumi said, clapping her hands together in apology. Her mother regarded her messy short hair and hiked up skirt with irritation and sighed.
"Hurry and get dressed, before the sun sets."
"Yes, Mom," she said, hurrying up the stairs toward her room, unbuttoning her school blazer as she went. She had stayed behind after school to talk with some friends, which wasn't usually a problem. Yasumi's mother, a single working parent, was normally quite lax about her daughter's activities and hours. Though willful, Yasumi usually managed any trouble she found herself in just fine, and she'd been put through a rigorous self-defense program growing up, just in case. To any outsiders, Hana Kobayashi seemed like a typical, if somewhat carefree, parent that prioritized her daughter's independence, but truthfully, Yasumi knew that Hana only let her have free-reign because she was one of the lucky few that could risk it.
"Risk, huh," she mumbled to herself as she undressed in front of her mirror. An awkward, gangling girl in the midst of puberty stared back at her. She ran a hand absentmindedly through her boyish hair, tugging at the black strands slightly.
"I guess I cut it a bit too much," she mused, angling her face to get a better look. She paused, appraising her reflection. She was no beauty, but she supposed she was cute in her own, plain sort of way. Her eyes were dark brown and almond shaped, and her face was rounded and soft. She looked perhaps a bit young for her age, and she grimaced as she cast an eye over her lack of curves. There was nothing of her long-deceased father's handsome looks, or her mother's wide, strikingly clear eyes. From the tips of her fingers to every strand of hair, Yasumi was as average a 15 year old girl as she could possibly get.
Normal as dirt, she thought dully, touching the mirror with her fingertips. That was both her blessing and her curse, and the reason she was allowed to get away with as much as she did.
Sighing, she reached for the ceremonial robe draped over her chair and tugged it on over her bra.
"Huh, you're new."
Startled by the unfamiliar voice, Yasumi shrieked and tripped over her own feet, nearly bringing the mirror crashing down off the wall. She whipped around, expecting to find an intruder in her bedroom, but it was empty. Pulling the robe firmly closed over her chest, she nervously inched toward the open window and peered out into the garden.
The afternoon light was taking on a ruddy color, casting long shadows over the plants and the magnolia tree in the center, but she couldn't see anyone or anything out of the ordinary in the shadows.
"Yasumi? Are you alright up there?" her mother's voice called.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine! I just tripped!" she shouted back into the house. Frowning to herself, she cast one last look out the open window and shook her head. "Relax, you're imagining things, Yasumi," she told herself. "It's not like anything will have changed just 'cause it's your birthday."
If it were that simple, she'd never have worried about it in the first place.
"Kobayashi, huh..."
In the shadows of the street below, a hooded figure watched the fluttering fabric of Yasumi's open window with practiced nonchalance. The evening sun glinted off the glass, casting a blinding reflection and forcing a group of passing students to shade their eyes as they walked, laughing at some joke only they understood. The figure did not make any move to get out of their way, but the students automatically walked around without so much as a glance in their direction. The figure watched them go for a moment in silence, then shoved their hands deep into their pockets and leaned back against a street pole lazily.
"Man... What a pain."