To yellow 14: So it would seem…

To Lyger 0: Nope! Right set, but wrong bird. I did change the miraculous itself from a feather to a scallop shell while writing that one-shot because the shell fits the pilgrimage theme a little better.

Replies to Reviews of "Encounters with Nature":

To armadas: That's fair. She had a little more motivation than that, but that was the primary reason. Not everyone gets into the hero life for purely altruistic reasons.

To yellow 14: He does take "oblivious" to an impressive level, doesn't he?

"Kampai!"

"Kampai!" Yuki echoed the guest next to her. She held up her glass, smiling brightly, watching Miyoshi out of the corner of her eye as she spoke animatedly with the man who had hired them for this business dinner, a client for whom she had hosted many previous events. Before tonight's dinner, Miyoshi hadn't explained much about their host's business, just that it was in the Kikai Tower downtown and that they had been paid double the standard fee for them to come here rather than hosting it at a restaurant closer to their okiya. Yuki had shrugged: at this stage of her training, any opportunity to learn more was appreciated. Miyoshi moved on to visit with the next gentleman at the table, so Yuki followed suit.

"The next shipment should be more than enough to satisfy him," the man informed his neighbor as Yuki knelt between them. He looked up at her in surprise when Yuki bowed and carefully refilled his cup from the available teapot. "Thank you, my dear," he told her, raising his glass. "A man could get used to being waited on by beautiful women!"

Yuki gave him a coy smile and took in the name on his business card while replacing the teapot. "You are too kind, Tsuruta-san!" she replied. "To meet fascinating people is a true joy. I am delighted to meet you and your esteemed colleagues." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a man on the other side of the table staring intently at her and Tsuruta-san. Something about him looked familiar, though she couldn't place his face.

"I am glad your employer arranged for this," Tsuruta-san's neighbor commented. "We so rarely experience the finer elements of our nation." Turning to Yuki, he asked, "And how many of these parties do you attend?"

"Oh, as many as my onee-san is invited to!" she answered brightly. "Many weeks we will be invited to three, four, or even more, and each one is just as exciting and pleasant as the last."

"I will be sure to engage you the next time I host an event." The man, Fukuzawa-san, hummed and turned back to Tsuruta-san. "I hope this shipment will be satisfactory."

Seeing that they had returned to their conversation, Yuki bowed and backed away from them. They made no acknowledgment as she moved away and continued down the table, kneeling beside the next guest, a woman around Yuki's own age.

"This is such a fascinating experience," the woman observed. "I didn't realize women like you were still around, to be honest."

"This is your first experience with an ozashiki?" asked Yuki, her eyebrows rising in mild surprise. Her smile widened as the woman nodded. "In that case, I am grateful for the opportunity to show you true, traditional Japanese hospitality!"

"So tell me," the woman asked, fixing her eyes on Yuki with a curious expression on her face. Yuki could sense the woman examining her closely. "How long does it take for you to get ready? It's so ornate and detailed."

"Makeup only takes an hour."

"And the hairstyle?"

"… Longer." Yuki giggled lightly. "We have an entire routine to prepare for parties like this, all for the purpose of ensuring the best experience for guests like you." Miyoshi had moved again, so Yuki smiled and gave the woman a bow. "If you have any questions, please ask…"

"Keiko."

"I am gratified to meet you, Keiko-san." Yuki rose and carefully made her way around the table, continuing to make talk with the guests until she finally came to the man she had recognized. Kneeling beside him she picked up the teapot and topped off his cup, watching him carefully with her peripheral vision. His eyes darted quickly around the table before returning to her.

"Thank you, Yuki-san," he told her as she replaced the teapot on the table.

"You are most welcome, Nihito-san," she responded, smoothing her kimono. "I trust you are comfortable?"

"Very comfortable," he assured her. He took a sip of his tea and glanced across the table at Tsuruta-san and Fukuzawa-san, who were speaking quietly.

At the obvious dismissal, Yuki was about to stand up when she paused, frowning. She examined his face carefully. Surely this crossed a line. But with a deep breath she plunged ahead. "You look familiar for some reason, Nihito-san."

"Really?" he asked, turning back to her in surprise. Something flashed through his eyes. "Perhaps I just have one of those faces."

She shook her head. "No, I'm certain that we have met before, though I can't think where."

"You can call me 'Hiro.'" He furrowed his brows in thought. "It couldn't be from another ozashiki, could it? It has been some time since I was invited to one."

" 'Nihito Hiro'…" she repeated slowly. "I am sorry I do not recognize your name." She hummed. "I don't think it was a previous party. Do you do kendo?"

His eyes widened. "Yes… perhaps that is it." He cocked his head, giving her a curious look. "But then how did you go from the shinai to the shamisen?"

Yuki laughed delicately, letting out a relieved sigh. "I suppose it was a natural connection," she replied. "Both kendo and geisha are integral parts of the tradition and history of our country. Both require grace, delicacy, and precision."

He nodded. "That is certainly true of kendo!" he agreed. "But all the same, I would not think to make that association."

Yuki smiled proudly. "My mother used to tell stories about her ancestor who had entered an okiya. They were all so fascinating to me, and I just had to experience it for myself. The opportunity to keep this tradition alive is quite precious." Out of the corner of her eye, Yuki noticed Miyoshi looking in her direction, giving a subtle head tilt toward the open center of the room. "And speaking of the tradition, I hope that you will enjoy the dance – my onee-san is one of the most accomplished dancers in our okiya."

"I look forward to it," he agreed. "And also to your music, Yuki-san." He raised his teacup in acknowledgement.

Yuki bowed gracefully and stood up. However, she had only taken a few steps away from Hiro and toward the corner where she had placed her shamisen when movement drew her attention back to the table. Tsuruta-san was staring across the table at Hiro, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Hiro looked back, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Don't I recognize you?" wondered Tsuruta-san, pursing his lips. "Your face, it looks so familiar for some reason." He cocked his head. "Yes… your father–"

"I have no idea what you are talking about!" Hiro interjected, laughing derisively. He rose to his feet, his eyes searching for the door.

"But it was at a business meeting… I'm sure of it."

The man sitting beside Hiro turned, staring intently at Hiro. Suddenly his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "I can't believe that I didn't realize it before: Kamiken!"

Hiro groaned. "Why does everyone still call me that?" he muttered, starting to turn.

The man next to him sprang to his feet and reached under his coat, and Yuki caught the glint of steel moments before the tonto came out of its concealment. The blade flashed in the light. On the other side of the room, Yuki heard Miyoshi gasp in shock. With quick, precise movements, Yuki crossed the space separating her from the two men, reaching into her kimono sleeve as she moved. Her hand closed around the handle of her kaiken, and it came out fluidly just as she reached them. Her free hand caught the attacker's wrist, and she parried the tonto with her own blade, knocking it to one side and away from its intended target – Hiro's side. With a little pressure, Yuki broke the assailant's grip, and his tonto clattered onto the table.

The sword tinged off a teapot, and pandemonium ensued.

Covering his head with one hand, Hiro raced from the room, ducking as he did so to avoid a thrown teacup that shattered against the far wall. The man Yuki had attacked jerked his hand out of her grip and turned on her, fist raised to strike, only to freeze in place, staring at her in shock. Guests rose to their feet around the table, and three started toward the door.

"Stop." Ishii-san's voice didn't rise. "Hashimoto-san owes our honored guest an apology for raising a hand against her. And for ruining this evening's party." At his words, the man in front of Yuki put his hands together and bowed sullenly. Yuki stayed still, her kaiken still out, unsure how to react. Ishii-san looked over the assembly before turning to Miyoshi. "In light of recent events I must ask you to leave while we attend to important matters," he told her. "However, I hope you and your hangyoku will consent to return again. Before this… unpleasantness… the evening was very enjoyable. I would like the opportunity to watch your dance."

Miyoshi bowed low. "I must apologize for my hangyoku's action. If you invite us back, we will both be happy to join you once more."

"The shame is not on the one who defended," Ishii-san replied, "but on the one who would attack another during the ozashiki – even an enemy."

"Of course." Miyoshi turned to look at Yuki, who bowed, her shoulders slumping. Miyoshi knelt at the door and left, giving Yuki a pointed look to follow.

Yuki collected her shamisen from its corner and went to leave, but Keiko-san stopped her near the door. "Your blade skills are impressive," she praised her.

"Thank you," Yuki answered slowly, looking away in embarrassment.

"That kaiken… I didn't get a good look, but it doesn't look modern."

Yuki shook her head, reaching into her kimono sleeve and running a finger along the kaiken's handle. "It has been in my family for many generations – my ancestor was a samurai, and this is the only of his weapons that his daughter was able to bring with her."

Keiko-san chuckled. "You're a descendant of samurai, and you're a geisha? You're full of surprises." She grinned. "That's funny; as it happens, my own ancestors were part of a ninja clan."

"Isn't history fascinating in that way?" asked Yuki, pushing her embarrassment aside and giving a warm smile.

"That it is," Keiko-san agreed. "It is nice to meet you, Yuki-san. Perhaps I will see you again some time."