This has actually turned into a three-part sequence.
I'm beginning to really like Yuuma. Shame he dies, right? ;_;

Enjoy ^^

"Kanon..."

Upon being called, she looked up from where she sat. Yuuma approached her.

Stopping a few feet from her, he noted the bundle of cloth in her lap. His sister quickly bunched it between her hands to hide it from his sight. His mouth quirked in a restrained smile. Despite their mother's insistence, she hated needlework.

"Come to the market with me?" He asked with a light tone.

Kanon quirked an eyebrow at him, tilting her head questioningly.

"I'm sure you'd be glad to get out of here for a while." She was already rising to her feet as he spoke, and he chuckled. Apparently she needed no convincing, and she swiped the detested cloth to the floor upon which she had sat.

Among the busy streets of the city, the pair walked together, silently. The shuffling of Yuuma's straw sandals contrasted with the hollow clacking of Kanon's shoes upon the hard dirt street, drowned out among the bustle of the surrounding citizens.

Kanon's silent manner was typically off-putting to most people who had to encounter her. Yuuma seemed to be the exception. The brother seemed unfazed by his nearly wordless sister. Although no one would describe their behavior as 'close', she seemed tolerant of him, her temper less volatile with him than with others.

Indeed, she followed him without so much as an inquiry as to where they were headed.

It was spring, and it was warm, the sunlight soft as it poured upon the city today. It was almost midday as Yuuma led Kanon to the blacksmith's. As he stepped inside to find his usual, Kanon opted to stay at the doorway. With a quick glance over his shoulder at her sudden halt, Yuuma then proceeded to chat with the men seated inside; some were warriors who lounged around waiting for the work to be done on their weapons, and other the members of the guild who worked or took breaks.

Standing at the threshold, Kanon swept her sharp eyes around the room inside. They came to rest on the impressive weapons mounted upon the wall or piled in storage containers. She largely ignored the men inside, and for the most part they ignored her. After her curiosity was sated, she then went back to watching the streets.

Finding the man he was looking for, Yuuma gave him a smile and a polite greeting.

"Jiro-san," He received a friendly gesture in return as he drew his katana from his belt. "I'm going to require your services again."

"No problem for me." Jiro laughed heartily and carefully took the weapon in hand and took to inspecting it. He peered past the young man and noted the girl standing by the doorway. "Is that your sister there?"

At being addressed, Kanon turned her face inward again, and noted the curious faces gazing back at her. It wouldn't be a stretch to say she felt uncomfortable; nonetheless, Kanon's proud shoulders didn't drop as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Yes." Yuuma confirmed. "That's my younger sister Kanon."

"Really?" Jiro inspected her from afar. "How old is she?"

"Thirteen."

"Thirteen!? I don't believe that, Yuuma-sama."

"She is..."

"She's tall for her age...."

"She is..."

"Kinda pretty."

"She is..."

Kanon bristled slightly. The hostility that came off her was subtle, and not quite threatening enough to deter the looks that were directed at her. It annoyed her, and her strong gaze only sharpened, and she pointedly ignored the leering men.

Seeing that she wasn't going to actually be personally addressed, Kanon turned back out to the street, stepping outside and leaning against the wall.

Having left his sword with the blacksmith, Yuuma temporarily slipped into its place a substitute, and continued walking with Kanon. He noticed that his sister actually rose above his shoulder; how tall was she?

She was, as always, quiet. Somewhat unexpectedly though, she muttered, "They were staring at me."

Yuuma caught the indignation in her tone, and tried to assure her, "It's because I've never brought you with me there before."

She opened her mouth to say something else. Apparently, however, she changed her mind and pursed her lips instead.

Eventually, Yuuma stopped at a vendor to purchase some dumplings. As they crossed over a bridge, he handed one of the small boxes to Kanon, and leaned against the wooden fence. Beside him, she leaped atop the fence, causing a passerby to gasp at first, and sat cross-legged upon the narrow ledge. Several people stared. Kanon paid little mind to them. Yuuma paid little mind to her, flipping open the top of the container.

"Don't fall." He said absentmindedly, but knew she wouldn't.

With her dress draping over her folded legs and flapping gently in the breeze, Kanon picked up the first dumpling with her chopsticks.

A few minutes went by, and Yuuma leaned back, his elbow atop the railing, and popped another dumpling in his mouth. With a tone between longing and defeat, he drawled, "I wish you didn't resent me."

Blinking in curiosity, Kanon ducked her head down to peer at her brother. She searched his face, his averted eyes, then straightened her back before replying, "I don't resent you."

"Do you really not?" Yuuma stole a glance at her face.

She shook her head, and he quirked an eyebrow.

"I think you're lying. Not even a little?"

Taken aback, Kanon chewed slowly. Resent him....? "I don't."

"Hm." Yuuma plucked another dumpling from the box.

Kanon frowned slightly, but said nothing.

Later that evening, the chirps of the cicadas muted Kanon's footsteps. She strode through the air of dusk, illuminated only by glimpses of light from the small torches mounted to the outside of the porch's support pillars and the fading glow of the sky. Her shoes left barely any mark on the earth, soft from last night's rain, and the sweet clean scent lingered, rising from the earth and the lush foliage that grew around the manor's land.

In her slender hand was the sword with which she practiced with. The teacher whom her father had hired for her had just left. She glanced around to make sure no one was around, then lay down on her back on the wooden porch, the sword by her side. Knees bent and feet flat, Kanon crossed her arms behind her head to rest on them. If caught like this, she would have been scolded.

But she hardly cared, and nearly dozed off at the lullaby of the nearby cicadas, until the sound of hollow footsteps on the wooden floor alerted her. Quickly, she sat up. Propped up on her elbows, she was just in time to catch Yuuma sitting as well, with his legs over the side of the ledge.

They looked so much alike; the same blonde hair, the same red eyes, the same alabaster skin, and the same slender frame. Yet their manner was of such striking comparison, it was difficult to imagine them to be related. While Yuuma's face was humble, genuine, his sister's remained striking, intense.

She watched him. Her curious eyes flickered about his semi-visible face, searching for clues. People often complained she was enigmatic; yet she wondered how no one seemed to acknowledge the air of mystery that surrounded the first child.

"Kanon." Yuuma said absently. She gave a small utterance of acknowledgement, and he asked carefully, as though he were about to begin treading a very feeble bridge, "What makes you unhappy?"

"Unhappy?"

"Yes."

A moth fluttered across her field of vision, and she gazed at it, as it flew, predictably, to hover about one of the small flames above her head.

"Am I unhappy?" She inquired.

"Are you?"

He was looking at her now. She stared back at him. In that moment, she felt as though she could have been meeting him for the first time. There was a solemnity in his eyes she hadn't seen before.

"Yuuma, why would I be happy?" Kanon challenged, her words clipped and her tone icy.

He chuckled. Usually, she kept herself under control around their parents. Once in a while her indifference would slip in lieu of that frustration he glimpsed at now, and it usually got her scolded.

"Why, indeed." Yuuma wondered aloud, almost to himself. He turned, resting one leg on the porch floor, so he might look at her better. Curious, she watched him, but leaned back against the floor as she did, the back of her head resting on her bent elbows. He continued with a quiet utterance, "Sometimes I wonder why you've been born here."

She frowned. It was difficult to tell for her if he was mocking her or not. "Don't tease me."

"I'm not." Amused affectionately by her temper, he shrugged his shoulders to show that he meant no offense. "It's just that you seem so...bored."

"Bored?"

He nodded. She considered this carefully. The expression in her eyes exhibited her unspoken agreement, and Kanon closed them.

"Don't fall asleep."

"I won't."

"If you do...I'll tickle you."

Her eyes snapped open, and she glared at him, as if he had said something vulgar. Yuuma only laughed. "Trying to be cute with you doesn't work, does it?"

"You're not cute." Kanon snapped.

"Well...neither are you." Yuuma confessed.

"I don't care."

"I know you don't."

Kanon's glare didn't falter, and she only frowned deeper at Yuuma's visibly restrained laughter.

"I didn't mean that in an insulting way, just so you know." He assured her. "I only meant that you don't fit into that role."

"I already said I didn't care." Kanon told him, and closed her eyes again in a show of apathy. However, the frown still evident in her features, the tensed muscles, were proof of her lingering irritation.

Yuuma looked out to the yard. Without any eyes on him right now, he felt more at ease. Or more, he could allow the relaxation to show in his face. It had been remarked, not always fondly, that his face was too amicable. His sister was the fierce one, not him. Her elusive manner made her seem non-confrontational; but he knew she could be impressively bold if she felt the need to. Kanon's silence, he observed, was from a naturally withdrawn personality, coupled with annoyance that she preferred to avoid. It was far from shyness. It wasn't sweetness.

When he looked back over to his sibling, he noticed her half-opened eyes. For once, she appeared to be calm.

Although his wish wasn't to provoke her out of precious relaxation, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He pulled back, and she shot up so quickly that had he been any slower their heads would have smashed together.

Indignantly, she clasped one hand to her forehead, and stared at him, stupefied. For once, she appeared speechless from a complete loss of words, before she half-growled, half-yelped, "What was that?"

Yuuma smiled. "It was a kiss on the forehead, Kanon. No need to be so startled."

Annoyed, she wiped at her forehead and glanced at her hand, as if she expected there to be evidence of some sort of toxin. Then, she leaned back on her extended arms, elbows locked, and frowned at him again.

Since she appeared to be asking for explanation, Yuuma simply shrugged as an answer. He felt no desire to elaborate, and once he shifted his back to Kanon again, she gave up expecting one.

Behind him, he heard the girl stand and walk away. Softly, the door to her room clacked shut. He did not look over his shoulder, but instead to the waning moon.

Oh, and, that kiss? Not incestuous at all.
Just felt that needed to be said. :]