Note: This is a compilation of connected stories, although most are just snippets. Had wanted to make a book, but I was getting ahead of myself at that time. It's like something with a beginning and an end, but very little in the middle. But it is what it is.

Summer's tedium was the worst—Ohtori Kensaku had little doubt of that as he walked away from his house. The echoes of merry laughter and loud chatter in the building remained with him for some time—he'd never understood what it was all about and couldn't ask either; those self-important adults would just tell him to go away.

For he, who was accustomed to city life—even if he didn't necessarily enjoy it—there's only little the tiny island of Hashira can offer. There were only a handful of children his age, and after weeks he was still reluctant to approach any of them, unsettled by their inquisitive glances.

Ambling past a row of trees lining the beaten path to the occasional sound of crickets and wind chimes, he caught a glimpse of a lone girl slumbering under the tallest tree. The sight briefly left him wondering if he saw things—the girl had the brownest hair he had ever seen, tied into a ponytail that must have reached her ankles. She was dressed in a very striking red garment.

Ohtori found himself staring and continued to do so despite his mounting misgivings; that girl was too different from the others to ignore.

The longer he did, the more he treasured how peaceful and innocent she looked—and he would've stayed there longer if only she didn't stir.

That slight movement spurred him to leave in haste. He regretted looking away, but he knew it was for the best—that way, he wouldn't have to explain himself if she woke up.

Ohtori walked some more until a flute's faint, somber tune gave him pause and left him feeling much colder. Pulling his coat closer around himself, he searched his surroundings for the source. Eventually, his sight landed on the shrine nearby. The shrine was decrepit and often left not well-lit because the island was poor.

Yet, against the apprehension and the wild pounding in his chest, Ohtori headed into the shrine's interior, drawn by something in the peculiar tune. The sound grew more vibrant the closer he got to the central shrine before it abruptly stopped. On instinct, he did the same.

"Where is she…?" there was a voice, apparently belonging to a young girl; Ohtori scurried behind the nearest tree upon hearing it.

Why am I hiding? It's just some girl; he berated himself as soon as he realized what he had done.

It could be a ghost.

There is no such thing as a ghost.

Says someone afraid of ghost stories.

Ignoring that, and not wanting to debate further with himself and feeling like a fool, Ohtori went out of his hiding place and continued walking.

As he tripped and fell halfway, he wondered if he was walking too fast.

"Oh my," he could hear the voice again. Slowly, he raised his head and froze as a pair of blue eyes stared back.

They belonged to a girl with snow-white hair flowing with the wind; a red-white flower ornament, apparently handmade, adorned it. She held a bamboo flute in one hand, and Ohtori quickly figured it out to be the source of the melody he had heard earlier.

"To fall like that...are you hurt somewhere? Can you stand?" The girl inquired with a smile, the kind that one cannot easily discern; Ohtori cannot make out for sure what was behind it—between derision and concern, it can go either way.

The only thing he was sure of was that his knees were weak and trembling. He was sweating, despite feeling cold earlier. When his mouth opened, no words came out, as if something held his tongue back.

The girl's face turned vacant upon the sight; she shook her head and offered Ohtori a hand.

"Here, let me help you."

"I can...do that myself," Ohtori refused, but all his attempts to stand on his own ended in failure.

The girl, seeing that, shook her head again; this time, she simply seized the boy's hand and raised him up.

He didn't know how, but the moment she held his hand, he gained enough strength to stay on his feet. Standing before the girl, he could see she was taller than him.

"Th-thanks," he said despite his slight annoyance over that fact.

The girl had just removed her hand from him—but not her gaze. It was faint and gentle, but he could see the firm will behind it.

"Are you perhaps seeing a ghost? Your knees are shaking," she asked. Something in the question left Ohtori uneasy—it felt too much like a test.

"Just cold; ghosts don't exist," he lied.

"I see. Even though you're wearing a coat," the girl said, again giving him the feeling that she was indeed testing him.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly good with cold," replied Ohtori; he wrapped the coat around him tighter after saying that.

"Ah, I see. That's to be expected; you're a human, after all," she murmured and looked away. Scratching the back of his head, Ohtori cast an anxious glance at the gate; for a while, he entertained the idea of turning tail and running away. That thought was gone when she turned to face him again and spoke.

"But it is unbecoming of me not to introduce myself to people I'm supposed to protect, isn't it?"

The sound of crickets filled the air. The wind rustled the leaves. But Ohtori could only hear his own heartbeat.

The girl smiled the same smile, which he still couldn't comprehend.

"I suppose...you can call me Shoukaku."

"Shou-ka-ku...?" Ohtori repeated, syllable by syllable—her name was as unusual as her appearance. But she's no ghost or any manner of ghastly supernatural creatures; that much he was sure. Didn't she hold his hand before? It felt genuine—if she was perhaps an onryo, he didn't think he would still be alive right now. She would not help him get up and kill him instead.

As he thought of that, he felt a little ashamed but relieved; yet, one question remained, begging for an answer—who is she, really, then? He couldn't bring himself to ask that.

"And you are?" she closed the distance as she asked the question, and Ohtori, on instinct, stepped back. Seeing that, Shoukaku broke into a giggle.

"Oh, apologies if I make you uneasy," she said, her mysterious smile returning shortly after.

"Ah, no, I'm the one overreacting. Um, my name is Ohtori Kensaku."

Shoukaku seemed oddly pleased when she heard the name.

"Ah, then we're both birds," she remarked. Another giggle soon followed; it wasn't something out of the ordinary, nothing remarkable, something he heard every so often.

Without realizing it, he had already decided who she really was was unimportant.

"I guess so," he replied, along with a laugh of his own, having relaxed considerably. "I like my family name better than my own given name."

"I could see why; one is just plain, the other...majestic."

"You could've skipped the plain part," Ohtori retorted. He indeed disliked his given name for that reason.

"My, I'm sorry, then, Ohtori," she apologized, though Ohtori didn't really care much for the apology and more about how she spoke his name.

"Nah, it's okay, Shoukaku."

"Then, if I may ask, what are you doing here, Ohtori?"

Ohtori hesitated. Should he say it? That he was drawn by her music? That would be embarrassing.

"Just strolling around, got nothing to do," he said. He reasoned that it was only partially untrue when he felt another guilt building up.

"Ah, dreary summer nights; I was waiting for my sister, myself. We're supposed to meet here."

"Sister...?" Ohtori intoned as he thought of the girl he saw earlier and wondered if she was related to Shoukaku.

"I do have one; her name is Zuikaku," she replied; there was pride in her words, though Ohtori could not decide if she was proud of her sister or the fact that she had one.

In any case, he figured it was really time for him to leave.

"I see; well, I guess… I'll be off then, so I won't disturb you guys…."

He thought that'd be all, but Shoukaku tilted her head instead of bidding him goodbye. She looked like he had just said something incomprehensible.

"You don't want to meet my sister?"

"…Well, I'm just going to bore you two, I think," he tried again.

"Oh, don't just decide that on your own. Look, she's already here."

And again, instead of just letting him go, Shoukaku did something else. This time she pointed towards the shrine entrance. Another person, whom Ohtori recognized as indeed the girl he saw earlier, came running as she ascended the stairs and made a graceful stop before the two.

"Sorry, Shoukaku-nee! I overslept…Hey, who is this, your new friend?"

Before Ohtori could answer—in part thanks to the girl's sudden arrival—Shoukaku had already said something in his place.

"Oh, you could put it that way. After all, we've each told the other our names. Why don't you two get to know each other too?"

Unlike what Ohtori had feared, the other girl didn't seem repulsed by the idea. She turned to face him with a huge smile.

"Why not! Name's Zuikaku; nice meeting you… what's your name?"

"Ohtori. Ohtori Kensaku. Just call me Ohtori."

"Oh! Wow, that's a nice name."

Her compliment was earnest, and Ohtori wished he could just speak his appreciation clearly instead of stammering.

"Well then, perhaps Ohtori would like to stay and see how we spar?" Shoukaku offered.

"Spar?"

"We are practicing kendo," Zuikaku replied. "I'm getting good at it. Isn't that right, Shoukaku-nee?"

Zuikaku certainly really admired her sister, or at least valued her opinion, Ohtori noted; she looked hopeful when she spoke the question. Shoukaku's affirmation of that was so sincere, too, not something she'd say just to coddle.

"Alright! C'mon, Shoukaku-nee! Let's start," Zuikaku went to Shoukaku and started tugging at her sleeve. She just laughed it off.

"Okay, okay."

Ohtori followed the two back to the courtyard before the central shrine and made himself comfortable on the steps. Just before, Zuikaku had practically begged for him to stay and watch the spar. The thought of her being eager to show off even to a person who's basically a stranger was quite endearing, and he had no other choice but to stay.

The sisters, each with a shinai in hand, put up a stance; Zuikaku's kiai soon echoed in the air as she moved to make her first strike. She lacked finesse, but she had an abundance of tenacity for one so small. In contrast, Shoukaku was more patient and content to be on the defensive. She would dodge what she could not parry until soon—an opportunity presented itself.

Men!

With that cry, her shinai landed on Zuikaku's forehead. The latter could only stare at the weapon as it remained on her head.

"I won," Shoukaku said with just a bit of satisfaction.

"Grr! One more time! This time I will win!"

"Oh…you don't want to lose in front of a new friend, am I right?" Shoukaku removed the shinai from an aggravated Zuikaku, who stomped her feet on the pavement in response.

"No! It's just…one more time! Come on!"

"Would you like to try? Do you know kendo?"

"Me…?" Ohtori had to point at himself. He realized after that it only served to make him look stupid. There was nobody else there.

"Yes."

Ohtori hesitated for a moment. He did know a thing or two about kendo, as his father forced him to take it up before, but to compete against girls? He didn't like the idea even though he had already learned they were no less skilled than most boys he knew.

"Um…well, I do know kendo…but is it, you know, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry about us. We're stronger than we look," Shoukaku replied, her voice slightly raised.

"Yeah! Oh, I know, fight me! I want to see how good you are!" Zuikaku chimed in, stepping in front of her sister and pointing the shinai towards Ohtori. He didn't know why, but he could feel himself shivering.

"Well, okay…" Ohtori rose and took the shinai Shoukaku offered. He watched as Zuikaku took another stance and pondered if he would regret this. He quickly knew he would when he noticed the girl rushing forward, shinai raised.

Whether she was only unconsciously trying to compensate for her earlier loss or just got swept at the moment, Zuikaku was more aggressive than before, and despite his best effort, Ohtori had a hard time keeping up. It wasn't long until she landed a strike, which made his world spin, his vision blurry, and caused him to nearly topple backward if Shoukaku didn't catch him in time.

"Goodness, be mindful of your strength," she said, shaking her head and helping Ohtori steady himself.

"Oh no! I'm sorry! I got too excited and…you know, I'm sorry!" Zuikaku dropped the shinai and bowed over and over as Ohtori nursed the bruise. The action reminded him of the old drinking bird toy he used to own—it amused him more than it should be.

"Ah, it's my fault anyway for getting caught off-guard. You are strong," Ohtori said, and Zuikaku immediately stopped bowing. He noted that she seemed to like being praised as she grinned again.

"Oh, am I? Ehehehe…"

That Zuikaku was flustered didn't surprise Shoukaku much, but she noticed Ohtori was more or less the same. It was easy for her to put the pieces together and find out why.

"Come," she whispered, "let us take a seat."

Ohtori let himself be led to the shrine's steps and be seated; he swore Shoukaku flashed him a meaningful smile as she told Zuikaku to sit beside him, to which she complied without much thought.

"Ah, so your father's a Navy officer, and you just moved here," Zuikaku said after Ohtori told a bit about himself as she asked.

"Yeah. Um…And you two…?"

"Hmm…I don't know if you know, but we are KANSENs," Shoukaku replied; Ohtori was quite relieved to see that she had not misinterpreted his curiosity as degrading. He certainly didn't expect them to be KANSENs, though he was familiar with them because he often saw some at the port. They were all unusual—some sport animal-like characteristics, others oni-like horns. The two, however, on top of looking very young, didn't possess those traits, save for the odd hues of their hair and eyes.

"I see. Well, it's not like it's my first time seeing KANSENs, but I've never talked to any of them. I guess that makes you guys the firsts?"

"We are? I think you're the first human outside the port we talked to!" Zuikaku exclaimed, looking happier than ever as she laughed. Ohtori couldn't keep himself from laughing along, and Shoukaku even joined in, though she only allowed herself a giggle.

"Oh my, such an interesting turn of events," Shoukaku remarked. "Maybe it's destiny."

"Geez, Shoukaku-nee, you sound like an old woman again!" Zuikaku continued to laugh. Shoukaku was unfazed by the teasing, save for some color on her cheeks.

"That would mean I'm wise, wouldn't it?"

"Of course you are, Shoukaku-nee!"

While Zuikaku, unsurprisingly, praised her sister so readily, Ohtori thought about what Shoukaku had just said.

Destiny. Perhaps it was. After all, he could not think of any other reason he already felt some sort of companionship with the two, even within such a short time. It was something he realized he'd been looking for before.

"It's getting late," Shoukaku said when she looked up at the sky. Nothing there would indicate that it was, but Ohtori felt inclined to believe her.

"Then I should head home," he said, standing up. "Can we meet again? Maybe here?"

"Of course!" Zuikaku sprang to her feet as she answered. "Let's talk about more things and do stuff!"

"Like a spar," Shoukaku said as she followed suit, only with more grace.

"Argh! No, no more spar, alright?" Ohtori moaned, touching his forehead as it ached once again as if a warning.

"As the old saying goes, you haven't truly known someone until you cross swords with them, you see?"

"No, thanks; I'd rather hear you play your flute. I think that'd be less dangerous. Plus, it sounds nice."

Shoukaku blinked. When Ohtori looked back at her, she was smiling. Only this time, he could actually understand it. She's happy.

"If you put it that way…then I see no reason to decline. But you better be here."

"Of course, duh."

"Then it's a promise!" Out of nowhere, Zuikaku got hold of Ohtori's hand and linked her little finger with his.

"Ye-yes!"

Shoukaku shook her head as she moved closer and did the same. Though he looked bewildered at first, he eventually smiled at her all the same, promising he would be there and they would meet again.

It was a strangely pleasant, sweet feeling.