"So this is what it's like to eat here."
Ryusei nodded as he picked up a pair of chopsticks and ate several slices of sashimi and savored some marinated vegetables.
Reimu on the other hand, loaded her plate and bowl with grilled fish, rice, pickled vegetables and tofu with lightning speed before devouring the food in an equal amount of time. She then repeated the same process with the sashimi, marinated vegetables, and all the other food Ryusei had ordered for the two of them.
"How often do you go out to eat?" asked Ryusei. He ordered another round of rice and grilled meat and took his time with eating each dish.
"Mwoft offen," replied Reimu with her mouth full.
"Uh, swallow first."
"Not often," clarified Reimu. "Sometimes Mystia shows up with her lamprey stand though the style is nowhere as close to this. Maybe a few times at the human village, but the food isn't served like this."
Ryusei ordered another round before trying to start a conversation. "So tell me about one of the incidents you've solved in Gensokyo."
Reimu swallowed again before thinking of one. "Well there was a time Gensokyo got covered in a scarlet mist that was so thick it blotted out the sun. This wasn't good for the farmers or anyone since they could barely see anything and as long as that mist was out, then every human at the human village was at risk of being ambushed by youkai that they couldn't see."
Ryusei ordered another round before telling her to continue her story. By the time she had finished, Ryusei was getting worried about the bill. Even though Mordecai had given him quite a bit of money, it might not be enough to cover the rest of the trip. Mentally, he made a note to never eat at a restaurant with Reimu again unless he brought a year's worth of salary.
"And a few days later, we had a party at my shrine where she provided most of the food," interrupted Reimu. "Tell me, have you ever provided food for a party?"
Ryusei smiled and began telling her about the time he and Mordecai went on a mission together right before the Adventurer's Guild Christmas Eve party. They were both given the task of providing cranberry sauce which they were supposed to pick up on their way back from the journey but had forgotten. Luckily, Mordecai's kids Alex and Vicktor had picked up several baskets of cranberries so they could've made it on the spot. However, neither of them knew how to make cranberry sauce so they pummeled a basket's worth of cranberries before some sympathetic carolers gave them directions to the nearest grocery store.
"Oh my gosh! You and Mordecai greeted some singers with cranberry juice and skins all over your hands, a hammer and your clothes? They must have been terrified," laughed Reimu.
Once they had finished eating, they had ordered a grand total of 100 rounds since Reimu kept devouring everything before he could finish a dish. After ordering dessert, he checked the bill which caused his eyes to become as wide as plates. Had it not been for Reimu in front of him, he could've sworn that he had just paid for someone's birthday party instead of a small sit down lunch at the restaurant. Luckily, Ryusei still had a lot of money even after paying for this so all he had to worry about was where to not take Reimu after this.
"Oh hey! Is that an izakaya? Mind if I order?"
And an izakaya was definitely on the list. As fun as it would be to see how Reimu would act when drunk, he had a feeling that he would end up having to pay for a ton of damage by the time she was done with her second bottle. No wait, scratch that, she shouldn't be drinking at all. The legal drinking age was 20 or 21 depending on the place and both of them were clearly below that.
"Um Reimu," addressed the samurai. "I'm not sure what the legal drinking age in Gensokyo is but in the outside world, it's 20 or 21 depending on where you're from. So maybe another time."
Reimu gave him a small pout but nodded in understanding. Her mood quickly changed upon seeing a group of people lining outside one of the hotel's rooms reserved for events.
"Oh! What's that?" asked the shrine maiden excitedly.
"That's a calligraphy class," informed Ryusei nonchalantly. "This one in particular is for guests and tourists and teaches them how to write basic kanji."
He looked at Reimu who, to his surprise, looked at the place with excitement. For him, calligraphy was boring and mundane. While he practiced it every so often, there was really little to no practical use for it so it was interesting to see someone get excited over a writing class. Facing Reimu again, there was a certain glint in her eyes that he simply could not say no to.
"Okay, since we are trying to blend in, we could take a look at the class."
Reimu silently cheered while both he and Reimu joined the group of tourists waiting outside the hotel room.
Nearly 10 minutes later, the doors opened and Ryusei and Reimu were greeted by a gentle-faced woman that bowed to them.
"Welcome. I am Miyu Nagare and I will be your calligraphy instructor. Today, we'll be focusing on basic strokes and forming simple characters."
Ryusei and Reimu followed the other students and took a seat at an empty table. Once everyone was seated, Miyu led them through a series of exercises, demonstrating each movement with fluid grace. Ryusei watched intently, his brow furrowed in concentration. Calligraphy lessons from his childhood seemed a distant memory. The graceful movements he'd witnessed from the instructor felt like a forgotten language. Hesitantly, he dipped his brush in the inkwell and attempted his first character.
The result wasn't disastrous, but it wasn't ideal either. The lines were a bit thick, and more importantly, the overall shape lacked the distinctness that separated similar characters. Ryusei squinted at his attempt, unsure if it resembled "water" (水) or "mountain" (山).
"This brush is very different from my symbolizer," thought Ryusei. The odd looking red paintbrush with a square cross emblem attached to the top of the handle was a lot easier to use and write with for him. Part of this had to do with the fact that the brush made larger and thicker strokes that were easier to see and read. Also, he didn't need to be precise when using it.
In comparison, the ordinary brush in front of him was meant for smaller, thinner strokes that he hadn't made ever since he had finished school many years ago. If any of his classmates could see him right now, they'd be puzzled and confused over his writing.
Reimu on the other hand, mirrored the instructor's movements with surprising ease. Her brush danced across the paper, leaving behind clear, well-defined characters. Each stroke was precise, and the characters were undeniably beautiful.
After Ryusei's second attempt of writing a single sentence ended in failure, Miyu stepped in, offering guidance.
"Ryusei-san," she said kindly, "your strokes are good, but focus on differentiating the shapes. Remember, a small shift in line placement can change the entire meaning of a character."
Ryusei nodded, frustration gnawing at him. He diligently practiced, but his attempts still lacked the crispness of Reimu's. Reimu, glancing at his struggles, tilted her head in innocent curiosity. She then wrote a note and threw it across the room to him when the teacher wasn't looking.
"Having trouble, samurai? I wouldn't have thought writing would trip you up," read the note.
Ryusei gave her a knowing look and grumbled about being out of practice while a flicker of shame crossed his mind. Here he was, a seasoned adventurer, struggling with a simple brush. Reimu, a shrine maiden who battled fantastical creatures, wielded it like an extension of herself. It was a stark reminder that experience wasn't a cure-all.
As the class progressed, Ryusei's frustration grew. Each character he formed looked suspiciously similar to another. A single misplaced stroke could turn "peace" (安) into "danger" (危). He stole a glance at Reimu, who was now flawlessly inscribing a short poem. Her focus was unwavering, her movements confident.
Seeing this, Ryusei decided to take a small break by glancing around the room and scanning the place for something that could take his mind off his current troubles.
There were various posters advertising events and nearby restaurants, many of which were either too far into the future or costly for either of them to attend. However, one of them caught his eye. It was a simple promotion for the hotel's kimonos. The clothes weren't free but all guests were allowed to try one on and wear it during their stay at the hotel.
From experience, trying on a yukata is pretty fun and a must do activity for tourists. Additionally, the idea of seeing someone as beautiful as Reimu in traditional Japanese clothes was a nice bonus.
Taking a quick glance at their instructor, he quickly inscribed some kanji on a piece of paper which he then threw across the room to Reimu. The note hit his intended target who opened it to read and respond.
Casually glancing around to ensure the instructor wasn't looking, Reimu unfolded the paper with the practiced nonchalance of a seasoned teenage spy. Scrawled across the page in what could only be described as enthusiastic chicken scratch were the words: "The hotel is letting its guest try on kimonos, wanna try one after?" A triumphant grin spread across Ryusei's face as he watched Reimu decipher his message.
However, a mischievous glint flickered in Reimu's eyes. With a playful smirk, she whipped out her own brush and dipped it in ink. Swiftly, she wrote a reply at the bottom of Ryusei's note, mimicking his messy handwriting. Folding the paper in half, she slid it back across the table with a sly wink.
Reimu's response left Ryusei blinking in confusion. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words: "The hotel has a couple's area. We should check it out afterwards?" His face flushed a vibrant crimson, rivaling the red inkwell before him. Had Reimu misread his note entirely, or was she deliberately messing with him?
A stifled snort escaped Reimu's lips as she caught Ryusei's wide-eyed stare. Clearly, her prank had landed. Ryusei, flustered beyond words, could only manage a sputtered, "W-what? No! That's not what I meant!"
The instructor, alerted by the sudden outburst, turned towards them with a raised eyebrow. Reimu, channeling her inner angel, offered an innocent smile. "Nothing at all, Sensei! Ryusei-san was just asking me if I wanted to try some matcha tea after class."
With a suspicious glance at Ryusei's beet-red face, the instructor simply nodded and returned to her demonstration. As the class continued, Ryusei shot Reimu a playful glare that dissolved into a sheepish grin. The misunderstanding may have been hilarious, but it also served as a stark reminder of the consequences of his terrible handwriting. Maybe, just maybe, he should consider some calligraphy practice after all.
As the final strokes of the class poem gracefully flowed from Reimu's brush, a satisfied smile spread across her face. Ryusei, on the other hand, was gathering his scattered supplies, his cheeks still burning from Reimu's playful jab.
"So," Reimu began, amusement dancing in her eyes, "about that 'couple's area'..."
Ryusei choked on a cough, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. "I-it wasn't what you think! My handwriting is just…" he trailed off, gesturing helplessly at the crumpled note.
Reimu chuckled, the sound like wind chimes in the serene classroom. "Alright, alright, I was just teasing. Maybe a little. But seriously, did you really see a poster about the kimono fitting? Maybe we could check it out after this?"
Ryusei's initial embarrassment faded and his flustered face was replaced with a small smile.
"Yep and I was thinking the same thing too."
A triumphant grin lit up Reimu's face. "Perfect! Let's go show them some Hakurei style, shall we?"
They gathered their belongings, the playful energy from their exchange lingering in the air. Stepping out of the calligraphy studio, Ryusei cast a glance at the simple poster advertising the kimono fitting. Perhaps, he thought, this wouldn't be such a bad way to spend the afternoon after all.
"This one! Look, Ryusei, isn't the pattern gorgeous? It has cherry blossoms and swirling clouds!" Her voice echoed with childlike enthusiasm.
Ryusei stood awkwardly beside her, his fingers instinctively brushing the bag that contained his black and red jiu jitsu gi. He wasn't opposed to wearing a kimono, but such elegant clothes weren't exactly something he'd want to fight in.
"It's uh… pretty I guess," he mumbled, his tone lacking conviction. He scanned the room for a sign that might offer an escape route, but there was none.
An elderly woman with a gentle smile approached them. "Welcome! Are you interested in trying on a kimono?"
Reimu, practically vibrating with excitement, nudged Ryusei. "Yes, please! We'd both like to try some on."
The woman's smile widened. "Wonderful! First, I need to take your measurements." She expertly measured Reimu, her nimble fingers flitting across Reimu's slender frame. As she turned to Ryusei, her eyes crinkled with amusement.
"And for the gentleman? Perhaps a hakama instead?"
Ryusei hesitated for a moment. A hakama, traditional samurai trousers often worn with kimonos, still gave him a full range of movement but he wasn't exactly too fond of wearing one either. Everytime he wore or saw one, he was reminded of a less favorable time at the Church Ryu he had been trained and raised in. Still, he didn't want to disappoint Reimu and in his opinion, a hakama was better than a full kimono.
"Actually, a hakama would be great, if that's alright," Ryusei finally responded.
The woman beamed. "Of course! We have a lovely selection. Would you prefer something bold or more subdued?"
Ryusei glanced at the vibrant displays, then thought of the black and red colors of his gi. "Subdued," he answered definitively. "Maybe a dark gray?"
The woman chuckled knowingly.
"An excellent choice for her samurai, wouldn't you say?"
A slight tinge of pink appeared on Ryusei's cheek while she disappeared behind a curtain and returned with a simple yet elegant hakama in a charcoal gray. The wide-legged trousers flowed around his legs, offering a surprising range of movement.
Reimu, meanwhile, had her own selection underway. She emerged from behind a shimmering curtain, adorned in a breathtaking pale pink kimono. Delicate embroidery of swirling clouds and cherry blossoms danced across the fabric, mirroring the vibrant motif on the rack she'd admired earlier. The light colors complemented her red tube locks perfectly.
Ryusei couldn't help but stare, momentarily speechless. Reimu looked like a celestial being, a vision from the fantastical world she protected. "Wow," he breathed, a genuine smile gracing his lips.
Reimu twirled, the fabric swirling around her like a mystical whirlwind. "Do you like it?" she asked.
Ryusei nodded.
"It really suits you. You look like a princess or goddess in that outfit."
The woman bustled around them, helping them dress in their respective garments. As Ryusei adjusted the hakama, the unfamiliar fabric felt surprisingly comfortable. He looked down at his reflection in the ornate mirror. The dark gray, devoid of ornamentation, felt like a natural extension of his gi. It wasn't ostentatious, but it held a quiet dignity that resonated with him.
Reimu, catching his gaze in the mirror, tilted her head in amusement. "What do you think, samurai? Does the hakama make you feel more prepared to battle mythical creatures?"
Ryusei chuckled. "Maybe not mythical creatures, but I wouldn't mind doing a training session in this." He gestured to the hakama. "Thanks, Reimu."
Reimu beamed. "Of course!"
Once they had finished their selection, a new energy crackled in the air as Reimu and her vibrant kimono practically skipped ahead of Ryusei in the muted tones of the hallway. He followed with a smile, his dark gray hakama swishing softly with each step.
As they joined another group of tourists waiting at the bus office, Ryusei mentally calculated the expenses and estimated the time that he and Reimu might spend on this trip. Depending on how much more time they spent, he might have to ask Mordecai for another loan.
Suddenly, a rhythmic clang echoed through the air, drawing their attention towards a large, open room. Inside, two figures clad in white armor dueled beneath the watchful gaze of a crowd. As they got closer, Ryusei's eyes narrowed, his posture straightening unconsciously.
"Wow," Reimu whispered, her eyes wide with fascination. "Is this a kendo match?"
Ryusei chuckled with a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Actually, Reimu, that's kenjutsu," corrected the samurai. "Kendo uses different swords and techniques."
Reimu blinked, her curiosity piqued. "Kenjutsu? What's that?"
Ryusei stopped, his gaze lingering on the duelists. Here, in this foreign land, the art form felt strangely familiar, a comforting reminder of his past training.
"Kenjutsu," he explained, "is a Japanese swordsmanship style that focuses on using the katana as a weapon. It's about precision, technique, and respect for one's opponent."
He watched as one of the duelists expertly parried a blow, his movements fluid and controlled.
"Oh, like a magical sword fight?" Reimu's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Can they cast spells with their swords?"
Ryusei shook his head with a smile. "Nope. No magic involved, Reimu. Just pure skill and discipline."
He watched as the match progressed, a sense of admiration building within him. The clash of steel echoed a rhythm ingrained in his memory, a language only a trained warrior could truly understand.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Ryusei murmured, more to himself than to Reimu.
The way the duelists moved, the respect evident in their every action, it was an art form he deeply appreciated. It reminded him of all the late nights he stayed up to perfect this form of sword combat under the watchful gaze of Master Cross, his mentor and most trusted friend.
During those nights, Cross would occasionally join him in a practice match and show off some of his own skills. Other times, he would give him additional tips and show him some secret techniques to better use and perfect his style of combat. Sometimes, the two would pause his training to talk over a midnight snack in the form of a recently hunted deer or boar over a slow roasting fire.
"Those were the times," sighed Ryusei internally.
Reimu followed his gaze, her initial curiosity morphing into something deeper. Though different and more intimate than the spell-card battles of Gensokyo, this duel held its own captivating charm.
Suddenly, a booming voice announced the end of the match, the victor receiving a respectful bow from his opponent. The crowd erupted in applause, their energy infectious. Reimu, her eyes gleaming, nudged Ryusei's arm.
"That was amazing! So this is the fighting style you and Youmu were learning and trained to do all this time right?"
"One of them. Kenjutsu is not my only form of combat," answered Ryusei.
"You'll totally win in one of those duels, right?" asked Reimu.
"Perhaps," pondered Ryusei. "I haven't fought in a tournament for well, ever since I got banned at the age of 11."
Reimu gave him a puzzled look.
"I'll tell you about it later," informed Ryusei. "Besides, even though I have been trained in kenjutsu, my school never held any tournament in particular for it. We were always encouraged to branch out and mix in other arts and our own techniques."
"I see, so you might get disqualified part way through," commented Reimu with understanding.
Ryusei nodded as an idea sparked in his mind. This unexpected encounter with kenjutsu re-ignited a dormant ember that he hadn't felt in years. Maybe, just maybe, there would be an opportunity to participate and show off, not just kenjutsu but all his other skills with a sword in a friendly and non-threatening way.
"Actually," he said, turning towards Reimu, "why don't we find out if they offer any demonstrations for tourists? Maybe you can even get a few lessons of your own."
"Definitely! I can even show Youmu what I've learned when I get back," she declared. "Let's go find out!"
"No need, miss. These guys will be hosting a tournament in an art festival tomorrow night," informed a spectator dressed in a western summer outfit. In spite of his foreign looking clothes, Ryusei could tell that he was native to this area by the sound of his voice which did not carry the same accent that was commonly heard amongst tourists and travelers.
"Really?" asked Ryusei. "What sword technique will be allowed?"
"Any as long as it doesn't involve something dirty like throwing your sword at the opponent or using a ranged weapon like a gun," answered the man. "If you don't like swords, they've got judo, sumo, and karate for hand to hand and Kyūdō if you prefer bows."
"So it's combat themed?" asked Reimu.
"No actually. Those are just a few of the many arts they will be showing," chuckled the man. "There's the standard painting and music shows as well but there will also be dances like the ondo and whatnot."
Ryusei took a quick glance at Reimu and the bus times being offered by the office. The earliest trip they could get was about two days from now. He knew that Reimu would be disappointed if they skipped the festival.
"Alright. We'll check it out. We've got time," replied the samurai.
"Great! Hope to see you there!"
With that, the traveler left, leaving Ryusei wondering what he just got himself into.
As the last embers of twilight faded, casting the garden in a cool, peaceful darkness, Ryusei and Reimu emerged onto the path leading back towards the hotel. The gentle chirping of crickets had become the dominant sound, punctuated by the occasional croak of a frog.
"That was lovely," Reimu sighed contentedly, her voice hushed. "I feel so relaxed."
"Me too," Ryusei agreed, a smile playing on his lips. "The garden truly has a way of calming the soul."
They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the day's experiences replaying in their minds. Reimu glanced at her watch, a sudden realization sparking in her eyes.
"Oh! Almost forgot," she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "There's a tea ceremony happening at the hotel tonight! Remember, the one we saw advertised in the lobby?"
Ryusei chuckled, the memory jogging his own. "Ah, right. Didn't we see something about it offering a chance to experience a traditional tea ceremony for guests?"
"Exactly!" Reimu's face lit up with excitement. "It starts in, like, half an hour. We should check it out!"
A flicker of amusement crossed Ryusei's face. Reimu's enthusiasm was infectious. "Alright, alright," he conceded. "Let's give it a try. Perhaps it can offer a different kind of serenity from the garden."
Reimu beamed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Great! Let's hurry then, before all the spots are taken!"
With that, Ryusei allowed the excited shrine maiden to drag him back inside the hotel where they managed to grab the last two spots for the ceremony.
Moments later, the air hung heavy with the scent of green tea and incense as Ryusei and Reimu entered the dimly lit room. Reimu, her eyes wide with curiosity, straightened her posture slightly, a whisper escaping her lips, "This looks familiar."
Ryusei nodded and secretly passed her a note which she opened when no one was looking.
"This is my first time participating in an official one. I might not be the best person to look up to for this experience."
Reimu nodded with understanding before crumpling and hiding the note inside her kimono. As the ceremony went on, a serene woman, dressed in a simple kimono, greeted them with a gentle bow.
As it began, Reimu found herself subconsciously mimicking some of the host's graceful movements, her body language reflecting respect for the ritual. The burning incense and smell of tea reminded her of home.
Ryusei, on the other hand, remained observant and watched intently. He didn't have the same ingrained movements as Reimu, but his focus and quiet respect for the ceremony were evident. Internally, he marveled at the precision and elegance of the host's actions. While he didn't mind the tea's fragrance, he disliked the smell of the incense which reminded him of a less pleasing time in his youth.
Once the ceremony concluded, the host offered them a chance to sample the tea. As they sipped the delicate beverage, Reimu leaned towards Ryusei, "This feels different from the tea ceremonies at the shrine, doesn't it?"
Ryusei nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed. The movements seem more… deliberate here."
He paused, considering his words. "But the sense of respect and tranquility remains the same."
The two continued to sip their beverages until the host informed them that they were out of tea, signaling that it was time for them to leave. Just as they were about to head into the elevator, the two were stopped by the hotel manager.
"Excuse me but by chance, are you Ryusei?" asked the manager. She had an apologetic look on her face that the samurai knew was not good.
"Yes. This is him," answered Ryusei.
"I regret to inform you that there was an accident in the room above you. Their bathroom flooded and much of the water leaked into the room we reserved for you," informed the lady. "We don't have any spare rooms at the moment so either you share the room with the young lady here or find a new reservation. Your money will be refunded either way."
"Ah," commented Ryusei. "Are you sure there aren't any rooms left? I thought I saw a few people checking out moments ago."
"They did but someone else has already booked them and will be coming in about five minutes," answered the manager. "We won't have any more available rooms until the morning."
"I see, well in that case," commented Ryusei. He turned to the shrine maiden. "The choice is yours, Reimu."
"Ahh. uhhh," thought Reimu out loud. Even though she was uncomfortable with sleeping with a boy, she also didn't like the idea of Ryusei having to wander the streets of Japan just to find a place to stay for the night. She also wasn't quite ready to trust him either. Regardless, she couldn't risk losing her only guide in the outside world.
"I'm fine with it," answered Reimu.
The manager smiled and handed Ryusei a spare keycard for Reimu's room. Within a few moments, Ryusei and Reimu had gotten themselves situated with Ryusei opting to sleep on a chair and a distance that Reimu herself deemed comfortable with her. In this case, that was near the door, their main exit.
"Reimu, if you're really uncomfortable, then I can just stay outside," informed Ryusei. He knew Reimu didn't really trust him just yet. That being said, it wasn't like he completely trusted her either so it was fair.
"Not happening," answered Reimu. "Even though I don't want to share the room with a guy, I'm not that cruel."
Ryusei sighed and sat in the chair while Reimu curled herself up in the blankets and slept.
"Well, at least it's not as bad as the time I had to sleep on top of a bookshelf," thought Ryusei.
As he began to nod off, Reimu secretly got out of the bed and put a blanket over him with her cheeks flushing a brilliant red.
"Sometimes, I wish I never met that guy," commented Reimu. "I guess I'll apologize to him tomorrow morning and tell him of that incident. Maybe he'll understand."