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Fire in the Mountains [Aug. 28th, 2017|09:57 pm]
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[yuuhi_kurenai]
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[User Picture]From: [info]shiranui_genma
2017-08-29 03:51 am (UTC)

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It hadn’t been that long since Genma’d been a child at a festival, plucking balloons like this, while his father paid the vendor. How had he forgotten the rules? Somehow the war had put a wall between that happy past and the man he was today. He shrugged, sliding back into Gendou’s memories instead. “It’s been a few years since I played this.” He fished for a fresh string, and this time pulled out a green and white balloon. A third try netted him the prize blue one that had eluded him before, but the unlucky fourth balloon slipped away.

The little girl was still watching him. She didn’t seem to have a parent with her. He glanced at his wife, then turned to the girl. “Shall I give you one?”

She ducked her head, suddenly shy.

“Which color? Maybe the white one? It matches your obi.”

She still didn’t speak, but when Gendou put the white balloon in her hands, she grinned, and cradled it like a doll.

Rie wrapped up her conversation while Gendou handed the vendor back the chopsticks, and looked down at the girl. “Where’s your mama?”

The girl pointed at another stall.

“Go show her your balloon, Mika-chan,” the vendor said. When she scampered off, the man said, “Thank you. Her father hasn’t been well.”

Which meant the family didn’t have a lot to spare for games, Genma translated.

“I was going to give her a free chance, when there were fewer customers around,” the vendor confided. “Where did you say you were from?”

For a second, Genma’s mind went blank. Raidou, bless him, rattled off the name of the tiny village Kurenai had given them as a backstory.

“Can’t say as I know that one,” the vendor said. “South, is it?”

“South,” Gendou confirmed.

Rie offered just enough additional details to make their home village, Shinotsu, sound both charming and entirely dull.

“Maybe you don’t know about the tanuki, then,” the vendor said. “There’s a great tanuki spirit who protects this mountain and all the villages on it.” He paused to take some coins from a group of young girls in bright yukata, and hand them each a set of the treacherous chopsticks.

Gendou nodded. “And the buns?”

“The buns are for good luck and a good harvest,” the vendor said. “Make sure you throw a few tonight. Maybe Tanuki-san will come down the mountain to visit your fields and bring a blessing.”

A clanging bell at another stall let the fair-goers know someone had won a prize.

“We’d better go make sure our kids haven’t set anything on fire,” Rie said. She swung her balloons from their strings with one hand, and slipped her other arm through Gendou’s again.

“They’ll be begging for taiyaki,” Gendou said.

You’re the one who wants taiyaki,” countered Rie.

“And you’re the one who will buy me some,” Gendou said. He grinned at her. “Let’s go then. We can check with Mother and see if she wants some, too, on the way.”

“It’s your neck at risk if you interrupt her gossip.” Rie shrugged amiably.

“True. We can always get her some without asking. If she doesn’t want them, I’m sure the kids will take care of any extras.”

They ambled through the crowd, through clouds of smoke drifting from a yakitori stand, and the sticky-sweet smell of a candy vendor’s stall. It was nice. Easy, even, to stroll arm-in-arm as Gendou and Rie. Maybe this was what Kurenai and Aoba liked about Intel work — the chance to, once in a great while, pretend to be someone with a simpler life.