For a couple of days the newly formed five traveled without any incident more serious than the fighting between Reiko and their newly acquired companion. There was no sign of further pursuit. Whether it was simple luck or Jiro’s self-avowed skills at stealth and escape had yet to be seen.

One morning as they broke camp, Kagami delved into her satchel for their morning’s fare and a map. Chewing on a piece of bread, she unrolled the latter across her lap. “According to this,” she said, “we’re almost near another town. Should we take the extra time to circumvent it, or risk passing through?”

“Pass through,” said Ayame, brushing her hair. “It’s high time we saw something more sophisticated than a squirrel, and besides, we’re almost out of food.” As if to add credence to the statement, her stomach grumbled.

“I hope you have a plan for how we’re going to pay for it,” said Shizuka, “because your last attempt was a dismal failure, as our current situation proves.”

“What?... Last attempt?...” Jiro waved a hand at the two as they started to glare at each other. “Anyone want to enlighten me here?”

After a moment, Shizuka turned to look at him. “The reason those guards we escaped from caught us in the first place is because Ayame tried to pay for a snack with money from home and the disagreement over it caught their attention-”

“Hey, how the heck was I supposed to know he wouldn’t take it!?” Ayame said defensively. “I’ve seen them take foreign money in Tokyo-”

“Yes, but you can’t expect them to do that here! It’s not just another country, it’s another world! And we-” she stabbed the air between them with each word- “don’t- have- any- Taran- money!” Ayame just stood there, sputtering, unable to respond. After all, when it came down to it Shizuka was right.

Reiko leaned over and muttered to Kagami, “Man, ever since our escape, she seems to have taken out a new lease or something.”

“I know. I can’t remember her ever being so consistently assertive.”

“No money?” Jiro stared, aghast. “What do you mean, no money?” His gaze shifted over all four of them. “What’ve you got in those heads of yours, hay? When you decided to get outta there, how did you expect to pay for anything once you used up what you brought? You bunch of- of- stupid donces!”

“Donces?...” Shizuka’s face screwed up in puzzlement at the new term.

Reiko stood. “Sounds like we’ve been insulted.”

“And you’re saying you don’t deserve it? This’s one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard anyone do!”

“And what were we supposed to do? Rob the people who’d been hosting us for all the time we’d been here? We came through that gate in their house, caused enough trouble as it was- were we supposed to repay them by taking money from them? Uh-uh.” She shook her head vigorously. “We don’t work that way. And when you sneak out you sure as heck don’t ask for a loan before you go.”

Jiro’s gaze dropped to the ground. Hands in his pockets, he shuffled back and forth, shifting the fallen leaves beneath his boots. His ears were almost as bright a red as his hair. “Well- uh-” When he brought his head up, he refused to quite meet her eyes. There was still a faint redness to his complexion. “Right- uh, I mean, you’ve got to find a way to get you some. I sure can’t cover everyone.” His bravado returned. “You should’ve thought of that. Aren’t you glad you’ve got me here to bail you out of all the trouble you get yourselves into?”

“We can bail ourselves out, thank you very much-”

“That’s enough, you two.” Kagami carefully placed herself between the two combatants, secure in the knowledge that neither would attack the other with her in the middle. “Why don’t we just get going for the moment? Perhaps as we’re walking we can figure something out.”

Wheels squeaked faintly, backed by the creak of sideboards as the cart rolled along. Not only did it rock back and forth like a boat on a choppy sea, but it bounced and jerked in and out of what seemed to be every groove and hole in the packed dirt beneath them. Kagami leaned back against the boards, one arm draped over the side, the other across her lap. “If this thing jounces one more time....”

“Don’t think about it.” Reiko flopped out on her back in the hay, watching the clouds. “That’s how I got used to it.”

“Sorry, but I just can’t get used to the sensation that I’m about to fly over the edge every time we go in and out of another rut.”

“Well, I still don’t regret accepting the ride. Beats walking.”

“Yeah, according to Mr. Farmer up there-” Ayame gestured with her thumb- “we’d’ve had to walk all day to get to this town. I just hope we get a better reception than we did last time.”

“And I hope we’re able to find a place where I can have a bath.” Shizuka shuddered. “I feel horrible.”

“Sit tight, y’all!” The farmer’s voice called from the front of the cart. “Th’ town’s almost nigh! We should be there in two shakes of a cow’s tail!”

Sure enough, in a matter of minutes the town rolled- or rather, bounced and swayed- into view. It proved to be larger and more bustling than Hogback. Granted, this wasn’t a difficult feat. Ayame leaned forward, clutching the edge of the sideboard. “Finally, something a little closer to civilization!”

Kagami shaded her eyes, squinting. “Nominally so....”

“So long as I can sleep for a night without wondering if I’ll wake up the next morning with a bear licking my head, I’ll be good.” Reiko looped an arm through her backpack strap.

“Ooo, the spitfire’s afraid of bears, then?” Jiro’s smile widened.

Reiko snorted. “Course not. I just know someone who that happened to on a camp-out, that’s all.”

Shizuka gasped, hand over her mouth. “You never told us this story! Whatever happened? Were they-”

“They just lay very still and eventually it went away. But it’s an experience I’ll pass on. I prefer not to have to wash bear spit out of my hair.” A group shudder of distaste circled the cart-passengers, Jiro included.

With one last bounce and shudder, their rustic conveyance came to a halt. “This’s where I’ll be leaving y’all off, then!” The farmer dismounted from his perch at the front of the cart. “I’d take y’all further in, but this’s nearer the market.”

“We can hoof it.” Jiro vaulted over the wall of the cart. Reiko, not to be outdone, immediately did the same. Ayame hopped lightly off the end.

Kagami and Shizuka took the more demure option of stepping down onto a stair improvised by an upturned box, lent a hand in dismount by the farmer. “Do we owe you anything for your trouble?” the former asked.

“Nah.” The stalk of wheat sticking out of his mouth swayed as he talked. “I offered, din’t I? I like to help young people in a pinch. An’ no offense meant, but y’all look to be fair done in.” A callused hand indicated their few bags and the clothes that were starting to show the marks of several days of camping along the road.

“That’s a relief,” said Ayame, “because we- ow!” She cut off as Shizuka gave her a sharp nudge in the ribs. “Never mind!” she added brightly. “Thanks for the lift!” Then, with a cheery wave, she set a random course into the village.

“Don’t go announcing we don’t have any money!” Shizuka hissed.

“Isn’t it safer than announcing it if we did? Robbers don’t pick on people who don’t have anything.”

“Well, yes, but still....”

Kagami rubbed her lower back. “I don’t know if I’m meant for this life of adventure. It’s entirely too uncomfortable. Not to mention unpredictable.”

Their unusual attire made them distinctive, garnering not a few second glances as they wandered along the street. “Now I know what the animals at the zoo feel like,” Reiko muttered. “I feel like there should be a sign around my neck that says ‘Do not feed the martial artist’ or something.”

Jiro snickered. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. You’d probably bite their hands off as soon as they tried!”

“You idiot, I’m not that hungry.” Her stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. “Okay, so I’m pretty darn hungry, but-”

“That ain’t what I meant, Bright Eyes.”

“Don’t think you’re in any danger, Flame Brain. I have better taste than that. Though I guess you wouldn’t know-”

“You seem to try to bite my head off often enough.”

“It’s not for a meal, I assure you!”

“Come on, that’s enough, both of you.” Kagami shifted herself into place between the two of them. She had discovered that the best way to prevent out-and-out combat was to put a physical barrier- namely, herself- in the way. “We need to decide what we’re going to do first, now that we’re here.”

“I want something to eat,” Jiro said, sniffing the air. “I just got a whiff of hot meat pies that smell outta this world.” He followed the scent, still sniffing. “While there, we’ll see if you can find some work for yourselves.” He grinned. “Why don’t you try being a barmaid, eh, spitfire?”

A snort of derision. “I don’t think so.”

“Good call. You’d probably chase off all the customers, anyway.”

“Better than starting fights everywhere I go, the way you do.”

“Hey, we’ve been on the road since I met you lot, and you’re the only people you’ve seen me with!”

“Exactly!”

“Hem, hem.” They looked up to realize not only had they had reached Jiro’s destination, but they had been standing in front of the booth arguing. The vendor cleared his throat again to make sure he had their attention, broad black mustache quivering. “Can I help any of you?” His expression lightened when he saw the three other girls assembled behind the bickering pair.

“Oh, yeah.” Jiro rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Gimmie three of your biggest pies- make sure they’re hot ones! And a mug of ale.”

“And can I get anything for your... lady friends?” His expression plainly said that if Jiro didn’t buy a handsome repast for each of the girls accompanying him, then he was a worthless cheapskate who had no business appearing in public at all.

“Uh...” Jiro’s mouth worked for a minute. “Uh... yeah... uh... what’ll it be, girls?” He tugged around his collar.

Kagami quickly said, “Nothing for me, thank you.” Ayame started to open her mouth, only to get a nudge from Kagami on one side and Shizuka on the other, and changed whatever she had been about to say to, “Maybe later.”

Shizuka shook her head. “Oh, I’m really not hungry-” Then a gastric rumble loud enough to garner a look from a passing farmwife echoed from her midsection. A rosy flush colored her features.

The vendor was already bundling some sort of pastry into a brown paper wrapping. “Here you go, missy,” he said.

“Oh, no, I really mustn’t-” she slanted a look at their male companion, remembering his previous statement that he was low on funds.

“I insist. It’s on the house,” he said. “One for each of you, in fact.”

“Oh.... Well, all right, then....” She reluctantly accepted the food, hesitating a moment before biting. Her eyes widened at the flavor. “Oh, this is delicious!...”

“Thank you kindly, missy. I make only the best, with the best ingredients.” The vendor finished passing out the girls’ complimentary repast and then got to work packaging up Jiro’s order. He gave their curious clothes a closer examination. “So, you a dancer or something?”

Shizuka looked at him in surprise. “Yes! How did you guess?”

“Well, there’s only two kinds of women who go around in skirts that short, and those are dancers and-” Jiro abruptly lapsed into a coughing fit, effectively cutting him off. He passed the boy an ale mug. “Easy there, young man!”

“What’s the other kind?” said Ayame, eyes glimmering with mischief. As soon as the man opened his mouth, Jiro started coughing again.

He shrugged, then looked to Kagami. “Are you one, too?”

She choked on her pastry. “What, a dancer? Oh, of course not! I’m-”

“She sings!” Ayame slung a friendly arm around Kagami’s neck, giving her a shake as a signal to just go along with things. “Got a beautiful voice, she does, but she’s really modest about it.”

The vendor nodded. “I understand. You’re all performers, then?”

Jiro snapped his fingers. “That’s it! We just got the start of a group together, don’t you know.” He leaned forward a little, adding, “I’m what you might call the manager.” The word “manager” was accompanied by a conspiratorial wink that invested it with a whole new realm of meaning.

“So you’ve got a dancer and a singer. What else do you do? Never seen costumes like those before.”

“These aren’t our costumes. And as for me, well, I do a little bit of everything.” Ayame struck a little pose, adding a wink of her own.

Shizuka waved towards Reiko. “Yes, and she lends a hand wherever she can, as a sort of assistant.”

Ayame’s look grew even more mischievous. “Yeah, she’s what you’d call our apprentice. She’s still learning all the tricks of the trade.... In the meantime, she takes the money.” There was a pause as the girl pretended to think. “You should just see her outfit, it’s the cutest little skirt and blouse-” Now it was the aqua-haired girl’s turn to choke on her meal. Ayame slapped her between the shoulder blades.

“I also keep anyone who gets out of control in line,” Reiko ground out after she finished coughing, giving Ayame a pointed look to let her know she was being one of the incorrigible ones who needed restrained.

The man nodded vigorously. “I see, I see. How long you going to be in town? Long enough to do a show, I hope.”

“Oh, no, unfortunately not-” Kagami began.

At the same moment, Ayame said, “Yeah, you bet!”

“We haven’t decided yet,” Jiro concluded. “C’mon, girls- we gotta go make plans, I know we’re still kinda new at this, but we gotta get something together-” He babbled semi-coherently, all the while making shoo-ing gestures akin to those used to round up chickens. How he managed to do this without dropping or spilling anything was a mystery.

As the little group hustled down the street, Reiko looking fit to hit someone, the man called out, “Go by the Seven Swans Tavern! He’ll set you up!”

Jiro gave him a grin and a thumbs up. “You got it! Owe you one!”

“Hey.” Reiko grabbed Ayame’s arm. “What d’you think you were telling him about me? Apprentice? Tricks of the trade? Cute little costume?!”

“I had to tell him something. I mean, you’re not a performer-”

“Yeah, and I sure hope to hell the rest of you really are,” Jiro said. “If I’m not mistaken that guy’s telling everyone who walks by about the little group of actors that’ve come to town, and if they don’t get to see something....” He dragged a finger across his throat. “Kkkch!”

Shizuka gave him an affronted look. “What are you talking about?” she said. “I am a dancer! I’ve studied it for years! In fact, I’ve got everything I need in here.” She patted the side of her briefcase. “And Kagami does have a lovely voice.”

“No, really, I’ve heard other people who are much better-” Kagami fidgeted, nervously rubbing the back of her head.

“Nonsense. Why else do you think whatever choir you’re in always tries to get you to do solos? She always tries to get out of it, but she’s got lots of talent,” she added for Jiro’s benefit.

He gave Ayame a sidelong look. “What about you?”

“Some of everything, just like I said!” She did another little pose.

“Like what?”

“Ah.... Well, if someone gets me a feather boa, I could sing ‘Bring On the Men!’” she said, grinning. Reiko slapped a hand over her face with a heartfelt groan. Shizuka paled at the suggestion.

Kagami put a hand on Ayame’s arm. “No.” She shook her head with the slow, measured movement reserved for those low on intelligence or high on alcohol. “Remember what happened the last time you sang that song in public?”

“Yeah! Wasn’t it great?”

“That’s not the word I would choose to describe it....”

“Uh- what happened?” said Jiro.

A brief pause. “You don’t want to know. Trust us on this one.”

“If you say so.... So, where’s that ‘cute little costume’ of yours, Bright Eyes? Can’t be what you’ve got on now, that’s for dang sure.”

Reiko bristled. “And what is wrong with my uniform?”

“Hey, nothing, but it’s not very cute-”

“Think we care about ‘cute’ at the dojo? The most we care about style is getting a color other than white to wear when we get our black belt! Which I’ve done, so don’t start with me, Flame Brain.” She bunched a fist up, waving it.

“Anyway,” said Ayame, “I was talking about your school uniform.”

Reiko stiffened further. “I’m not wearing that ugly old thing.”

“Ugly?” She put on a mock-thoughtful look. “But you look so cute in it, at least, that’s what I’ve heard other people say....”

“Who? Who said I looked cute?” From the look and sound of it, she was more insulted than complimented by the thought.

“Oh, I can’t remember who it was, but they said you really do need to wear skirts more often, you have the legs for it-”

“I don’t care what you say, I’m not putting that thing on-”

“Hey, Bright Eyes,” said Jiro, his face alight with laughter, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were afraid.”

“Afraid?” She whirled, fists up. “I’m not afraid of anything, especially not of some stupid clothes! Where’s that tavern we’re supposed to go to?”

“He pointed that way-” Jiro indicated to the left.

“Right. Afraid? Yeah, sure. I’ll show you. Let’s get going. There’s no time to waste.” She spun on her heel and stalked in the direction of the tavern, leaving the others to trail, wide-eyed at the sudden change, behind her.

“This get-up stinks.” Reiko appeared in the doorway. She wore a Japanese school uniform of the common sailor suit style, a hunter green pleated skirt just skimming her knees accompanied by an ivory middy blouse accented at cuff, collar, and scarf in the same green. Her arms were crossed, and she was looking bloody murder. “I look like a stupid little navy girl.”

Ayame gave her a once-over glance, grinning with mischief. “Aw, c’mon- you look adorable. Glad you followed my advice to wear your karate flats instead of your school shoes and socks. Calls attention to your calves. Now all we need to do is find a way to make that skirt a little shorter....”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“But all we’d need is a few pins. Too bad I don’t have any in my bag.”

“That’s a shocker. You seem to have everything else in there.”

“Hey, Bright Eyes, I didn’t know you had legs!”

She shot Jiro a look. “What did you think I walked around on? Stilts?”

He spread his hands. “Who knew? Though granted, if you let Ayame make that thing any shorter, you’ll probably chase off the crowd.”

“You’re asking for a kick in the head, Flame Brain.”

“In that skirt? Not unless you want me and everyone else to see from here till tomorrow-” Suddenly his eyes bugged out. “Holy buckets!”

The cause of this reaction stood behind Reiko. Shizuka wore a thin-strapped pale pink leotard and matching skirt that fell, light and flowy, halfway to her knees. The ensemble finished with white tights and soft pink slippers with ankle straps. Her violet hair, still damp from its earlier washing, tumbled loose down her back.

By the standards of home, the outfit was conservative. Apparently that wasn’t the case in Trevelyan. Jiro whistled in appreciation.

Shizuka blushed. “It’s just my practice costume. I don’t normally carry any performance-worthy outfits with me. I guess this’ll work after all.”

“It’ll more than work. Doll, if you go around dressed like that, we’ll have to beat ‘em off with a stick!” Reiko snorted at his flattering tone. “Jealous, Bright Eyes?” He smirked in her direction, raising an eyebrow.

“Only in your dreams.”

He shrugged, turning back to Shizuka. “Proud you’re one of our little troupe. Now if we could just work on ol’ spitfire over there....” he added with a cheeky wink. Reiko harrumphed. “Say, where’s our singer?”

“Oh, she’s still getting dressed.”

“I made up a story about lost costumes,” Ayame supplied, “so one of the tavern girls is loaning her something. Now I wish I’d asked for one, too. It’s really cute. We’ll need to buy outfits for ourselves if we keep this up.”

“Keep it up? Why would we do that?” Shizuka said as she practiced.

“We’re getting paid for this, right? So our money problems are over! We just do a show in every town we go through. Instant income. Not to mention free food and rooms while we’re at it. Though we’ll have to work on an act for Reiko here....” She gave her friend a teasing nudge in the ribs with her elbow.

“Humph. I’m not wearing this get-up any more than I have to.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you another one, something even cuter.”

“Not if you want to keep your head where it is.”

Ayame just laughed. “I gotta see what’s holding Kagami up. Shizuka, keep these two from killing each other before showtime.” She ran for the stairs. “Oh, Reiko, at least take off the scarf, okay? It’ll open out the neckline of your shirt. You need to show something in the spirit of things!” Then she disappeared around the corner.

Jiro flopped into a chair, putting his feet up on the table. “Hear that? You’re not allowed to kill me.”

“That only goes so long as you don’t do anything I have to kill you for.”

“Since when have I ever done that?”

“Since the moment you came rocketing out of that doorway and nearly bowled me over for the second time in the same day-”

“Oh-ho, you’re still sore about that? You wouldn’t have escaped if it hadn’t been for me, y’know.”

“And we wouldn’t have needed to escape if it not for you!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” The boy waved a hand dismissively. “So, you gonna lose the scarf, or what? I dunno much about fashion, but I do know you ain’t setting anyone on fire in that outfit. Granted, you probably wouldn’t set anyone on fire in anything else, either.”

She snorted. “As if I would want to.”

“I thought that was what you actress girls were supposed to do; at least, any actress I’ve ever seen who’s been any good-”

“We’re not putting on a hoochie-coo show!”

Raucous laughter rang out. Jiro’s feet slipped off the table; he rocked back and forth, clutching his stomach. By the time he was done he had to stop and catch his breath, swiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “You kill me, Bright Eyes! If it wasn’t such a scary thought, I’d pay to see you have to do one of those!” Then he succumbed to guffaws again.

Reiko stood there, fists at her sides, spluttering for a moment. Then, muttering under her breath, she caught the leg of his chair in the crook of her ankle and tugged. With a thud, Jiro rolled sideways across the floor. All laughter abruptly halted, though a glimpse of a grin still danced around the edge of his visage.

“Come on, you two, you’re not supposed to fight-” Shizuka finally said, but neither of them paid her any mind.

“So you’re spoiling for a brawl, huh, spitfire?” Jiro braced his feet wide apart, elbows tucked in, hands upraised.

“You’re asking for it, Flame Brain!” Her stance was a mirror of his.

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re just asking for this!” In a quick, nimble movement, Jiro leaped forward- but instead of striking, he sailed past her. One hand flickered out, grabbed her scarf, and with a quick tug, pulled it free and away.

One hand reflexively flew up to hold the edges of her blouse together. “You give that back, Flame Brain!” she exploded. Jiro, smirking like a fox in the hen house, darted across the room. Reiko took off in hot pursuit, scattering stray chairs in her wake. “Stay still so I can beat you black and blue!”

“Calm down!” Shizuka in turn pursued both of them, making gestures that normally soothed. “Please, you’re not supposed to make any trouble!”

“Nyah, nyah, nyah!” Jiro jumped up on a table and did a goofy, mocking little dance, sticking his tongue out at her, waving the scarf around. “Here’s my impression of Bright Eyes!” The dance turned into an even more mocking- and all too accurate- parody of the more daring variety of dancing girl.

“Bring your flaming face down here so I can rearrange it for you!”

The next thing Jiro knew, he was tumbling face-first off the tabletop on a one way route to the floor. “Ooof!” Hands grabbed for the scarf. He perversely hung on to the end, too stubborn to relinquish the ill-snatched item. They rolled across the wooden floor, grappling for the scarf between them, madly yelling insults- well, presumably they were insults, it was hard to tell for sure- all the while. Shizuka fluttered in circles around them, vainly trying to get them to stop.

“Oy there, cool it down, you two!” The struggle was abruptly broken off by a meaty hand grabbing Jiro by the scruff of the neck and hauling him upright from where he’d currently been on the upper part of the struggle. The owner of the voice and hand also happened to be the owner of the tavern and inn. He was short and so rotund that his belly preceded him everywhere by a considerable margin. Light from the windows beyond set off a gleam on his bald pate, fringed with graying hair.

He gave the boy a shake before releasing his grip. “Now see here, young man- and you too, young lady,” he added as Reiko scrambled to her feet, scowling and adjusting her blouse- “I’ll have none o’ those shenanigans. This’s an honest establishment, and there’ll be no horsing around in my common room.”

Shizuka cleared her throat. “I’m so sorry about this, Mr. Brawnvore, I tried to get them to calm down, I really did-”

“Sorry, miss, but it’ll take more’n a little thing like you to hold ‘em back when they get as bad as these two look to be. Well, there’ll be no pawing each other in my establishment, no matter if you’re sparkin’ or no.”

“Gah!” A furious reddish-purple washed up Reiko’s neck and face.

“Sparking?...” Jiro croaked. “H-holy Hells!” The boy’s ears gleamed brilliant crimson, the rest of his face quickly following suit.

“But- they were fighting-” Shizuka’s head pivoted between the innkeeper and her discomfited companions, eyes wide.

Mr. Brawnvore thrust his thumbs through his apron loops. “Aw, I can tell there’s more to it than that....” He indicated the scarf dangling from Jiro’s hand. “Sparking and fighting’s a lot closer’n you’d think.... I remember a girl from my youth, she was a fiery one, we’d be shouting one moment and spooning the next....” The portly innkeeper seemed well set on the road towards reminiscence.

“Now hold it just a second there, I just met him a few days ago!” Reiko burst out. “And I sure as heck never-”

“Expected it so soon? Oy, I know how it is. It’s plain to see. Hit you both in a flash.” He gave Jiro a cuff around the head. “Still, it’s your job as a gentleman to hold yourself back in a respectable place like mine.” He shook his own head a little, strolling back the same way he’d come. A gleam of benevolent amusement shone in his small dark eyes. “I’ll be keeping an eye you two, no trying to sneak into each other’s rooms tonight....” Then he was gone.

Reiko’s temper finally detonated. “The nerve of him! How did he- what the- thinking we- give that back!” She irritably snatched at the scarf still suspended from Jiro’s fingers.

Jiro threw his arm up, dancing back a few steps out of reach. “Uh uh uh! Since you’re apparently my lady friend now, don’t you want to give me a little token of your affection?” His typical grin of impudent mischief was back in place, the only visible sign of previous discomposure being a tinge of red still tipping his ears. Now that the shock was wearing off, he seemed to find the misunderstanding funny.

“Affection?! I’m not giving you anything but a kick in the pants! Give- me- that- back!” She lunged, tripped over a fallen chair, and promptly fell on her face.

Jiro whistled a little. “If you’re not more careful with that skirt, you’ll be giving me a bigger view’n I ever wanted.” She grumbled something again, irritably tugging the pleats back down from where they had bunched up under her hips. “Either way, I think I’ll just keep this for a little while.”

Reiko scrabbled at the side of the table, pulling herself upright, still sitting on the floor. She saw him tuck his hands in his pockets, tail of the scarf sticking out of one of them, and saunter away whistling a jaunty tune. It would have been a perfect exit if not for the fact that she stuck out a foot and tripped him along the way.

“A vest is inflammatory if you’re not wearing a blouse under it, like you wanted to do. Although I have to say that knotting the blouse up like that isn’t much better.” Kagami fidgeted with the front of her borrowed shirt, something her friend only now realized she had been doing the entire time. The raised collar fastened with a single button at the base, opening out in a diamond-shaped keyhole beneath. She kept tugging the edges, as though trying to shrink the gap. “I wish I hadn’t agreed to wear this, the cut-out is entirely too large....”

“Nah, there’s nothing wrong with it!” Ayame leaned back against the washstand, heedless of the pitcher and jug now perilously close to her elbows. You can’t see anything really important. You couldn’t have worn the other one she offered, anyway. Not with the shoulders cut out.”

Kagami let out a little sigh. “This is true....” The mark where the crossbow had gouged her shoulder was obvious, not to mention still sensitive on occasion. She currently had a patch over it to keep her shirt from chafing it.

From belowstairs came the sound of raised voices, followed by a loud thump, a pause, and series of increased shouts and more clattering. “Yo, those two are at it again. Shizuka was supposed to keep them from killing each other.”

Kagami sighed and got to her feet, the mid-calf length barmaid’s skirt swishing above her boot tops. “I guess I’d better get down there. Honestly, they’re getting more and more incorrigible every day.”

“Say, why don’t we just let them play it out?” A heavy thud preceded a series of clunks akin the sound of a bowling ball rolling down a staircase, accentuated with a string of loud, albeit indistinct, shouts.

Ayame’s expression took on an aura of impish amusement. “Those two are so thick-headed, they’ll have to beat each other long enough as it is before they figure it out.” The ruckus came to an abrupt halt. After a few seconds’ silence, an exclamation that sounded suspiciously like “Gah!” echoed in the hallway. “Stopping them’ll just make it worse.”

“Make what worse, figure what out?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? They’re totally into each other. They just don’t know it yet. I’m surprised we don’t see real sparks flying around when they get going!”

“I think you’re reading too much into it. As far as I can surmise, people who argue so much don’t usually want to date.”

“On the contrary, it often starts that way.” Ayame thoughtfully gazed out the window between the lattices. “There was this one boy who when I first met him we were just like that, but after we figured it out, ooo, I’m telling you....”

Their ears caught a thud that sounded suspiciously like someone tripping over a large but heretofore unacknowledged object. “Not everyone is like you. As far as I know love doesn’t usually sound like people falling over things.”

Another thump, followed by a yell of outrage. “From what I’ve seen, love often sounds like people falling over things.” Ayame shrugged. “Oh, well. We’ll just watch and see how things go- their fights are fun enough no matter what. Now stop worrying about that neckline. We’ve got a show to do.”

Kagami’s voice soared to the heights of the rafters. This wasn’t the usual tavern singer’s fare. None of the songs she had sung were familiar. And for once those listening didn’t care. There was something about this girl’s singing that spoke to them. They hardly noticed the words, but to all who listened it felt as though she sang to them alone, bringing to mind treasured memories and what was best in life now.

Applause thundered forth as she swept to a close, sinking into a low, gracious curtsy. If she was still uncomfortable with her borrowed costume, there was no visible sign now. Mugs thumped and hoots and whistled called out, asking for more. Eyes downcast, Kagami curtsied again. Jiro came forth from the sidelines, signaling to Reiko (who had since replaced her middy blouse with the tank top she wore under her Karate jacket) to pass around the box they had adopted in lieu of a hat. She sent him a dark little look before starting the thing’s progress. He had yet to correct Mr. Brawnvore’s mistake regarding their connection, and she was stewing over it.

She finished her full circuit of the room just as the applause started to die down. Jiro was happily playing the grand ringmaster, praising Kagami to the skies while declaring she needed to rest her voice, then launching into grandiose praise of Shizuka’s dancing talents. As Reiko resumed her spot by the wall one of the nearby patrons, a slim young man who had kept brushing against her arm all during the performance leaned over. Clearing his throat, he said, “Eh... can I... um... buy you a drink?”

Reiko blinked at him blankly. “Huh?... What?...”

He hemmed again, not quite looking her full in the face. His features took on a hint of a rosy hue. “Uh... I asked if you wanted... um, a drink....” His finger brushed her arm again, and he quickly pulled it back.

“Uh?... Well, I’m not really thirsty, if that’s what you meant.”

The young man shook his head. “Oh. Never mind.” Head down, shoulders drooping a little, he got up and moved further down the bar.

“Hey,” said Ayame, who was standing next to her, “he was trying to pick you up!” She sounded thoroughly amused by the idea.

“He was?...” If Reiko’s shirt had had sleeves, she would have been rolling them up in preparation for battle. “Right. I’ll fix him-” Jaw set, she stalked in the direction of her erstwhile suitor.

Ayame dragged her back. “No you’re not. You asked for it. Wearing a tank top here is-” she grinned, remembering Kagami’s words- “inflammatory. Besides, Shizuka’s about to start.” Sure enough, the little dancer girl had made an entrance, lightly stepping and twirling into a pose in the center of the room. Her appearance, most likely due to the figure-accentuating costume, caused quite a stir.

Shizuka closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths as she grounded herself. She wasn’t entirely sure what the little conglomeration of musicians was going to play, but she knew how to improvise. She was also fully aware that, as Ayame had phrased it before they started, these people weren’t here to see “Swan Lake.”

But in a minute I’ll know exactly what they do want. It was always that way. A flutist began the strains of a ballad. A delicate arm swept in a graceful arc over her head and around again; this time her whole upper body swayed, limber and light as a willow. She took another deep breath, opening her arms out towards her audience as she moved forward- and opened her mind.

Again, this was always how it was. She knew it was a potentially dangerous thing she did. But when she danced, she couldn’t help herself. She opened her mind to her audience, reaching out to them, stretching to touch their deepest hearts, to speak to them and, in some elusive way, allow them to communicate in return. The ballad played on, notes emanating with a touching beauty, reaching higher arcs and slower, more sweeping notes, escalting with emotion. Shizuka swept along with it, spinning and leaping, all the while allowing her heart, her sense of others’ feelings, to guide her in her movements, to reach and connect as far as her empathic sense would allow her.

Then it struck her. The whole room, the whole inn, even the area beyond, radiated sensation. It was wings, white and shining, beating the air, powerful and beautiful and mysterious in that beauty, all undercut by a strange aura of fear and power. Both were strong. A sensation of shift and transition, the wings were invisible one moment, spreading and iridescent the next, as if someone had summoned them forth from the very air. A dizzying reel of impressions swirled through her mind, continually overshadowed by the beat and presence of otherworldly wings.

The force of the sensation nearly tripped her up; luckily she was skilled enough to turn the movement into a low dip and series of twirls. Apparently it went over well, because she got applause for it. She scarcely noticed, caught up in the story she found herself telling through her movements. It was as though the building itself was speaking through her, there was some tale that must be told, and in opening her mind to the souls of her audience, she had also reached a deeper, more powerful soul.

She lost track of just how long she danced; but again, that was more often than not the case. Those who knew her marveled at her ability to lose herself so deeply in the dance that her endurance seemed endless, when elsewhere she tired all too readily. It was all part of the focus, the peculiar aura she centered around herself whenever performing. Ultimately, with one last great leap and a high, sweeping kick, she spun herself to a dramatic halt.

Arms and eyes raised towards the heavens, breath catching, a thin sheen of perspiration beading her face, she froze still as a mannequin. There was a pause, pulsing with energy. Then it sounded as though a dam had burst. If those watching had reacted strongly to Kagami’s performance, that was polite applause in contrast to this deafening burst. She bowed, graceful and elegant as a swan, visage radiant.

Jiro the ringmaster came forward again, taking her hand, leading her a step or two forward. A delighted smile covered his countenance, effectively concealing the somewhat dazed look he had held for most of her performance. “There you have it, gentlemen! I told you she was divine, didn’t I?” A roar of approval all but shook the beams at this pronouncement. “And on that note, we must be ending our show!”

This time the din was one of marked disapproval. Mugs pounded tabletops as the spectators shouted for more. Jiro just laughed. “Sorry, we’d love to oblige you, but we’re only human!”

“You may be, but she’s a bloody angel!” one man shouted.

“Even angels need to sleep sometime! So on this note, we bid you a pleasant evening, and hope you enjoyed watching us as much as we did doing the show. Thank you all, good night, and see you whenever we see you!” With a jaunty wave and one more bow, he led Shizuka out of the performance space. It was quite a while before the takings box finished its circuit through the common room.

Shizuka fell quiet afterwards. She was always tired once the heady emotion of performance faded. Tonight she felt oddly pensive, as well. She knew opening herself as she did was potentially risky, as she never knew what resonances she would pick up during her performance, but she had never been impacted so strongly. And by the building rather than the audience, at that. Why? That’s not usual, and when it’s happened it’s never been this strong. And why, why, was it all wings?

Shizuka paced back and forth in the room she was sharing with Kagami. It was strange, but although she felt physically tired, she was unable to settle to anything. She sat down and immediately wanted to move. When she was moving, it felt as though there was something else she should be doing.

“Whatever has gotten into you?” Kagami finally asked. “You’ve been acting like this all evening, ever since your performance. Speaking of which, what happened there? I’ve never seen you dance like that before.”

“What? What was different about it?” This time a comb found its way into her wandering fingers.

“It- I can’t explain it.” Kagami seemed more discomfited by being unable to explain a phenomenon than anything else. “You radiated... power. That’s really the only way I can phrase it. I also kept getting the sensation that you were surrounded by wings, lots of gleaming white flying things.”

“You sensed it too, then?” The comb tumbled, unheeded, into her lap. “I felt as though they were all around me, not trying to harm, although there was fear there, and power. Lots of power.”

Kagami studied her knees. “I knew there was something strange about this place,” she said quietly. “But I couldn’t place it.”

Shizuka fidgeted. “Wings.... The place is named the Seven Swans, after all. But something came over me, and I don’t understand it.” She jumped to her feet. “I can’t settle down. I’m going out for a walk.”

“Here, take the key. I’m not going anywhere. Just don’t walk too far, you never know what might be out there....”

“All I worry about right now is getting some fresh air to clear my head. I’ll stay in the inn yard. Just go to sleep. I’ll be all right in a bit.” She threw on her pleated skirt over her leotard and slid her feet into her loafers before going outside.

In a matter of minutes she wandered across the inn courtyard, taking deep breaths. Trevelyan’s climate tended towards cooler nights, although perhaps that would change as spring grew into summer. Either way, Shizuka already felt herself settling. She breathed in a few more times, allowing the evening air to clear her head. A breeze kicked up, ruffling her hair. With a little laugh she did a few light, leaping spins, head back, arms raised to the two visible moons, enjoying the sudden sensation of freedom as she twirled, uninhibited, over the plain earth below her feet.

A glimpse of white flashed in the cool blue evening. Shizuka whirled to a halt, catching herself on the edge of the cistern. Wings! It was the same feeling from earlier. She searched for any sign of what had caught her eye so briefly.

Then another flicker broke the darkness, like a moth dancing just beyond a flame’s edge. A ghost?... The white showed itself again. A figure came into focus around it. There, in the little copse of trees on the other side of the well, stood a man. She had no way of telling how old he was, but he was all dark; ebony hair and beard a mass of wild tangles, clothes blending with the shades of the night surrounding him, cloak fluttering in and out of the trees like a living shadow....

Except for his face, which showed above the beard pale as ivory... and, where his cloak drew back over one shoulder, a swan’s wing replaced his right arm, pale and iridescent as a pearl.

Shizuka couldn’t even breath. She stood, hand still on the edge of the well, unable to so much as blink. She swallowed once, but was unable to summon the strength to ask this one-winged stranger who he was and what he was doing there.

The wing fluttered once, catching the moonlight with a spectral glow. He took a step back into the shadowy trees. The next thing she knew, he was gone.

Shizuka’s breath escaped in a great rush; sagging limply, her hands clutching the edge of the cistern were all that kept her from collapsing. My God, he was a ghost.... She felt drained, mentally as well as physically. Her head dropped forward as she closed her eyes, taking in great gulps of air.

A few minutes later, Shizuka felt settled enough to try to move. Finally releasing her grip, she took a few hesitant steps; her knees wobbled, but she was able to stay upright well enough. She just knew she couldn’t stay in that inn yard anymore. She had to get back to the safe security of the room she shared with Kagami. Even if she were unable to rest, at least she would have the comfort of a real person nearby.

It felt like ages crossing the small earthen patch, even longer making her way up the stairs, dragging herself along by the railing. By the time she achieved the room, she felt so exhausted it was all she could do to collapse into her bed, just barely remembering to take off her shoes before doing so.

The rest of the night, her mind was filled with visions of swans and a man with wings for arms.