I have an infinite number of shikigami

"Why are you here too?"

"Of course, I wanted to see what else you're hiding from me."

"Are you satisfied now?"

"Very satisfied."

"Will you report me when we get back?"

"As long as you keep the secret, I won't mind."

"Long live understanding!"

The sky was dressed in the evening glow, and the two strolled along the lakeside, passing through the cherry blossom grove onto an elegant path.

After walking a while, they barely spoke, like a couple entering a period of ennui, Fujiwara Reya wandered aimlessly with her through the twilight-draped valley.

In the distance, rubbish left by tourists was burning, with white smoke swirling upward.

The camphor trees beside the path had intertwined branches.

The withered leaves at the tips were already suggesting the onset of autumn.

Holding Mrs. Imperial's hand, Fujiwara Reya's mind was a jumble of thoughts.

At that moment, she was as elegant as the most prestigious statue in the Heian Shrine, Kyoto. Was it an illusion, or had he really been charmed by her to this extent?

"What are you thinking about?" Mrs. Imperial asked lazily.

Fujiwara Reya gently squeezed her palm: "Thinking about how to conquer a high-statured widow."

"That will indeed require some effort." Mrs. Imperial glanced at the clear sky, smiling charmingly as if letting a happy secret slip from her lips.

At times like this, Fujiwara Reya could savor the extraordinary beauty in the misty sunset.

After walking a bit further, they passed a field of flowers.

In the field, tulips bloomed in such splendor that it almost made one want to shout.

Red, yellow, white... the flowers in full bloom seemed to tint the air with vibrant colors, permeating the hearts of those admiring the scenery.

Fujiwara Reya couldn't help but gently place his hand on the knot of Mrs. Imperial's kimono sash.

Mrs. Imperial found it amusing in her heart but did not show it on her face.

As they walked a bit more, the path through the flower field grew narrower, no longer wide enough for two people to walk side by side.

Mrs. Imperial lifted the hem of her kimono slightly and walked ahead.

Suddenly, an odd feeling seized her heart. She thought: with the scoundrel walking behind, should she stop abruptly so that he would bump into her, letting them both tumble into the flower field?

She wanted to halt her steps.

But it felt too unnatural.

The imagined scene floated in Mrs. Imperial's mind.

The current psychological state compelled her to touch upon the core issue.

The uneasy core was like lively little particles hidden in the fresh air after a rain, and her nostrils seemed to catch the tantalizing scent these transparent particles emitted... of course, it might have been the tulips' fragrance causing an illusion.

The two walked one behind the other out of the flower field, passing the waterfall in the courtyard.

A circle of sacred ropes blocked the waterfall's mouth, with tied-on white paper fluttering in the wind. After passing the waterfall, Mrs. Imperial saw a village.

This was an ordinary village commonly seen across Japan, with every household facing firewood and clotheslines; some drying family clothes, others with strings of dried persimmons under the eaves, their surfaces smooth with a sunset-like orange-red hue.

"Do ordinary people or goblins live here?" Mrs. Imperial asked curiously.

"Both ordinary people and goblins." Fujiwara Reya said, extending his hand again.

"Why are there ordinary people here?" Mrs. Imperial seemed oblivious to his gesture.

"Because the Mountain God is benevolent." Failing to take her hand, Fujiwara Reya plucked a persimmon from a tree by the road. He wiped it with his sleeve and handed it to her: "Want a bite? It's very sweet."

"Thank you."

Mrs. Imperial elegantly took a small bite.

The sweet juice quickly soaked through from her throat to her heart.

Fujiwara Reya picked another persimmon for himself and continued wandering with her.

The persimmon trees lining the village path were laden with fruit, shining brilliantly in the sunset. The persimmons hanging from the twig-like branches didn't sway with the wind due to their weight, looking as if they were nailed into the air, motionless in the sunset.

Mrs. Imperial occasionally glanced back at the young boy beside her.

He ate the persimmon like an ordinary countryside boy, with juice trickling from his lips onto his collar without minding to wipe it. As he walked, he introduced the local customs, his clear voice riding the wind, stirring her eardrums.

This feeling was quite strange.

It's akin to how city folk yearn for rural charm.

The naturally high-born Mrs. Imperial watched the village boy, his arms dyed golden in the sunset, and thought it would be best if she could lean on his arm and continue down this road to a distant, faraway place.

So would he, after setbacks, reach for her arm again?

This ever-changing young boy since his appearance was sometimes indifferent, sometimes lazy, but never easily discouraged. He certainly couldn't have grown tired of her, a mature widow walking beside him... especially when she appeared this time with careful makeup, elaborate hairstyle, splendid attire, and an incredible scent... He could hardly dream that inside this ostensibly noble woman were swirling adolescent fantasies, like hoping he would take her arm.

Mrs. Imperial couldn't help but smile.

Hearing the soft sound, Fujiwara Reya turned his head to look at her: "Is there something amusing?"