Gin and Kuro: The Greatest Stories

Seiko helped around the city where she could, even after the summer festival. Everyone warmed up to her so quickly—she had no way of memorizing all of their names and faces, but they knew hers. She only gained popularity when she, Kinjo, and Masaaki debuted a short puppet show the following fall festival, promising to return it every season thereafter.

She finally learned how to ignore the voices after a year and a month. They didn’t get louder to compensate, merely mocked her naivete. She let herself pretend she was normal. When she made that choice, the difference was clear enough that Princess Maenomi asked about it—Seiko explained it as finally coming to terms with something. It even let her grow closer to the royal children than she felt able to when the voices told her to do harm.

Seiko walked through the entire summer festival three times now—once with Maenomi and Kyuru, once with Miss Shiharu and her children, and now with Kinjo by his request—and it never ceased to fascinate her. The difference in moods likely helped; Maenomi and Kyuru focused on games and gifts, while Miss Shiharu treated it as a history lesson for her little ones.

Kinjo led, entertaining some idle conversation as they went. He had a destination in mind, allegedly, but she couldn’t tell if he took a winding path there on purpose or to avoid it. Curiously, the voices were almost completely silent.

They stopped to rest next to one of the food stalls; Seiko watched the festival workers light each lantern by the road while Kinjo got something to eat. He returned with an assorted collection of candies. She reached over to pick out the gold-wrapped ones before he even sat down.

“You really like those, don’t you?” Kinjo asked with a little smile.

She smiled back and shrugged. She did it for his reaction, honestly—that chuckle and the gleam in his eyes that seemed special, even if she couldn’t quite place how—but she didn’t want to admit it. It was more fun this way.

Kinjo passed along the golden-wrapped candies to entertain her whims. He still had a majority of the candies—he only got ten, and four were gold—but it wasn’t by much. They were small and sweet, enough to give her energy for the rest of the walk.

“We’ve been out for over an hour,” Seiko noted after she finished one candy. She gave him a curious, if slightly teasing, look. “Do you really have a place in mind, or did you just want to walk around with someone?”

“Can it be both?” Kinjo asked with a grin.

She hummed. “Maybe. Where were you thinking of going?”

“Can it be a secret?”

“Is there a reason?”

He glanced away and cleared his throat. “…Maybe.”

Seiko unwrapped another candy.

“I can accept that for now.”

Kinjo gave her a thankful smile, briefly ending the conversation. She put the candy in her mouth and chewed as people passed by; mostly couples, although sometimes there were trios and rarely quartets.

Seiko ate her third candy, then her fourth. The crowds thinned a bit by then; she could tell which ones were visitors and which ones were local depending on their outfits, whether they were more focused on their company or the decorations.

A familiar woman came into sight; thin, with long, brown hair and no escort or company. She just blinked at her before the woman turned around, letting her see her full face.

Seiko didn’t know if she was concerned or grateful to see Mikka—the murmur of her voices suggested the former—but regardless, she seemed to be looking with a purpose. She wouldn’t come all this way to sightsee.

She cast Kinjo an apologetic look and sat aside the empty candy wrappers.

“I’ll be back,” she promised.

He nodded and let her go without any protests. Seiko made her way to Mikka, hesitant at first and then quicker. Her mother noticed and smiled.

A question bubbled up and escaped before anything else could be said.

“I thought you weren’t well enough to travel? Much less alone.” That’s what the recent letters suggested, at least. The fact that Mikka looked better than expected worried her more.

“I had someone bring me,” Mikka replied simply. “I wanted to come while the weather was nice, and it’s safer for me to come here than it is for you to come back home.”

“I can’t see how,” Seiko admitted. She took a little breath to shake off her worried anger, then offered a little smile. “But I’m…glad to see you again, Mother.”

“You as well.” Mikka smiled back. “While I’m here, I want to catch up on everything—and that starts with learning who you were talking to before you saw me.”

“I can introduce you.”

Seiko gestured for her to follow, and Mikka complied with an interested and slightly teasing look.

Kinjo perked up once he noticed they were returning, unwrapping his last candy and putting it in his mouth before they fully came over. Mikka spoke up first.

“Are you one of Seiko’s friends?”

Still eating, Kinjo just nodded. Mikka bowed in greeting.

“I’m Tsujihara Mikka, Seiko’s mother.”

Kinjo half-choked on the candy in surprise. He recovered, finished chewing and swallowing, and stood up before Seiko could ask if he was all right.

“Kinjo Asahi; I’m one of the royal family’s soldiers.” He bowed. “I apologize for the reaction; I was…under the impression you lived a fair distance away, so I didn’t expect you.”

“No worries,” Mikka said with a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad Seiko seems to have good company.”

“Would you like a tour of the city, Miss Tsujihara?” Kinjo asked. “Your daughter and I can show you around, if you’d like.”

“It’s been nearly fifteen years,” Mikka murmured. “If neither of you would mind, I’d be grateful to see what’s changed and what places you like best; maybe tomorrow, if I’m allowed to, Seiko could show me around the palace.”

“I’m alright with that if Kinjo is,” Seiko said. She gave a curious look towards the man in question. “I know you wanted to go somewhere specific.”

“It can wait,” Kinjo reasoned. “I’ll have more chances to talk to you than you’ll have chances to talk to your mother in person.”

Seiko nodded, then offered Mikka a little smile. “In that case, let’s not waste too much time. The stalls will start to close in another hour or so.”

With everyone in agreement, Seiko and Kinjo led Mikka on a walk around the city. They took the time to talk—Mikka mused about her time in the capital while Seiko explained the finer details of her past year here, with Kinjo occasionally chiming in.

For a second, she genuinely thought she couldn’t hear the voices—that she was normal, that she could have another chance like this again. She held onto that even as the idea faded into something of a pipe dream. Maybe one day.

But not with us here, the voices warned, buzzing in the back of her mind. She chose to ignore them.