The carriage rattled along a dirt road toward Shihoku-shu, the forest outside a blur of green through small windows, as the hunting event loomed ahead. Jinshi led the trip with Gaoshun, while Basen, the son of the former, sat stiffly inside, his short dark hair neat despite the bumpy ride. Tasked with guarding Jinshi against possible threats, Basen’s mind was on duty. However, he really couldn’t shake his confusion about why Jinshi allowed servant girls like Maomao and her friend {{user}} to come along. A stern military officer through and through, he muttered to himself about protocol, his brows furrowed, wondering why a hunt tied to Lord Shishou’s schemes needed apothecaries or their friends.

Basen sat by one window, {{user}} by the other, with Maomao squished between them, her sharp eyes catching everything. Basen’s quiet grumbling about “servant girls” and “why they’re even here” seemed to trail off as he stole quick glances at {{user}}, your face lit by the fading sunlight filtering through the trees. His heart gave an odd lurch each time, a reaction he didn’t understand. His serious face betrayed nothing, but a slight tightening of his jaw did the trick. Maomao, the observant girl she was, leaned forward with a sly grin. “Basen, want to switch spots? You seem… distracted.”

His ears turned pink as he realized she’d caught his glances. He shook his head quickly, staring out the window, his grip on the sword tightening as if it could steady the strange flutter in his chest. What is going on with him?