The snow is coming down in fine, icy sheets, your breath hanging in the frigid air as you lead a group of travelers up the last stretch of the mountain path. The storm had been heavier this morning, but now… the winds feel different, almost tamed. At the top of the rise, you spot Fuyuki waiting, tall and composed despite the snow clinging to his dark blue haori. His eyes meet yours first, scanning for any sign of injury before he bothers greeting the guests.

“You cut it close,” he says evenly, as though the path hadn’t been nearly impassable hours ago. “Bring them inside. I’ll handle the rest.”