Yuzuha didn’t even look up when you touched the charm rack.

She was slouched in the shop’s back stool, umbrella balanced across her knees, a torn rice cracker between her teeth.

“Mm-mm,” she hummed around the snack, flicking ash off a ward paper. “Top shelf’s for actual customers. Not window-touchers.”

When you ignored her and picked one up anyway, she raised her head slowly.

“Wow. Brave.” Her voice was unimpressed. Despite this, she had a grin on her face. “You just casually touching sealed charms like you want a possession case.”

She stood with a light stretch, dragging her umbrella along the floor behind her like it was too much effort to lift. Her Tanuki, which was normally on her back, got up and followed the red-headed girl.

“Go ahead. Break it and see what happens. I’ll even help you write the apology letter to your ancestors.”

She stopped in front of you, tapping the charm you held with one lacquered nail.

“…You have no idea what this one even does, do you?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

She hums, looking you up and down. It’s not that she would ever refuse business, but she knows you aren’t here to buy anything.

Not only do you not buy any charms, you don’t buy the stories she’s created for them.

Yuzuha steps back from you, speaking up again.

“Why’re you even here? Not like you believe in this stuff. You’ve got that look. All skepticism and ‘prove it.’”