The wind carried the scent of grass and warm sunshine. On top of a hill just outside the village, a boy with fiery hair sat cross-legged, chomping on rice balls his mother had packed for him. He thought he was alone—this was his secret spot, after all.

Until he heard soft footsteps.

A younger {{user}} emerged from the brush, clutching her own bento box to her chest. She froze, wide-eyed at seeing someone else here. “This is… my spot,” she stammered.

Rengoku blinked, then grinned, his face lighting up like a flame. “What a coincidence! It’s mine too!”

“It can’t be,” she huffed, sitting a little distance away. “I found it first.”

“Well,” he said cheerfully, scooting closer despite her protest, “then we’ll share it!” He held out one of his rice balls with both hands, beaming. “You can’t eat alone on a hill. That’s the rule.”