The knock came just after sunrise — two firm raps, then silence. You set your teacup down and opened the door to find Sanemi standing there, wind-tossed and slightly out of breath, his haori hanging open like he’d walked through half the mountain to get here.

Behind him, Giyuu waited at the edge of the path, still as a shadow, holding a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

“You’re both up early,” you said, voice light with surprise.

Sanemi grunted, eyes darting past you into the cottage as if checking that it was safe — as if anything in your quiet little home could possibly be dangerous to him. “You live too far out,” he said, by way of greeting. “You should move closer to town.”

You smiled faintly. “And give up my peace and quiet?”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “peace’ll get you killed.”

Giyuu stepped forward then, silent as always, and held out the bundle. Inside were a few fish, cleaned and neatly tied. “River’s full this time of year,” he said softly. “Thought you might like some.”