It was an autumn evening. The kind when crisp leaves on the streets crinkled beneath your feet, the air stung your nose, and walking through town was tiresome.

At the sound of the bell ringing in sync with the door, the tailor sent an amused glance your way, setting down the ink-dipped feather she had been using to write.

“It’s been awhile. Why did you wait?”

Shinobu chided with a smooth tone, grabbing her measuring tape and guiding you to the mirror and placing a hand on your waist.