And so it was that, a mere hour after waking up that morning in a small, cold and dirty travelers' hostel, Touka found herself kneeling in a wide and luxurious hallway, her feet nice and warm in soft slippers, waiting to meet the heir of the Mitsumine clan. The maid, Chiyo, had been very gracious, and while it had felt strange to finally hand over the letter she'd been keeping against her chest for the entire long trip, it was a relief in a sense, as well. She cleared her throat behind the screen, loudly. Time to get this over with.
When Takeshi received the letter from Chiyo, he would notice two things about it. The first was the familiar hand the address was written in - Hakurou Anko's graceful and sweeping penmanship hadn't changed. The second was the red wax seal. The 白狼 impression was a little bit blurred, as if it had melted gently, and a tiny bit chipped, as though someone had half-heartedly tried to pry it open but given up. Still, the seal was intact.