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While Fumiko hurried out to get some help (or, perhaps, to escape any further teasing), Sumiko watched her leave and shook her head fondly. She hoped the best for that girl, she really did. Hopefully her crush panned out for her, a new beau just might be able to convince her to relax and have some fun without worrying about her responsibilities for a change. 

[b]"Phew~"[/b] Sumiko fanned herself with her hand after all of the boxes were packed and piled on the veranda. The cold air cooled her down quickly, and she gathered as many things into her arms as she could carry and set out for the village square where the festivities were to happen. She wasn't concerned about leaving the rest of it where it was on her doorstep - no one in town would mess with it, and if Fumiko returned before she did, the other girl would know where to bring it. If nothing else she could rely on Fumiko keeping her word and returning with the rest of the items.

Her pace was leisurely and she hummed as she walked, peeking out from around her burden to make sure she didn't crash into anyone or anything. There was a warm, happy feeling bubbling up in her chest as the morning wore on that easily chased out the season's lingering chill. She was just so excited to dance again. The festival was her absolute favorite time of year.

She envisioned the scene she would set. First, underneath the kimono she would wear a light robe of pale pink, the collar of which was sure to poke out from beneath the more elaborate garment. The folded silk flower she planned to wear in her hair was of the same color, and secured from the bottom blue and white beads of glass dripped down like melting ice. The earrings she already had on featured the same look, both accessories standing out all the more due to her snow white hair. The final glass piece would be secured to the front of her obi as the obidome, run through by a tight white cord and "melted" by the sunrise on her sleeve. Yes, the kimono itself was the star of this outfit - hand crafted for this festival a few years ago by Heiseina's very own half priestess, half seamstress to invoke the awakening of Miorochi. The backdrop was practically brand new - it was what she'd been inspired to repaint, so it would be a fresh look for the familiar performance. Bright colors forming a rainbow of sunlight clawing its way over the horizon, staining the snow with signs of spring. At its edges, vibrant plant life curled into the scenery. 

The dance itself was one she'd practiced many times since she was a small girl. She knew each step by heart, and every time she performed it was as wonderful as the last. [i]Miorochi-sama, please enjoy this year's performance as well,[/i] she thought to herself, glancing at the mountains in the near distance. 

A shrill cry drew her attention away. Sumiko was practically at the stage area already, so she hurried the rest of the way and hastily set the baskets down onto it. She flicked her gaze up in the direction the commotion was coming from as the noises grew louder. Then came the people, scared and headed in the direction of the Takamori estate. Where else could they be going in such a panic? Following behind them was the beat of hooves, the low groaning of voices, and the clink of metal. 

If they were normal out of town visitors, the people wouldn't be so fear stricken. Sumiko went in the opposite direction, towards the disturbance, and when she found it she was struck by the same fear that had sent others running - but instead she was frozen in place. Weapons? Armor? The kind of things that existed only tales of the past were right in front of her. The strange men stopped riding, dismounting in front of the inn.

[i]Eh? At Benjiro-ojisan's place?[/i] Sumiko couldn't help it, she forced her feet to move and quietly got closer. Who were these people, why were they here? On today of all days... 

She wasn't particularly well hidden, across the street from the inn and peering out from behind a few crates. She pulled a parchment from her yukata, sketching the banners the men were carrying while her mind whirled. She'd been [i]everywhere[/i] in the valley, she was sure of it, but she'd never encountered anything like this. The symbol was completely unfamiliar. And the... weapons... her sick fascination was quickly becoming just sickness. Sumiko placed a hand gingerly over her mouth. They weren't going to hurt Benjiro, were they? She wasn't particularly close with him for a number of reasons, but she'd hate to see him (or any of the villagers) hurt. But it wasn't Benjiro that came to greet the strangers, it was his daughter.

[b][i]"Takara?!"[/i][/b] Sumiko hissed to herself, eyes wide as the younger woman strode up on her prized steed.