Chapter Text
The morning market was crowded, spilling over with chatter and movement. Straw sandals shuffled across dirt paths, vendors called out prices over one another, and the smell of roasted chestnuts and vegetables drifted through the air, warm and sweet. Giyuu followed close behind his sister, his small hands gripping the edge of the woven basket she carried. Tsutako always walked a little too fast, and he always had to take two steps for every one of hers just to keep up.
She paused by a stall selling rice and miso, speaking kindly with the merchant. Giyuu stood beside her, his eyes wandering. The village was noisy, busier than he liked, but he never said anything. His sister liked the market, and he liked being with her.
He adjusted the collar of his yukata as a gust of wind swept through, carrying dust into the air. When he blinked, something white caught his eye. At first, he thought it was cloth hung to dry behind one of the stalls, until he saw it move.
A boy about his age stood near the edge of the square, dragging a wooden cart piled high with firewood. His hair was messy and pale, as if snow had been caught in it, and he wore a long white kimono tied loosely at the waist. He looked out of place among the other merchants and villagers.
Giyuu couldn't tell why he stared so long, but the boy noticed him and tilted his head slightly, as if trying to decide whether he should smile or not.
Giyuu glanced up at Tsutako, who appeared to be in deep conversation with an elderly woman about sowing. Giyuu decided now was his opportunity to go and speak with the boy he had seen over by the stall. Tsutako wouldn't mind him wandering off, as long as he didn't stray too far.
He began walking over, now much closer than he had been earlier, and the boy caught his eyes again. Before either could look away, a group of men walked past, obscuring Giyuu's view, and one brushed against Giyuu's shoulder, pushing him forward by accident.
He stumbled, colliding right into the white haired boy.
A soft thud. Firewood rolled across the dirt.
"Hey, watch it!" The boy's voice wasn't angry, more startled than anything. He crouched quickly to gather the pieces, and Giyuu dropped to his knees too, brushing dirt from the bark before setting it back in the cart.
"Sorry," Giyuu muttered, his voice quiet, and a little embarrassed. What a great first impression.
The boy looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. You didn't mean to." His tone eased, and he smiled a little. "You got a strong push for a small thing, huh?"
Giyuu gave an awkward nod, unsure what to say next. He wasn't used to talking to other kids. Most of the village children avoided him, saying he was strange, or too quiet.
The boy stacked the last log neatly, then leaned against the cart with a grin that looked too big for his thin face.
"I'm San," he said.
Giyuu opened his mouth to speak, when he remembered how Tsutako had warned him against giving out his name to people whom he had only just met.
Ever since their parents had passed away from illness a few years ago, it had just been him and Tsutako. She had been both a caring older sister, and a loving motherly figure in his life. But she was quite petite, and wasn't overly strong, so she avoided having visitors over or engaging with people whom she didn't know very well. She also had strict rules about Giyuu giving out his name to people whom weren't from their village, and Giyuu recognised most people.
That's why this particular boy had caught his attention. He wasn't from around here.
But it was fine. This boy seemed nice. And Giyuu could just use the nickname his sister had given him.
"Yuu," Giyuu answered softly.
"Yuu, huh? Sounds easy to remember." San wiped his hands on his kimono, leaving faint smudges of dirt behind. "You from around here?"
"Yes."
"Nice! I come from the next village over," San explained. "My brother and I chop wood and sell it here sometimes. It's a long walk, though. My legs hate it."
That pulled a small amused huff of air from Giyuu. San seemed pleased by it, as if getting him to laugh was some kind of victory.
"So, you can smile," San said teasingly. "You looked like you were gonna cry when you bumped into me just before."
"I wasn't," Giyuu said quickly, frowning, though there was no real heat behind it. "I just felt... stupid..."
San straightened up, his brows furrowing, "No need. It was an accident." He then looked over his cart. "Anyway, thanks for helping. Some people would've just walked away."
Before Giyuu could reply, Tsutako called his name from across the market. Her voice was clear, the kind that always made people turn their heads. She waved when she saw him. "Yuu, come on! We need to stop by the apothecary before we go home!"
Giyuu looked back at San, a little uncertain. He didn't want to just leave without saying something, but he wasn't sure what the right thing was.
"You live nearby, right?" San asked, as if reading his hesitation. "I'll be back here next week to sell more wood. Maybe I'll see you again."
Giyuu nodded. "Maybe."
San grinned. "Good. Maybe you can show me around once I'm done selling firewood, if there's time."
He picked up the handles of his cart and started walking toward the row of stalls by the river, his hair catching the sunlight like frost. Giyuu watched until he disappeared into the crowd, then turned to join Tsutako.
She raised a brow as he came running up beside her. "Who was that boy?"
"Just someone selling wood."
"He looked nice," she said with a knowing smile. "Did you make a new friend?"
Giyuu shrugged, his cheeks warming. "I don't know. He said he's coming back next week though."
Tsutako laughed softly and reached over to fix the tie on his yukata. "You'll know next week, then."
That evening, after they returned home, Giyuu helped her put away the rice and vegetables. The house smelled of cedar and smoke, the air cool as night settled over the village. When everything was done, he sat on the porch steps, resting his chin on his knees.
He thought about the white haired boy's grin, the kind way he spoke, and the small burst of excitement and nerves that had stirred in Giyuu's chest when San had said, "see you next week."
It wasn't often someone looked at him without judgment or curiosity. It felt strange, but not in a bad way. More like something new, something worth keeping quiet about until he understood it.
And so, when Tsutako called him inside for supper, he went, though his mind stayed half in the marketplace, replaying the sound of San's voice.
Maybe he'd go back to the market next week, even if Tsutako didn't need anything. Just in case.
ꨄ︎
The following week arrived with the kind of light that made the rooftops look brushed in gold. The market was already filling when Giyuu and Tsutako reached the main road. Giyuu carried a small pouch of coins tied at his belt, pretending to study the stalls, though his attention wasn't really on the fruit, or the vegetables, or the merchants who called his sister's name.
His eyes were searching.
He didn't even realise how often he looked toward the row of firewood carts on the other side of the pavilion until Tsutako nudged him with her elbow.
"You can go," she said with a teasing smile. "I'll finish up here. Just don't disappear."
Giyuu hesitated for only a heartbeat before he nodded. He murmured something like "I'll be back soon," then turned, weaving through the crowd.
The smell of sawdust and pine told him where to go, followed by a familiar sounding voice.
San was there.
The boy stood behind a new pile of neatly bundled firewood, his white kimono sleeves tied back as he stacked the pieces. His hair looked just as wild as last week, sticking out in every direction, and his expression was focused until he happened to glance up.
"Yuu!"
Giyuu stopped. The name left San's mouth so easily, like it had never been forgotten.
He hadn't been forgotten.
San waved at him, that broad grin spreading across his face. "I thought you weren't coming today. You're late."
"I had to help my sister with chores first," Giyuu said quietly, though he couldn't help the warmth that he felt.
"Fair enough," San said. "Come on, help me out before the next customer asks me for a discount because I'm taking too long."
Giyuu walked closer, his sandals scuffing against the dirt. The cart beside San was piled high, though one corner was covered with a large blanket. Before he could ask about it, the blanket shifted, and a omething small moved underneath.
Giyuu blinked. "What's that?"
San looked over, and just as he opened his mouth, a head popped out. A much smaller boy sat up, squinting against the light. His hair was dark, shaved close at the sides but sticking up into a tiny Mohawk at the top. He rubbed his eyes and gave a wide yawn.
"This," San said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, "is my little brother. Genya."
Genya blinked sleepily at Giyuu, then gave a shy nod before pulling the blanket tighter around himself.
"I had to bring him today," San explained. "Our father was... busy... and I couldn't leave him alone at home. He causes a lot of mischief, but I like him anyway."
"I don't," Genya said, his voice still heavy with sleep.
"Sure," San said with a grin.
Giyuu smiled faintly at their exchange. "Hello, Genya."
The little boy looked at him carefully, then gave a tiny wave. His cheeks were flushed from sleep, and his small grin was almost contagious.
San noticed the way Giyuu smiled. "Don't let him fool you. He acts all nice until food is around, then he turns into a wild animal."
Genya pouted. "You're lying again."
"Only a little," San said with mock innocence, and Giyuu found himself laughing softly. It was strange, how easily laughter came around them.
He ended up staying beside San, handing bundles of wood to customers while San handled the coins. Genya sat on the cart, swinging his feet and munching on a piece of dried fruit that a passing merchant had given him.
When an elderly woman approached, San greeted her politely and asked how much wood she needed. Giyuu recognised her immediately.
"Mrs Rosa," he said, bowing slightly. "Good afternoon."
The old woman turned with surprise. "Oh, if it isn't little Yuu. My, you've grown since the last time I saw you. Your sister still baking those honey buns of hers?"
"Yes," Giyuu said. "She made some this morning."
Mrs Rosa's face softened. "That's wonderful. I'd buy some if I could still walk that far without my legs aching." She looked at San's bundles of wood next. "I could use a cart full, but my back won't let me carry it home."
"Where do you live?" San asked, already glancing toward his cart.
"Down the south road, near the old bakery," she said.
San nodded. "No problem. I can bring them to you. I'll just need to leave my brother here."
Genya's head shot up. "Wait, what? Alone?"
San raised an eyebrow. "You'll be fine. You can take a nap if it's quiet." He said, ruffling his brother's hair, "I know how tired the long journey over the hill makes you. Besides, we'll sell more wood if you stay here with a basket, and I take the cart. Remember what father said? We have to sell it all."
Genya seemed pleased about the idea of more sleep, but pouted slightly, "But what if you need help?" He asked, his tone laced with worry, "Remember when we were late home that one time? What if the cart gets stuck, again?"
San seemed to tense a little at that.
Giyuu stepped in before Genya could protest further. "I can come too," he offered. "To help."
San turned to him with surprise, then smiled. "You'd really do that?"
Giyuu nodded. "It's not far, and I can help pull the cart if you get tired."
"Alright then." San picked up the cart handles and nodded toward Tsutako, who was still across the square. "You should ask your sister first, though. Don't want her thinking I kidnapped you."
Giyuu rushed off to where Tsutako stood, telling her everything. She listened patiently, her eyes bright with amusement.
"So you're helping deliver firewood now?" she said, a hand resting on her hip. "You've become quite the gentleman. Who are you delivering firewood to, anyway?"
"Mrs Rosa," Giyuu said quickly. "You know her."
Tsutako's expression softened. "Of course. Go on, then. Just be careful, and be home before sunset."
"I will."
He thanked her, then darted back through the crowd, waving at Genya as he passed by, then caught up to San, who was already following Mrs Rosa down the path.
The road wound away from the heart of the village, the sounds of the market fading into the distance. Birds darted between the trees, and the cart's wheels creaked steadily. The dirt path was uneven, and after a while, small puddles began to appear where the last rain had pooled.
When one of the wheels sank into a rut, San groaned and leaned on the handles. He gave it one strong pull, but the cart jolted back, lodged in place. “Perfect. Genya jinxed me, the little brat." He said, but without any real malice.
"Let me help," Giyuu said, stepping beside him. "We can pull it together."
San looked surprised. "You sure?"
Giyuu nodded. "If we lift up and pull at the same time, it'll come loose."
San grinned. "Alright, boss. You count us in."
Giyuu crouched slightly and gripped one handle. "One, two, three."
They heaved together, the cart jerking free from the mud with a squelch. Both stumbled back slightly but started laughing before they could stop themselves.
"See? Told you it would work," Giyuu said, brushing dirt from his sleeve.
"You did," San admitted, still smiling. "Guess you're smarter than you look."
"Hey, I look smart," Giyuu said, pretending to sound offended.
"Sure you do," San teased, his grin widening.
Mrs Rosa chuckled softly ahead of them. "You boys seem to get on well. Is he a relative, Yuu?" She asked.
San's expression softened at that, as Giyuu cleared his throat.
"Uh, no, he’s not."
She eyed the both of them curiously, "Close friends then, perhaps?"
San and Giyuu exchanged a look, both boys smiling at one another before looking away, both seeming almost a little shy.
San nodded his head, "Yeah, something like that." He muttered, though the question wasn’t directed at him.
Giyuu felt his heart race. He hadn't ever really had any friends, so the idea that San had agreed, even if it was just so that Mrs Rosa would stop questioning them, made him feel almost a little giddy inside.
They reached her house a short while later. It sat beside a small garden with climbing beans and a crooked fence. Mrs Rosa insisted they leave the wood by her shed, and when they finished, she pressed a small bag of coins into San's hand.
"You worked hard," she said, handing them some food for their effort. "Take some sweets for your little brother, too."
San's eyes lit up when she handed him a small paper bag. He bowed, murmuring his thanks.
Once they said their goodbyes, the two boys started back. The sun hung lower now, washing the fields in soft amber.
San pushed the empty cart with one hand, his other holding a rice ball Mrs Rosa had given him. Giyuu walked a step behind.
San slowed a little. "Sorry we didn't get time for you to show me around today. I was really looking forward to it." He said, with a fond sigh. "Selling the wood comes first though."
Giyuu smiled. "It's fine, really."
San looked at him, then said, "Maybe next week?" His tone carried a spark of excitement before he caught himself and spoke more quietly. "If that's alright, I mean."
"Of course," Giyuu said.
San grinned. "Good. Then it's a promise."
They reached the edge of the market, to find Genya waiting patiently with an empty basket, and a small sack of coins. San handed him the paper bag filled with sweets, and the three of them walked to where the path split, one road leading toward San's village and the other toward Giyuu's home.
"Safe travels," Giyuu said, bowing slightly.
"See you next week, Yuu," San said, raising a hand in farewell. Genya waved too, clutching his sweets like treasure.
Giyuu watched them until they disappeared down the path. The market sounds had quieted, and the smell of bread from the bakery drifted through the cooling air.
When he finally turned to walk home, his thoughts were filled with only one thing.
San.
The way his lavender eyes had crinkled when he smiled, and how kind his laugh had sounded.
He didn't understand it yet, but something about that warmth felt right. And he suddenly became very aware of how eagerly he'd await to see the other boy, week after week.