>>3556This is so freakin' cute it inspired me to scrawl down some New Years' fic.
—
The postbox is filled with postcards.
Some few are from business associates, management, and distant relations. These lie in simple, but well-folded envelopes, waiting to be opened, nodded at, and filed away. They’re all pre-printed. Even without reading them, one can guess that they’re all adorned with horses.
There are horses on the other ones, too, albeit hand-drawn ones. The envelopes are hand-folded from tickets, newspapers, certificates, whatever humans have thrown out, or forgotten.
A small hand reaches out for them.
“Not now, Kitaro. We’ll look at them later, ok?” Gegero nods, gently wrapping the boy into a shirt. “We’re off to the shrine first.”
“Da.” Kitaro nods, sagely. Mizuki’s heart swells stupidly with pride, it isn’t even technically his child, but the quiet, observing tone in the boy’s voice has him impressed. Kitaro is growing into a quiet child, crying only under distress. Mizuki isn’t sure if it’s a youkai thing or not, but he appreciates it, all the same.
—-
The shrine is very lively. Moss grows all over the entrance of the derelict location; a group of Tanuki pass by. Gegero makes Mizuki step aside; On further inspection, it’s a small procession, heralded by the sound of clacking beads.
“That’s the great clan of the sea-shell-eaters, the bride seems to be from Edo.” Gegero’s voice tickles the shell of Mizuki’s ear, the heat making his collar flush. “They’re hoping to rekindle their families’ bond, by marrying on New Year’s Day.”
They let the procession pass. A scent of incense runs through the air, familiar, as if it came from a regular shrine. It sets Mizuki at ease; He prays for the health of his family, and almost misses the small, cat-like girl who stands by the altar, following them with barely-hidden excitement as they leave.
“Mr. human…!” She cries, a shrill, kitten-like voice. Mizuki locks gazes with her and shakes his head, while Gegero takes one instinctive step closer to loom around him, his taller frame almost dwarfing Mizuki’s, as he seems to grow higher still (Mizuki isn’t sure if he can do that, or if it’s just a trick of perception).
“That’s Mr. Mizuki to you.” Mizuki frowns.
She purses her lips, the spitting image of a cat who just tipped over a saucer. “Mr. Gegero, Mr. Mizuki. Can I see Kitaro?”
Mizuki has to smile - Gegero laughs, as he leans down to show her the boy, whom she watches with round eyes. “Remember your manners. I’m trying to raise him right.”