A lone wisp of smoke trails into a pallid sky.

One could trace it back down to find its source, a long row of shop house at the end of old town.

Specifically, the third block of brick building in the long shop house.

Smoke billowed from the chimney into the air like an upward brush stroke.

A young woman stands at the stove in the little room, blowing mightily as she wipes sweat from her brow.

Her skin has the healthy glow of a person raised in the sun. She is plump in all the places a girl should be—but she is not soft.

“Hmm…About like this?”

Brita wipes soot from her cheeks with the cloth draped across the shoulder of her work apron and squints contentedly.

Her bright eyes are fixed on some meat hung neatly inside the shed, visible through the window.

The smoke envelopes it, gradually bringing out the fat along with an irresistible aroma.

Smoked meat.

Every year the Sandal villagers take cow that have grown big on acorns and daisies and smoke them like this. 

This time Hiro Company assembles their produce here.

There is plenty of meat in the room, and they would let it smoke all day. They would keep up the process for several days, meat is a labor-intensive product.

So usually, her town guard job starts late and finish early today, so she helps the company that finance her current good lifestyle.

“Well, I guess when you have work, you have work,” Brita says to herself, then laughs as if this doesn’t bother her one bit.

She becomes fond of them, after all. She now has a lot female companions and no longer has to worry about financial hardship.

This belief comes so naturally to her, she almost doesn’t have to think about it.

“Hup!”

It feels good to stretch as she rises, after crouching so long to watch the fire.

She stands, arms outstretched, ample chest bouncing, cracking her joints and letting out one more great breath. As she raises her face, a corona of light dances from the opening in the wall.

Dawn. The sun. The start of a new day—although in fact, her day has already been well under way.

Only Brita and Hanabi wake up early in the morning among the inhabitants of the long building.

As the wall of Lothering Town is low, the plain outside could be viewed from the upper floor of the long building.

Beyond the wall, the wheat fields that run along either side of the road catch the sun’s rays and sparkles. The wind bends the crops gently, creating ripples in a sea of gold. The rustle of the stalks sounds not unlike the ocean.

Or so Brita imagines, anyway. She has never been to the seaside. Soon the farm’s roosters notices the morning’s approach and begins to crow.

Their calls coaxes townspeople from their slumber, and thin streams of smoke appears on the horizon. There are quite a few for such an early hour.

The morning light revealed just how vibrant and lively the town is.

Banners waves atop buildings, streamers in the shapes of dragons or gods whipping in the gust.

The same wind makes its way over to the girl whose short hair is brownish red, brushing her cheek as it passes.

“Wow…” She trembles a little at the chill.

The air feels good against her sweaty skin, but it is less cool and more uncomfortably cold.

The sun striving to rise past the horizon radiates with a soft light.

It is falls.

The harvest season has come. Summer is over, and it is time to prepare for winter.

Farm and town have both grown busy.

Lively and prosperous, it is one of the world’s beautiful seasons.

Though to Brita, the world is always beautiful.

She knows everyone is working hard—including Hiro.

Yet she also knows he would come and help her. Hiro picks her from nowhere and lifts her up to present lifestyle.

Just the thought lightens her heart, and she all but skips on her way back to the main house.

After all, fall is also the time for the festival.

***

When Hiro left the Merchant Guild, a sweet aroma envelopes him.

Now what could this scent be…?

Even as he is wondering, a gust of cool breeze carried the smell away.

As the sun set, the day’s warmth recedes as though it has never been.

The night approaches. He stares up at a cold sky dots with stars.

The twin moons, full with the promise of a rich harvest, gleams with a light that is somehow metallic, inorganic.

“Hm.”

It is autumn already.

But it means very little to him.

There is a style of economic tactic appropriate for spring—as well as one for summer, for winter and, yes, for autumn.

He scans the silent streets.

The banners and streamers hanging in anticipation of the festival, along with the wooden towers, cast a complex network of shadows on the ground. Hiro weaves between them as he walks.

These are streets he becomes increasingly familiar, but he knows nothing about self defense, so each time he passes a shadow, he

reflexively makes a fist.

At the same time, he is calculating on Plan A, Plan B, Plan C, Plan D and so on.

Hiro is the kind of man who plan several steps ahead.

Not all preparations are helpful, but one could never be too prepared.

This is one of Hiro’s most cherished principles.

“Oh, there you are!”

Thus he could take the unexpected, but familiar, voice in stride.

The bright, friendly greeting doesn’t quite match the night—though perhaps he needs the light.

“Oh, you " Hiro says. “You came to meet me?”

It is, of course, Brita.

“Heh-heh!” With a smile on her face and a bounce in her chest, she patters quickly toward him. 

“I wish I could say I did. I just happened to be in Abram City. Work, you know.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, it is.” She nods firmly and her boobs jiggle. His eyes follow that intently.

“A delivery?”

“Uh-uh.” Brita shakes her head. 

“Reporting to Abram knights office. Captain tell me to

handle it so I would learn about the procedural side of things.”

“Is that so?” he says again, nodding. He is pleasantly surprised Brita's vocabulary has expanded. She could beat Irijina in no time, he thinks.

They walk side by side, passing through the entrance into Lothering Town.

They immediately turn left and walk silently into old town.

The sun is absent and the town dark, leaving the two alone in the backstreet. The street in the old town is even more lonely and dark.

“…Shall we go home?”

“Yeah, let’s.”

They continue walking, falling into step beside each other.

They follow their own shadows stretching out along the flagstones and silently head home.

Not in a hurry, but not taking their time.

The lack of.conversation doesn’t bother them. Sometimes it is quite nice.

“Ah…”

With a whoosh, the cool wind blows again and brings that pleasant fragrance with it.

Hiro couldn’t quite seem to remember what it reminds him of.

A single flower petal dances through the air, accompanying the breeze and smell.

Hiro looks up. He sees a tree blanketed in golden flowers.

“Oh, it’s fragrant olive.” Brita follows his gaze upward and uses her hand to shield her eyes from the brightness of the leaves. “It’s blooming already.

I guess this is the season.”

It has been a flower’s aroma.

“So it is,” murmurers Hiro, now that he knows where the odor is coming from.

It is strange how the frame of pale yellow flowers makes even the cold moon seems warm.

As he starts walking away, he suddenly feels a soft sensation surround his left hand.

She has clasped his hand in her gloved hand.

She is blushing just enough to be visible, her eyes averts ever so slightly.

“I mean… It could be dangerous, to walk while you’re looking up like that.

It’s… It’s dark.”

“…”

“I’m sorry. Did I…?”

She glances at his face, trying to decide how to take his silence.

After a moment, Hiro slowly shakes his head.

“No.”

“Hee-hee.”

And Brita set off, pulling Hiro behind her.

He could feel her warmth through her glove. Holding on to that sensation, he trails behind her.

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye.

“By the way…”

“What?”

“Do you know what the fragrant olive symbolizes in flower language?”

“Flower language?” 

Hiro repeats, as if he’d never heard the expression before. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, I think you should find out, then.”

She sounds very much like a child trying to emulate an adult.

Brita chuckles and smiles knowingly, wagging her index finger slightly.

“To me, I think it suits you.”

“…I’ll keep it in mind.”

Hiro nods and Brita responds in kind with a “Mm” of affirmation.

Should she brings it up?

Brita has managed to break the ice.

Hiro isn’t that hard to read. Still, he could be surprisingly stubborn, so she would have to use her head.

“…The festival’s coming up—it’s already the day after tomorrow.”

“Yes, it is.” He nods assiduously. “I was invited to it, myself.”

“Eeeh?!” A strange cry escapes her.

“What’s wrong?”

“No, I—uh, I mean— Who invited you? And what did you say?”

“The receptionist from the Guild. You should know her.”

Brita nods.