The tune was unmistakable.

Peeking around the ornate wooden door, Hancock spied her striking figure, alone against a backdrop of moonlight and rice fields. He thought he would join her, now with the village asleep, he could unwind away from curious eyes.

Then, her voice wavered off-key and faded away.

He pressed both hands against the door and quickly slid back out of view. He held his breath, heart pounding against his ears. Hero though she may be, he supposed one doesn't simply overcome such a loss so quickly. Seconds passed. Wanting to kick himself for the gnawing urge to reach for her and hide away equally, he instead let his thoughts settle on the carvings that were so different than those seen in Kugane and allowed his fingers to run over its grooves as he bought himself time.

Before long, she picked up the tune once more, this time clear and lilting, belying her earlier emotions.

Hancock always thought himself a man of impeccable timing, attuned to those around him. Seizing the opportunity, he pushed up his glasses as he set out to join her, for this year's Rising would once again mark the swallows' return.

"Overtime tonight?" came a voice light as a bell, a hint of a laugh. A pair of elbows rested on his desk and Hancock quickly looked up to see the Warrior's face inches from his. Lady Hatsu smiled sweetly at him, resting her chin in her hands.

It was always overtime now that she was around. She was his charge, as ordered by Lord Lolorito.

A warmth instantly bloomed around his ears and he cursed himself for the rare lapse of awareness. How long had she been here?

"What? Oh, yes! I mean no," he muttered sheepishly, placing a layer of blotting paper between the pages before hastily folding it shut. "I merely had a few things to close out."

She tilted her head to peek at the worn, blue cover. As her dark hair slipped out of her hand and onto the desk, he caught the faint scent of peonies. Had they ever been this close before? And gods, did she know how her bright, jewel-like eyes drew his? He thanked the kami he had the foresight to keep his spectacles on even at this late hour.

"You left me waiting, you know," she frowned.

A slight movement caught his attention and Hancock glanced down to see that her fingers were walking dangerously close to the wasobon. Impulsively, he shot his hand out, interlocking fingers with hers. She jumped a little and looked up at him with wide eyes.

"My dear, had I known you needed my attention, I would have come running!" Direct orders from the chairman, after all. "What is it that you require?"

"Well THAT buyer wanted to meet tonight and I thought you might want to observe," she said, leaning in again with a mischievous smile.

It was a promise of more overtime. She was his charge and yet, he always had to remind himself of this. Though he knew they would carry on all night, as they are wont to do, the proposition was tempting.

"Please?" Her tail swayed back and forth, eyes shining excitedly. How could he tell her no?

Coming to his senses, Hancock registered that she never pulled away. He chanced a little squeeze before letting go and returned her smile with an impish grin. "Very well," he conceded, sweeping the book into his sleeve. He would have to finish his report at a later time.

"Master Hancock!" An unfamiliar voice called out. "Mistress Hatsu and the Scions will be returning soon. You wanted to be the first to know?"

Hancock looked up from his ledger to see a young child at the doorway. He was dressed in a drab, brown kimono, once his own.

He came to them not even a moon ago along with the latest arrival of new hires. Much like himself, the child arrived weak and frail but he could read thus, he was assigned to the office rather than the docks. Another Ul'dahn whose disappearance went unnoticed, much too young to work...though no one in Kugane would look twice, save for his ijin appearance.

"Ah, the notice is much appreciated but please, there's no need to call me that ─ just Hancock is enough."

"But ─"

Hancock held up his hand to interrupt him.

His assistant looked down and shuffled his feet nervously.

"Fret not, dear child. You may be assured you are among equals here." Hancock hoped his cheery tone was enough to assuage his worries. "Now run along, it's nearly lunchtime."

"Alright!"

The tension in his shoulders eased and he slowly let out his breath as the child bounced away. He never knew how to handle the children, much like his predecessor. They understood their circumstance, solitary and precarious. The ones that didn't, well, the chairman has no use for those.

He started as he caught himself staring at the corner of the door. Shaking his head, he thought he should check if the child had enough to eat. After all, it was the least he could do.

"Sunsilk's profits has surged, due in no small part to you, darling!"

Hatsu turned this way and that in front of the vanity. She hardly heard Hancock, so enamored by the glossy threads in the fabric. They were lime green, a sharp contrast to the deep red of the organdy. One wouldn't notice the sheen unless the fabric moved in the light.

"Well, what do you think?" Hancock asked, pushing his red spectacles higher. His grin was heard rather than seen. "It was designed in collaboration with an aspiring seamstress in Yanxia," he explained. "We were sure if you attended the Starlight soiree in it, we would garner the utmost attention! And if all goes according to keikaku, we'll be able to introduce the garment to our patrons."

"I've never worn anything like it…" she said in a hushed voice, wrapping the black fur stole around her shoulders tighter. It was a form fitting dress but the cut still made it easy for her to move. Did her mom ever dress like this? With her grandmother's jade bracelet on her wrist, she wondered if she could play the part of a Far Eastern socialite or if everyone would see right through her.

Hancock's face fell at her pause. "Is it not to your liking? There's time to try a different fabric if you prefer. The pattern, I'm afraid, is not ours to change."

"Oh! No, that's not it!" She waved her hands frantically. The disappointment in his voice broke her trance. "It's beautiful. I-I mean…It feels strange," she admitted, her fingers tracing the asymmetric collar, "to be wearing something like this for the first time. Do you think it looks unnatural on me?"

She looked up to see Hancock's reflection in the mirror. He too, looked uneasy. He tugged at his necktie, red, to match her dress. Then the shirt collar, which was much higher than where his juban usually sat. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. With a charcoal blazer and mint-grey slacks, he cut an even sharper figure than usual. It was a bespoke design, a twist on Sunsilk Tapestries' classic Ul'dahn suit to complement her outfit.

"Not as unnatural as this is on me," he chuckled into his hand. "But you, my dear, are absolutely enchanting."

Hatsu narrowed her eyes in doubt.

"Ah!" Hancock suddenly raised a finger in exclamation. "I have just the thing that might aid you."

Hancock disappeared for a moment and returned with something concealed in his hand.

"The final touch," he sang and with a flourish, opened the box. "A string of pearls from the Ruby Sea along with…"

"Along with—?" Hatsu repeated in confusion. There against the black silk cushion sat the first pendant she made for him to sell. She lifted her head, surprised.

"Something you may be familiar with," he smiles. Hatsu couldn't see his eyes, covered as they were, but she knew they were kind. "My apologies, I simply could not bear to part with it."

Hatsu turned away so he would not see her lip tremble and felt the gentle weight of the pearls as he fastened them around her neck.

Submitted but still too rough to add yet!

There would be one more natsu matsuri before her departure and Hancock never knew if it would be their last.

"It appears there will be rain," he had said, voice smooth, practiced, lacquered to a shine. He could only laugh at such a terrible coincidence.

"There is always next year," Hatsu offered, but he thought the listless edge in her voice suggested otherwise.

Their parasol hit the ground with a soft tap, droplets splashed at their feet soaking the hem of their yukata.

A flash of colors momentarily disguised the pink in her cheeks, a vision incredible to behold, and with the touch of her lips, soft as flower petals, and the sweet taste of caramel still on his tongue, he committed every detail to vivid memory.