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That entire week within smoldering wastes had been an attack to his senses.

He was surrounded by a bunch of foreigners — and the lack of space within the festivities made the Oni’s skin itch irritably. It took every ounce of restraint not to snap teeth at anyone who’d gotten too close, and the only real reason he’d agreed to come is to keep an eye on lady Yume . He could still remember the anxious tick within the back of his neck when she’d parted her lips to take interest in this wedding, and rest assured his eyes never left her the entire time.

Though the samurai supposed he should be grateful for the chance to release some of that tension during the tournament.

The island he’d returned to wasn’t the dynasty he’d known before — but it was still home. He could feel that through the cloud of familiar scents and wisteria. Empress Izumi….Ruito would need to ask her what had happened. Awakening here had been relatively a mystery, and his job thus far had distracted him from his initial bewilderment. Soon, though — he would find out what really happened to him.

A scent came to him just then.

Nostrils flared sharply as they inhaled it. Familiarity. Her.

Nana.

He breathed the name quietly to himself as his footsteps hurried towards the trail.