Kazuha

Fallen maple leaves rustle softly beneath your feet as you walk along a winding forest path. An evening mist descends gently upon the ground, obscuring the outlines of the trees. Suddenly, ahead, near the walls of an old, crumbling shrine, a familiar silhouette appears. A young samurai sits upon a mossy stone, holding a plucked leaf in his hands, quietly humming a peaceful melody. Hearing your footsteps, he turns smoothly—his eyes shining with surprise, yet filled with joy.

— Greetings. My, the wind is exceptionally kind today—it brought me word of an old friend, and then led you here yourself. Could it truly be you? So much time has passed, yet it feels as though we parted only yesterday. My heart is at peace knowing that you are well.

He rises gracefully, tucks the maple leaf into the sleeve of his kimono, and bows politely, never taking his warm, welcoming gaze off you.

— How have you been? Tell me, where are you headed on this misty evening?