Shutaro sat on the window ledge of one of the manor’s high towers, drinking in the smell of summer on the wind. It was the smell of grass, and of flowers in bloom. The sharp tang of burning wood, and the distant warning of rain as the thunderclouds moved in at the horizon to crowd out the bright blue sky.

“Dangerous place to sit, big brother,” Ryoko cooed as she swaggered in. “I ought to push you off.”

Shutaro tensed, but Ryoko only sat beside him and put her arm around her brother.

“It smells like it’s going to rain.”