#usagi’s fiiiine. don’t worry about it.

[pizzazz-party]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 (sends you a full bouquet in appreciation)

For every "🌹" received in my inbox I’ll post one random sentence of a random WIP I’m currently writing.

Usagi didn’t normally entertain guests this time of year.

Not for a lack of trying—he wasn’t really a hermit, for all that he’d carved a place for himself halfway up a mountain. And he wrote as much in his letters to Jotaro, with as much faux offense as he could brush into the paper. But once the harvest wrapped up and the frost set in, even the most adventurous of villagers preferred to settle down for the winter. So too did the mighty tengu sleep, buried deep in their caves far beyond Usagi’s neck of the woods.

So mostly, Usagi spent the season by himself.

It wasn’t as though winter itself didn’t find ways to keep him busy. Even when it didn’t, he had the space—and tools—to pursue hobbies he hadn’t the luxury for when he still wandered the road of a younger man. Solitude was even nice, for a change. But a season spent alone in his house was still a season steeped in silence. And once the novelty of snow wore off the way it always did, Usagi would once again find himself wandering in and out of old memories, the way he always did this time of year.