Moss and Morning Mist

Narumi knelt beside the stream, watching cherry petals dance across the water's surface. Three days had passed since she fled her family's estate, and the Hidden Grove of Takamori had become her sanctuary.

"Another early riser, I see," called an elderly voice.

She turned to find an old woman approaching with a wicker basket. The woman's kind eyes crinkled as she smiled.

"I'm Grandmother Sato," the woman said, settling beside a moss-covered stone. "You're the girl who's been sleeping under the shrine, aren't you?"

Narumi's cheeks warmed. "I didn't think anyone noticed."

"Hard not to notice someone with such graceful movements." Grandmother Sato pulled rice balls from her basket. "Hungry?"

Narumi hesitated, then accepted the offered food gratefully.

"The grove keeps its secrets well," Grandmother Sato said softly. "But winter's coming. You'll need warmer shelter soon."

As morning mist swirled around them, Narumi wondered if hiding forever was truly possible.

The Stone Canvas

That afternoon, Narumi followed a narrow path she hadn't noticed before. It wound past bamboo groves toward what sounded like rushing water.

She emerged at a small waterfall where an elderly man sat on a flat stone, his weathered hands moving carefully across a smooth river rock. Paint brushes and colorful pigments were scattered around him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said without looking up. His brush created delicate pink cherry blossoms on the gray stone. "I'm Kenji. Been painting rocks here for forty years."

Narumi stepped closer, mesmerized. "They're like tiny paintings."

"Want to try?" Kenji offered her a clean brush. "Your hands look steady."

Narumi hesitated. At home, she'd only painted silk fans under strict instruction. This felt different—free.

She dipped the brush in blue paint and began sketching a small bird on a smooth stone. The color flowed naturally, and she found herself adding details she'd never attempted before.

"You have a gift," Kenji observed quietly. "Hidden talents often surprise us most."

Just then, voices echoed from the path behind them. Narumi's brush froze mid-stroke as she recognized the formal tone of her family's servants calling her name through the trees.