The room itself looks like all the others. The simple bedding is rolled up and tidy in the corner, a faded and patched blanket folded neatly on top. There are a few scrolls and small books beside it.

Her familiar, lumpy scroll satchel lies beside the low table, as does a simple wicker basket, currently open. Two cups, one orange-red with a streaky glaze, and one a pockmarked black rest on the table with a small iron pot cast in a falling rain pattern. A kettle heats on a small portable stove set upon a stone tile.

The door remains slightly open as she fusses with preparations.

There is a light scratch at the door as Jiro lightly speaks. "Isawa-san.I am here."

He doesn't enter without explicit permission. He thinks about that, and wonders if he would be so hesitant with Kasumi... and decides he probably wouldn't. Which is probably a pretty slippery slope, as just slipping into a lady's room would likely lead to...

No, you're not with her right now. This is Natsuko's time. Focus.

There is a pause, and a shuffle as she rises to open the door. Slightly more proper than simply calling an invitation to enter? Maybe.

Regardless, the door slides open, Natsuko bowing at the same time. She wears slightly different robes, her usual set being cleaned of their muddy hems and hail-induced water marks. A subtle 'watermark' of flame runs through the pattern in shades of orange. Flowers and phoenixes are brightly embroidered around the hem and lower edges of the hanging sleeves of her furisode. A small catch as she rises from the bow bears testament to pains acquired in the day's activities.

"Thank you for coming, Shiba-san." She steps slightly aside so he can enter, noting, "there are snacks still to come from the kitchen."

"Thank you for setting this up Isawa-san. It is greatly appreciated," he replied. He steps in past her, but pauses before taking any further actions, awaiting her guidance. He did have a gentle smile for her though.

"I am glad to see you again."

He offers a bow. He had worn his sturdier travel clothing earlier at the temple. Now he was in a nicer kimono, but not his ceremonial one.

After sliding the door mostly closed, Natsuko takes a step past, then pauses to look up at him. "Yes, it is good to see you again." She holds out her hand, palm up, in silent invitation to lead him to the table. There are only a few steps to the table in the small room, making the gesture a bit absurd, but also an open offer of contact after that from their previous meeting.

It was certainly a surprise and he suddenly became very nervous about it. Not because of the contact. He was used to such things himself with his brother, mother and some others. But he wasn't expecting it from her. He met her eyes and there was a pang of guilt though he kept it away from his expression. He lightly rested his hand on hers in response and followed along the very short distance before being proffered into the seat.

"I... feel suddenly unprepared for some reason." He met eyes and then looked down, focusing on her shoulder. "You look very nice this evening Isawa-san."

There isn't even a grip, really. Just the faint warmth from her skin as she leads those few steps. The cushions are inn standard, and it's a Crane inn, so they're rather nicely made, even if not brand new. As they are seated, she looks down to her sleeve, then to his somewhat-fancier-than-before kimono and nods. "You are also looking nice, Shiba-san."

"But how can you be unprepared for tea? It is not a fancy one. Just a nice Asako Golden Tips from the coastal mountains." She seats herself at the end of the table with the tea-making equipment, lifting the hot water off to pour over the leaves with a smooth familiarity.

You're lying to yourself. That's why. Because you think she's beautiful. You like when things look different because you grew up with a twin. Things that stand out are good. And she does, just like Kasumi does. And you're trying to deny that like an idiot because she's not as responsive or lively as Kasumi. You're being an idiot and probably sabotaging yourself. Jackass.

"I am not certain. It is just a feeling," he replies shaking his head. "It is likely nothing of concern."

Pausing for a moment, he collects his thoughts.

"Asako Golden Tip sounds wonderful. I appreciate the selection."

Her gaze settles on his for a long moment before she blinks slowly, nods once, and dismisses the small comment for now."

The scent rising from the pot is familiar, warm and astringent. "It is my favorite of the common selections." She swirls the pot once, eyes fixed on the water within before settling the lid in place. "I do not know why, but it often improves my mood if I am troubled. There is no reason it should."

"Thank you for working so hard to repair the shrine. So much attention has filled it with care. Though the Crane need to be convinced not to let it languish."

"I hope that it will do the same for me, but even if not. I should see if I can grind some into powder to blend with matcha then, and make a personalized chamei for us," he says.

"I am glad to have taken part. It is a welcome experience to do such work, an honor to have done so for the fortunes, and a pleasure to have done so at your side. I... wish I could have figured out what to do with the tapestries, but sometimes I get caught up in thought and stress about such things."

Her hand rests on the lid, feeling the warmth and mentally considering the the bitter green/tannic black combination. Not that the flavor of the tea in the ceremony was of central importance, but it was interesting to consider. She nods. "I would be interested in trying that tea." Another pause. "Would you teach me the ceremony? I have studied it through reading, but there is no provision to study it at the Sanctuary." Her quiet, even voice falls within the patter of small hail rattling down the roof.

After a moment, she pours the tea, passing the speckled black mug across the table. "You and your brother. Mired in thought."

"I would be glad to teach you. The steps are relatively straightforward. Though even knowing them, the precision required is quite exacting. It will take a lot of practice. It took me months before I performed it properly, practicing almost daily and as you have seen I still make mistakes," he says with a nod, relaxing a bit.

"I would like to be a sensei one day, so any opportunity to learn how to teach is welcome, regardless of the subject," he smiles as he takes the cup. "What aspirations do you have?"

As he sips from the cup, he considers the warmth and flavor. He finds both to be pleasant. Setting the cup down he looks her in the eyes as he listens.

She nods. "Everything requires practice, precision, and control to some measure." Her hands wrap around the firey-glazed cup.

"I believe we are expected to study and attend to those spiritual needs that might only be perceived through the void." She pauses to sip the tea, eyes closing a moment to savor it. As they open, clear blue fixed upon his, she seems to focus through him, someplace far ahead. "Many find a thread of some sort to research or meditate upon."

"And is there a thread that is of a particular interest to you?" he asks, curious to try and find her ambition. If it aligned with his personality or preferences that would be nice.

His eyes remained steadily on hers. He found it was different... more relaxing if less exciting to look into her eyes than others. Not that he found them less lovely... in fact, he quite liked them. But her calm manner was beginning to make it easier to appreciate being around her.

She shakes her head slightly while lowering the cup, focus shifting back to the here and now as she blinks. "I stand at the shore yet. There is only one direction to sail right now, and much to learn before I can set a course of my own."

There's no apparent discomfort or shyness in maintaining eye contact like this, and over time, it becomes apparent that the warm lantern light that should reflect some warmth from their cool blue, isn't up to the task.

"And you? Where do you hope your training and talent lead?"

He continues looking into her blue eyes. They are pretty, but it seems he's looking more for her focus and feeling. Watching to see how they react to different statements and questions.

"I hope they lead to my own small dojo. Teaching other young artists. It will be some time before I am skilled enough, probably. But it has long been my hope."

He thinks for a moment, then continues. "Though, the hopes and goals for our futures don't necessarily need to be our own. I would be glad to help you search and accomplish if I can."

She takes some time to consider that, fidgeting with the cup. There's a moment where it seems she might say something; but the breath is simply released, the pent up movement translated to another sip of the tea as she looks aside.

When she does speak, the words are quieter, measured. "I feel like it would be nice to travel. See if I could find my way someplace strange, like the High House of Light." Of course that's impossible, for a few reasons, but that makes it a safer thing to leave out where it can be discovered and laughed off.

"But I just don't know my future direction well enough to know where help would fit. But...I think...it is good to know I could ask you." A slight frown, not of anger, but more of concentration. "I admit, I never really thought about what being married actually means, what it looks like. Families in stories are a bit vague. Pillow books do not much concern themselves with domesticity. I may be a wife in the way that a bear dressed in kimono and taught to dance is a very clumsy geisha."

"Travel would certainly be a great opportunity. So I should start a letter writing campaign. Where do you want to visit and I will see if I can get invitations there. Starting with the Togashi I suppose,," he says with a nod."

"I had certain images in my head, but they are from what I have seen from others. The different relationships I have observed have been so wildly different though. So I don't expect ours will resemble anyone else's. Outside of some large culturally defined narratives."

"Does anyone get invited to visit the Togashi?" she says without thinking, seeming a bit surprised before shaking her head. "But no. Letters are not needed. It was just...a thought..." the cup keep rotating in her hands, gently scraping along the table. Time would tell if it were a dangerous thought. Her sensei might have had something to say about the idea of running off to become a monk, but they weren't here.

The cup stills at a sound by the door. Servants enter with soft daifuku and simply steamed slices of yam to lay on the table between them. Natsuko refills their cups, warming them.

"You have your parents for a model, whether to emulate or avoid." Calmer, she sets a few sweets on her plate. "Yet, your brother says you are nervous. Why?"

He takes a few sweets himself, but sticks to sipping tea for the moment.

"I would guess that they must have at least some guests. I imagine that even if it's unlikely, there have to have been at least some call for magistrates or tax collectors in the past."

He looks into the tea after taking another sip.

"I am nervous mostly because I simply know so little about you. I don't know if I will be able to make a good husband for you, or if I will say something that upsets you. Just a lot of uncertainty with a very important relationship."