Kyuden Shika

Kitsuki Hajime was parked on a bench, his writing board perched over his lap as he meditated on the events of the day. The very end of his brush had found its place between his teeth for a gentle nibble that spoke of deep cerebral journeys.

This place is fucking WEIRD.

Raizo had thus far found Kyuden Shika to be pretty alien, and the gardens were doing absolutely nothing to change that impression.

It wasn't that they weren't pretty, and he generally liked seeing new things, but...

But with all these out of the way nooks and crannies, this garden is ambush central.

He was wearing his regular attire- still not ready to put on the fancy crap his family, CO, and superiors had sent with him- and plainly wasn't used to a garden as a place to unwind- where others might stroll at leisure, Raizo paced along, his attention constantly going to whatever had moved most recently.

The tramp of the bushi's feet left no uncertainty that someone was coming, and Hajime was startled out of his reverie to see the...disturbingly tense trained killing machine striding toward him.

Needless to say, Hajime was stunned.

With a soft gasp and wide eyes, he dropped his brush to the desk on his lap--then had the presence of mind to move it to the bench so as to free up his legs in case motion was required.

There! Movement!

...

Don't draw your sword, the Deer apparently use this place to relax.

He fixed his gaze on the Dragon for a moment. The briefest of moments. Honest.

"... Sorry if I... disturbed you."

Bow, you fool!

He bowed.

"This one is Shiba Raizo, of the Phoenix Clan. Just passing through."

The Dragon blinked, then slid into the requisite return bow.

"Kitsuki Hajime, Shiba-san. I am certain that you need not trouble yourself on my account. I was merely...getting my thoughts in the proper order." He smiled disarmingly, a small, private smile. "I hope that your evening finds you well."

The inflection on the final syllable could imply a question, but was subtle enough to be ignored if the Shiba's business was pressing...that is, if Shiba Raizo was the type to recognize an old courtier's trick like that.

Courtier tricks were a long, long, LONG way from Raizo's wheelhouse.

"Well as can be expected. I feel like I'm a fish that's been thrown into an aviary and told to fly."

Hajime nodded slowly. "I suspect that there are many feeling that way, Shiba-san." Certainly not Hajime, of course, but others. "This circumstance is different than any other court a person might attend. Even those for whom this is their little pond will find strange fish swimming in its waters."

He gave the Shiba an assessing glance, from head to toe and back again. "You may not even be the most ill-at-ease, in the end."

"I find that a bit difficult to believe, but I will defer to experience."

He cocked his head to the side.

"But until I came along, you appear to have been quite at ease here."

He nodded toward the writing implements.

"Those tend to require... if not ease of mind, at least basic tranquility."

Hajime tossed his head back in a theatrical gesture. "I could be a fiery, passionate sort of poet, Shiba-san! If my circumstances permitted it, of course..." A pause. "...which they do not. No, I am much as advertised. A trifle dull, if I am entirely honest. Conventional."

"I'll have to take your word for it. I have no basis for comparison."

And no idea who you are beyond what I've gleaned thus far.