At her family's blacksmith shop, Pipra paced back and forth, her petite frame brimming with an unusual energy. The rhythmic clanging of her father hammering away at a blade in the forge did little to calm her nerves. She glanced toward the shop's open doors, the bright afternoon sun pouring in, illuminating the street beyond.
Two days. It had been two days since Seiji had promised to meet her.
"That idiot," she muttered under her breath, crossing her arms tightly. "What could be so important that he'd forget?"
Her mind raced with possibilities, each one gnawing at her. Did something happen to him? she wondered, though the thought didn't settle her nerves. No, Seiji was too stubborn to let trouble catch him unprepared. But then, another worry crept in—one she didn't want to admit out loud. Did he forget about me?