"You must be the Bohito guest. Come in," the tailor walked a few steps backward into his little workshop and beckoned, "The whole Bagen thanks your service. Kyle had been an invisible tumor for many years." He turned around and scampered to his workbench. On his workbench, there were heaps of fabrics in sundry colors positioned against the wall and a blazer in the center of the workbench.
Not knowing how to respond, Akki just started with what he was here for, "I heard you have my kimono. Well, coat and skirt—"
"Yeah, here," the tailor instantly ran across the whole workshop to the oak wardrobe stacked on a set of birch drawers at another corner. Suddenly, the room fell into darkness. The door was closed, and there wasn't a window inside the workshop. "The rune must be out of magic. It will be great if you go recharge it for me," the tailor pointed at the stone board hanging next to the pillow on his bed. The symbol on the stone board was a small circle with eight lines surrounding it. The line at the top was the longest, and the one at the bottom was the shortest. The length of the lines decreased proportionally til the two lines next to the bottom one. Those were half the length of the top one, and the bottom line was only one-fifth of the top one. It was easy to tell that this was a symbol of light, but the technique to make them was only held by the Northlings living on tundra.
Akki strolled to the board, which was about the size of his palm, after a sigh. His left fingers were slowly placed on the symbol. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the attachment with the engraved symbol. When he reopened his eyes, the blue shimmer of the symbol had turned bright and white, scattering in the narrow workshop.
"Ta-da," the tailor uttered as Akki turned toward him. The tailor was holding the haori by nipping the tips of the shoulders. Akki's haori used to be solid-colored without any pattern. Yet, the one in the tailor's hands was patterned with vertical and horizontal stripes in warm yellow. The warm yellow and pinkish-red matched perfectly on the renewed coat, giving Akki a snug vibe just by appearance.
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"I thought plain red was a bit boring, so I sewed these leather on," the tailor handed the cloth to the stunned ronin before him.
Spending a few seconds to process the situation, the ronin wore the haori on, stammering, "Th, thank you." He carefully fondled the leather stripes, staring at it. His mind went back in time. The last time someone made him anything was when his mom sewed him the dragon doll. It was also made of leather. He would be carrying it if he didn't leave it to his little brother.
"I didn't really know how to decorate your skirt, so here it is. Clean and spotless," the tailor hurried to the drawers and took out the hakama.
Wearing the haori and hakama outside the tunic and trousers, Akki stood in front of the cabin, "Thank you. I don't—"
"I hope you enjoy your day," the tailor closed the door before the ronin could reply. Akki ambled out of the manor, rejoicing in his renewed kimono. He sauntered out of the metal railing of the manor back to the street. Rambling in the town, Akki saw the carpenters having their stores opened and butchers hanging their meat on metal hooks. The town was functioning just like it used to. Nobody was scared or slightly affected by what happened last night. Perhaps the family that got their roof and balcony ruined was the only family troubled by the incident. The untouched liveliness of Bagen had Akki chuckling along the way. He knew that the town would only become better without that corrupted accountant stealing wealth from everybody. Akki could almost see how much bigger the town would grow in the future. The vision alone was enough of a reward to the traveling ronin. It was about the only thing that could send a cheer down his throat.
He wandered through the market square, where mothers were gathering before cabbage stalls and bakers were buying bundles of wheat. A wooden poppet was next to a stack of kites. A bunch of kids bumped into Akki from the back, holding wooden sticks and mud. Behind them, a muscular yeoman, riding on his ox, was loudly cursing at the crowd so that his ox cart filled with carrots could get through. Little did he know that a thin-as-lath pickpocket had just stolen one of his carrots as he walked past. The ronin was not going to stop the man from stealing one carrot. He did believe in justice, but he also gave passes to these harmless petty crimes.
Eventually, the sturdy young adult stopped in front of the Inn of Helan, hesitating. Then, he entered the door and ordered a beer mug while preventing the innkeeper from apologizing. Akki understood the power of authority. He wouldn't blame anyone for bowing.