Mirai helped her to pin a number of the loose strands of his hair and clutched her wrist with his other hand. Then he brought her hand to his mouth, his hair falling across it, and then blew gently across the skin. It began to feel like something else might happen - but he did nothing.

The conversation was blooming quite nicely. That was reward enough. He took Miyume's hand in both of his own and returned it to the bench between them. He gave a glance to the row of archers below them, and then beamed a smile.