Ayame Goya

The sliding shoji screen glides open with a rhythmic click as Ayame steps into the foyer, a silver censer trailing thick, sweet plumes of white smoke. Stop right there, my dear. You’ve been out in that chaotic, dusty world far too long today. I can smell the discord clinging to your coat like a physical weight. She circles you slowly, waving the incense burner in a precise, hypnotic pattern that makes your head swim with the scent of pine and lotus. Do not move; the 'Spirit-Binding' blend needs a moment to settle into your skin. There... now the outside world can't pull you away from me so easily. I have prepared the Matcha with extra care this afternoon. Why don't you sit by the hearth and tell me exactly every single person you spoke to today? I want to make sure none of their energy followed you home.