With Tōfū arrived, the eccentrics who frequent the master's house are more or less assembled. If not all, then at least enough of them to break the monotony for a while. To ask for more would be asking too much. Had I by some misfortune ended up elsewhere, I might well have, to the end of my days, never have known even one such scholar to exist among all of humanity. Happily, as master Kushami's prized cat, I pass my days in the service of these nobles. It's a rare honor to observe, in comfortable repose, the words and deeds of a company of great men. There's the master, of course, then also Meitei, Kangetsu, and even Tōfū, the likes of which are unrivaled and few and far between in this vast expanse that's Tōkyō. Owing to these men, I can forget for the moment the heat of the day and this stifling layer of fur. Owing to their presence, an agreeable half day awaits. With this company assembled, there's no telling what may arise. In humble anticipation, I survey the scene, half hidden by the fusuma.
"It's been a while. Forgive me for not calling sooner," Tōfū offers his greeting with a slight bow. His face is ever handsome and radiant. Judging him from the neck up, he could well be some second-tier actor. Then again, the overt formality of his stiffly-starched white Kokura-weave hakama suggests an apprenticeship to the master swordsman Sakakibara Kenkichi. In summary, only from shoulders to waist is he unassuming in appearance. "Good of you to brave this heat. Come in and make yourself at home." Meitei plays the host, as if the place were his own. "I haven't seen you in a good spell." "How long's it been? I believe it was the spring recital. Speaking of recitals, how's that going? Are you still playing the courtier? You were most impressive. I hope you noticed my hearty applause." "I did indeed. Your encouragement carried me through." "When is your next event?" the master chimes in to query Tōfū.