"Fold them! Do not stuff them like cheap turnips!"
Yuki's shrill, panicked voice echoed all the way down the stone corridor.
I walked into our bedchamber to find absolute chaos. Yua, my cheerful attendant, was frantically trying to pack three massive wooden trunks. Rin was sitting on top of one of the closed trunks, kicking her feet, while Yuki hovered exactly two inches off the floor, tearing at his fluffy white hair.
"That is ocean-blue Kamakura silk!" the twelve-year-old cat-boy shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at a pile of fabric. "It took three weavers a month to dye! If you wrinkle the lapel, I will curse your tea to taste like mud for a decade!"
"I am folding it as fast as I can, Lord Spirit!" Yua squeaked, desperately smoothing out the impossibly long sleeves.
"You're just being annoying because you don't want to go back to the capital," Rin pointed out, taking a bite of a dried apple slice.
