Time check: Afternoon. Today, Masami skipped his daily morning routine and went straight to the windmills with packed lunch and garments. He danced from morning until afternoon, making sure that he was still accompanied with a fragment of culture in Joya. It would hurt him to realize that he had strayed too far away from where he came from, from where he belonged, and because prevention is better than cure, he had dedicated those few hours to culture. Of course, it wasn't just mere dancing. There was meditation and prayer, thanksgiving for today until tonight's blessings. Masami didn't stop until he finally lost balance, tumbling backwards and catching his breath. He had only felt the tiredness now, and it felt great to feel the melancholic exhaustion just like before.

He didn't notice being this near to the windmill. He came here because they, the townspeople, mentioned that it was windy around this area, and they weren't lying about it. So when he sat and relaxed his shoulders, he couldn't help but become overwhelmed by the view. The windmill was tall and gigantic, and it's amazing how the rest of the windmills had equal measurements. "Ah, right." he expressed loudly, running back to the small leather bag he came along with, taking out a face towel to wipe his sweat off of his face and neck. It would be bad if the liquids air-dried on his skin, better safer than sorry.

Come to think of it, although it was Masami's first time in Marigold City (or in the whole Fiore, in that case) but he had already encountered many interesting people. There was a lolita-girl who walked around in strange clothes, and a humorous Sinese man Masami liked to tease, not to mention two very bewitching ladies who are very capable in general. Masami loosened his haneri to push some air in, thinking about the things he needs to accomplish for today until tomorrow. He scratched his left cheek, still not used to having the guild mark tattoo'd upon his face. Would people in Joya find it odd if Masami came back with a weird symbol on his face? Rather, are they willing to accept it? After all, Joya is a very strict country, in terms of culture as well. He would like to be trained by a fighter with experience but everyone else's got their schedules settled up. A loose atmosphere, unlike in the crowded and workaholic Joya, Masami couldn't help but slightly dislike his unproductive days upon Fiore.

The voice of someone familiar, or something of similar. Masami turned his head to see the person who spoke, only to become slightly disappointed. Not that he was expecting a specific someone, but he was overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of the speaker. Masami got goosebumps over the greeting, slightly finding it odd for a stranger to approach him. The man had a different appeal, very far from the Sinese he had become acquaintances recently. In sudden awkwardness, Masami scratched his left cheek once more, the location where the new guild tattoo was marked. He couldn't help but feel insecure over the mark, not to mention that it was permanent. The fact that the man would greatly see the obvious mark made Masami place his palm over half of his cheek, hiding half of the guild tattoo.

"Are you a brethren?" he asked, in the language of Joya, only to see if the man understands. Right after a split-second of speaking, he changed his mind. Assuming that it was a rude thing to do, since he isn't even in Joya, after all, he quickly stood up and brushed the dirt off of his garments. "Ah, ah, you seem to have a good eye. Also, correct! Hundred-percent Joyan blood here." he uttered with a smile as he approached the man, keenly observing more as he closes their distance. He oddly felt safe, knowing that most of the people here are Fiorian or simply travelers, ignoring the fact that anyone could immediately come and attack Masami for a hunt.

The boy didn't feel anything suspicious about the man, considering his instincts (and feelings) instead of logic. Masami placed the face towel upon his shoulder, then his hands upon his waists. "Guess you're one of us?" although finding the question ridiculous, it was better than irrationally become jumpy over meeting someone from the same ethnicity. There were major differences if you'd compare the recent Sinese acquaintance from the man that stood in front of Masami. Like a Joyan, Masami found the man appear strict, unlike the very humorously loose Sinese. It wouldn't be right to assume that it would be alright even if he acted overly casual. Masami is naturally proper and formal, after all.

"A-Ah!" Masami intentionally exclaimed to become casual; when his sleeve hung off of his shoulders, he immediately pulled this back up. Both of them were men, anyways, though people often assumed that he was a female due to his looks, he couldn't help but hide skin in insecurity. That act of pulling his sleeve back up is already quite feminine, and it made him internally scream at himself.

Coming back to Ko Lesalt, the man who just introduced himself, Masami gave thought and found it indeed odd. Lesalt wasn't a Joyan surname, at all, and Masami would even create complications in pronouncing the word. "Kita Masami, greetings." he would hold a hand out, but considering how sweaty his palms were just now, he discontinued. "Haha, I seem to be incapable of being clothed in non-Joyan garments. Intolerable, even if they were Joyan-inspired clothes or Joyan costumes." it also holds a sense of home, after all. Masami doesn't exactly know the reason why, but the fabric from other ethnicity felt strange. He couldn't simply put a shirt on without having two or more other layers. Masami would be a Joyan doll of clothing at this point.

"Why did you leave the land?" Masami felt more comfortable speaking in the Joyan language, though his speech may be found mostly odd if translated into the universal one. He could speak all-day, if he didn't have any self-made communication barriers created with the fear of being appealed as rude. All the scripts from the theater back in Joya were immediately coming back to him, from nostalgia. He could state exactly all those thousand lines, including the actions and expressions. Was this the effect of meditating through dancing? It seems as if he summoned another "one of his brethren," if he'd think of this in a magical way. Fiore circulates in magic, unlike in Joya. If Masami never left, he'd probably never realize that there was more than simply striking a fire through snapping his fingers.

Masami couldn't help but nod twice. "I understand." he responded to all of Ko's statements: the clothing, the land of Caelum, the reason why he traveled to Fiore and... when he asked Masami about Joya. The boy couldn't turn to look at Ko in the eye, so he had to gaze elsewhere such as the windmill or the sky, or the green grass that lay below his feet. He also quickly scanned what the man was wearing and thought that they wouldn't be as comfortable if Masami would wear the same. "Fortune?" Masami suddenly turned his head towards Ko and raised a brow. He seemed to be fond of the realization and had surprised himself. Could his scenario be similar to Masami's? What sort of fortune does he seek?

Masami had more than one reasons of his ventures away from Joya. Mainly, it was for escape – secondly, to find cure for his mothers' illness. Such illness was highly believed to be a curse, doctors nor nurses could only treat yet not completely cure the illness, no matter where they have come from or how good they were of doctors. Because magic, in this realm, exists, then Masami believed that it would be better if he ran off of Joya (considering that his hometown in Joya weren't so fond of magic) and go to a place where magic is used in their daily lives. "You believe that you can find that 'ere?" Masami suddenly forgot that he was speaking to one of his kind, switching to the universal language without his awareness. He had a very confused, comical-looking face stamped upon his head, leaning closer to the man in his disbelief.

The boy can't fight. If ever, he'd probably just be in the supporting lines. When he leaned towards the man, he had noticed how built he was, unlike Masami, whom has been performing in theaters ever since he was three years of age. He never considered fighting because their hometown depended on Joyan samurais for protection – Masami started to think if the man was a samurai himself. "You really believe in those?" his voice amplified and so as his pitch, leaning closer than he was earlier. Masami needed answers, immediately, then he can come back to his own business with the answers he'll earn from the man. If he was allowed to, then Masami would've been shaking the man's shoulders and forcing answers out of him – he was still a kid, after all.

If Masami were to be honest, he'd admit that he wasn't so surprised to hear money come out of Ko's lips. Money, or wealth in general, has always been crucial. However, what surprised him instead was when the question was brought back to him. Masami was thinking about Ko's fortune that he couldn't even think one for himself... but could fortunes be truly beneficial? Whether good luck or bad luck, anything related to luck had exchanges; if such exchange could cure Masami's mother, then would he even be ready for it?

The boy gave it an obvious thought, stepping on his tip toes then bringing his heels back to the ground. "Probably... nothing, yet." he chuckled afterwards and brushed the back of his head; he answered this instead of immediately making something up on-the-spot. Searching for a cure certainly isn't a fortune, if any means. "Well, nothing for me, I mean – then I wouldn't have left Joya if I wasn't looking for something in particular." he was picking the leather side back from the ground as he uttered these, laying the top strap around Masami's right shoulder, preparing for his leave.

"That's a story for next time. Gotta catch up to some people, I hope we meet again!" he lightly waved, his left palm directly facing Ko's face then Masami turned to his leave. Even after creating great distance between the two, Masami turned back to Ko and waved his left hand right up in the air, then taking a deep breath for a shout. "Don't forget my name!"