Ren’ai didn’t want to do this. She didn’t care to do this. She didn’t feel as if this was in her job description. However, she had a promotion now – she was a Crew Leader, and this had more responsibility. Apparently, that also included playing errand girl for Ichiro. Usually, he or Ami did this, but now that they had her. Well, the Manager and Assistant Manager don’t need to do that, do they? This was her one day a week working a server – the rest of the time she was in charge, but still did work as a server on occasion. She pulled up in front of the onsen, sighing as walked up.

Ren’ai currently stood there in a white button-up shirt and black pants – the standard uniform for her restaurant. Her long, black hair was pulled into a ponytail at the base of her neck, and her makeup was lightly but perfectly applied. She still had to go into work, so she was hoping that she could get out of here. She could take her time – she had plenty of it, actually – but it would be nice to have to rush. She could only hope that could make some decent tips tonight – she made more now than she used to, of course, but she still needed to pay her bills.

Business was decent, but it had gone down lately. With everything going on – and with it being well-known that Watashi’s was owned by benders – there had been less people coming in. Things were still okay, and they still made money, but she knew his grandfather still wasn’t happy with the decline. She almost hadn’t spotted an old woman sitting on the porch, and it made her jump a bit. “Oh, hello there,” she said. This had to be owner. Ichiro had told her to look for an old woman. “I’m Ren’ai, I work for the Watashi’s. Ichiro sent me here to pick up the dessert for this month.”

"Over there." She gestured to the wool-covered box by way of introduction, the long pipe she held trailing smoke lazily with the motion. "Remind Ichiro that these need to be served at room temperature, but with the heat they need to stay on ice or refrigerated for as long as possible to prevent them from melting." Raising a greying eyebrow, she peered at the new girl sternly. "The old man did have a refrigerator put in, right?"

She had met the owner of Watashi's back when it was first established — this arrangement between the restaurant and the inn was between them, after all — but not everyone had hopped onto the electricity train as quickly as she; some people were still using old fashion ice boxes instead of refrigerators and she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the hesitance to move forward. A ryokan, she thought, had to keep up with all the latest innovations behind-the-scenes — the guests would be pleased with the classic, traditional experience of pre-electric heated rooms and water, but out of sight an okami and their staff had to be more efficient to preserve the integrity of the traditional experience.

Or at least, that's what she thought.

"Before you go though!" She stood, brushing the dust off of her pale green yukata and motioned for the young woman to follow her. She disappeared behind a curtained doorway for a brief moment before returning with a frosted brown bottle with a familiar label. "Have a cola," she said, extending the syrupy, carbonated drink and cracking a smile; the smile softened the hard lines of her face and made her look a bit more kindly. She had heard that bender-owned businesses were starting to be affected by the civil unrest between benders and nonbenders. Songbird's Rest wasn't among them, since both onsen and ryokan were something of an anomaly so close to a large city, but restaurants were a dime a dozen; she presumed that Watashi's would be similarly affected.

Feh. The young people these days didn't know how good they had it. She remembered what it was like growing up in occupied lands during the War. Despite being of Fire Nation descent, she was born in the colonies and back in the day the occupying forces didn't really care who was of Fire Nation heritage or not; they were all similarly colony scum. It was because of that hard-won peace that young people could bicker about whether or not bending was a gift to be recognised. Such petty squabbling! It wasn't even the problem, anyway — the problem was, as always, those who chose to abuse their power. The Triads for example, flexing their ill-gotten strength, or corrupt officials using their powers to intimidate civilians.

"Aiiish, what are you standing there for?" she waved the bottle at the new girl again, apparently oblivious that it had been her staring off into space. "Take it."

Ren’ai nodded, and turned to make her way towards the box until the old woman spoke again. “The old man?” Then it hit her. “Oh! You must mean Watashi Senior. Yes, he did – his son urged him to when he started managing the place. Watashi Senior hasn’t been active in the day-to-day running of the restaurants in quite a while. Mr. Watashi ran the place until the new restaurant was open – he and his wife moved to the new place and left Ichiro in charge of the original location.”

She wasn’t sure how much she had known, and found herself explaining before realizing that some people knew this information already – it wasn’t exactly a secret that a new location had opened across town. Then again, she hadn’t seemed to be aware that Ichiro’s grandfather was retired, so maybe she hadn’t just waited her time by rambling a bit.

The young woman was a bit surprised when she was offered a cola, but after a moment’s hesitation, she accepted it. “Thank you,” she said, opening it and taking a sip. She had needed a drink, so it would be good to wet her throat before you head off to work. She didn’t comment on the old woman’s comment about not taking the drink – she had only hesitated for a moment! – and she didn’t want to argue with her that it was her that had been staring off into space, so she just let it go.

She grinned as the new girl accepted the cola; it was a hot day and something about a chilled carbonated beverage always was refreshing. "Good, eh?" Nodding — seemingly to herself — she bustled about the front desk and wrote something on a piece of paper before folding it up and handing it to the new girl.

"There are four different types of wagashi in this month's box," she explained. "In keeping with the summer, there is a clear peach-flavoured kanten in the shape of a peach blossom with a floating petals made out of thinly sliced peaches. There is also a satsuma-flavoured daifuku in the shape of a leaf, melon-flavoured mizu youkan cut into bars, and green grape flavoured mizu manjuu in the shape of grape leaves."

The wagashi boxes weren't particularly heavy; she only made two hundred and forty of the small treats — enough for Watashi's to sell eight per day for the next month.

She sat with a content sigh on the wooden bench across from the new girl, smoking her pipe lazily. When the girl had finished her drink, she reached down and held out small tin waste bin.

"Feel like having some wagashi before you go?" she asked.

Ren’ai nodded. “Very good, yes, just what I need,” she replied. When the old woman handed her a note, she looked at it for a moment, before slipping into a pocket. She had no idea what this was, but she figured it was important or she wouldn’t have given it to her. She listened as the four different types were explained, making a mental note of each one so that she could explain it to Ichiro and Ami – if they were both still there – when she got back to the restaurant.

Ren’ai finished the last of her soda and noted that waste bin was being held out for her. “Oh, thank you,” she said, checking her watch to make sure that she still had plenty of time. Luckily, she had left early just in case she had trouble finding the place. Luckily, Ichiro had been pretty clear in the directions he gave her. This seemed like a nice place – maybe she would come back on her day off and check it out a bit more, when she had more time, of course.

Ren’ai was a tad surprised when she was offered a wagashi. “Sure, that sounds great, thanks,” she said. “Um, any particular flavor that you would recommend?” She didn’t normally eat the desserts – even though Watashi’s always had them – because she was always training or in a rush, and they were for the guests and not employees.

She grinned widely and nodded. "I'll be right back!" She disappeared behind the curtained doorway again and came back with a small plate; the peach kanten was placed artfully in the centre, the peach-shaped clear jelly showcasing the delicate peach "flower" petals beautifully. With another smile, she handed the plate and a long, thin bamboo spoon with a very small scoop over to the young woman and encouraged her to eat with a wave of her hand.

Then she sat in her seat again, taking another long draw of her pipe. Her expression radiated confidence: she had been making wagashi ever since she was little, and she knew that the kanten would be absolutely perfect and refreshing.

"When did you start working at Watashi's?" she asked after the young woman had a chance to taste her creation. "You've never picked up the wagashi order before."

It wasn't like Grandma knew the names of all of the employees at the restaurant, but she rarely forgot a face and this was a face she was certain she had never seen in this context before... and yet, there was something vaguely familiar about it that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

The peach kanten that was brought to her was absolutely beautiful, almost too beautiful to touch. She could see the old woman encouraging her to eat. Scooping a bit of it, and putting it into her mouth, the young woman gave a light moan. “Oh, this is so good,” she said. “I usually don’t eat them, because Ichiro wants to save them for the guests, and I shouldn’t be eating stuff like this anyway, but… it’s so good.” She gave another light moan before scooping up a bit more. She knew that should enjoy this more, but it wasn’t as if she had desserts all the time!

Ren’ai almost missed the question that she had asked of her. “Oh, about… three years,” she said. “I was never charged with coming here, though. It was usually Ichiro or Ami, I would imagine. I just recently got promoted, though, to Crew Leader, so Ichiro gave this duty to me.” The Firebender shrugged her shoulders. “I debated not taking the job, actually… With Probending, that has to be my priority, but… The money is better, and I like working there, for the most part.”

Ren’ai finished the kanten, handing the plate back to the old woman. “Thank you, that was delicious.”

Three years! She didn't like feeling out of the loop. Not that it could exactly be helped; she wasn't close with the restaurant owner, nor did she visit the establishment. She had her hands full running Songbird's Rest and there was no need to go to a restaurant when she had a full staff already.

Accepting the compliment on her kanten with a nod, she took another long draw of her pipe. The smoke curled around in the air gracefully when she exhaled, filling the air with a faint, heady scent of cloves. She accepted the plate, and another employee appeared as if from nowhere to take it. 

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she said once the employee disappeared behind the curtained doorway. "And thank you for humouring an old woman." She glanced at the clock on the wall; it had been nearly fifteen minutes since the young woman arrived, which was more than enough leisurely time. Plus, that ice wouldn't stay frozen forever in this heat, and by the golden hue of this woman's irises it was obvious she would be unable to help it along if it melted.

Standing, she held out her hand. "It was lovely to meet you, Miss...?"