There were peonies covering an area of about ten tsubo. It was too early in the summer for them to be in bloom. At the edge of this field of peonies was an old bench. Sensei stretched himself out on it. I sat down on the end and began to smoke. Sensei gazed at the sky, which was so blue that it seemed transparent. I was fascinated by the young leaves that surrounded me. When I looked at them carefully, I found that no two trees had leaves of exactly the same color. The leaves of each maple tree, for instance, had their own distinctive coloring. Sensei’s hat, which he had hung on top of a slender cedar sapling, was blown off by the breeze.
The Master is pretty cool in that generic CLAMP floppy absentminded douche archetype. But man, just look at Kurogane’s face - I am truly sorry I keep bringing this up but their interactions are really good.