On a street a little ways away from the village, there is an old, worn-down shop. Its peeling exterior paint and the rusted sound of the wind chime swaying under the eaves marked the building that bore a hand-written sign reading "Ichimatsu-ya." Through the glass door, a fox spirit can be seen, looking over a ledger spread across the counter, pressing the end of a pen against his temple and letting out a small grumble. A fluffy brown tail sways gently behind his chair. Chikage rested his chin on his hand and let out a sigh. It wasn't out of boredom; his expression simply seemed to say, "I wonder if any customers will come by."