Ernest
It had been some time since Atsuko made her little pact with Agasha Kokuto. And in the interim between their meeting and her ability to make good on it, it seemed that summer had truly arrived. Her trek took her away from the river and its cooling flow of air, and out into the Noble Quarter, though to a part of it that was not half so splendid as others. The Dragon had always been a clan that paid little enough mind to materialism, so it stood to reason that their embassy would match that ascetic belief. A funny thing, given the amount of koku she had to part with to get her hands on the texts she had volunteered to retrieve. 

But if one was going to do something, then they ought to do it right, and by the reassurances of the merchant from whom she purchased—and she had never known Samara to be particularly dishonest, if a tad mercenary—the duo of books wrapped carefully in her hands was quite the find in far off Rokugan. From the little perusing she did, the subjects within were a ghastly thing for the Rokugani people, who shied away from matters of blood beyond warfare. Something told her that Agasha Kokuto would not mind so very much, however.

Ascending the stairs with an eagerness to escape the heat of the outside, Atsuko found her way through the doors of the embassy grounds and into the sitting room. As it had been when she visited with Chiyoko in tow, the entrance was devoid of living souls, though significantly more ordered than it had been months prior. Clutching the bundle of literature to her chest, she peeked around the corner of both halls leading deeper into the diplomatic hub of the Dragon and, finding her courage, called out.

"Excuse me? Is anybody here? I have a delivery for Agasha Kokuto-sama!"

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Brian
Summer had arrived and with it a heat the Agasha alchemist was seldom formally prepared for. Kokuto had dispensed with proper clothes for the clothes of a smaller servant, material rolled up to show off arms and legs and loosened around midriff. The lengths she had been going to avoid getting hot had scandalized the servants, ashigaru, and maybe even her fellow clanmates. She had set aside experiments involving most volatile components for a cooler time, but she had forgotten to clear out a few final jars. She was reminded of this oversight in noisy, and violent, fashion as she attempted to beat the heat her own way.

#

Atsuko's call for the apothecary's location was answered with a cracking boom that sounded throughout the embassy. A middle-aged monk smiled kindly at the rōnin as he left the room he had been meditating in. "The Lady Agasha will be at the center of that," He answered as he left to find quieter accomodations for his contemplations, unconcerned about what the continued booms and cracks meant.

The first jar shattered as she sat on the edge of the outer walkway fanning herself from the heat, feet dangled into a cool bucket of water. She jumped, splashing water everywhere. The next one shattered with a softer sound, though still easily heard throughout the embassy. Another sounded as she jumped to the storage shed, bare shod and half naked as she was. It was like that Atsuko found her, dancing about the shed with Kota in silent attendance as they tried their damnedest to avoid the complete destruction of her jarred experiments and the broken shards sent flying.
Ernest
The sudden shattering, distant though it was, nearly caused Atsuko to jump out of her haori. Though she clutched the books to her chest with her off-hand, the other reflexively hovered over the hilt of her blade. A good thing the man who appeared shortly thereafter seemed a particularly placid sort of fellow. She did *Not* Need to explain to her superiors why she had drawn on an unarmed monk in the middle of his own embassy. And just as soon as he appeared, he vanished again, leaving her with little more than a few cryptic words regarding her ultimate destination. 

At least it was a fairly easy destination to find.

Following her ears, Atsuko made her way deeper into the Dragon's complex, and eventually outdoors, flinching a little less with every loud 'pop' and subsequent shattering. She caught sight of the familiar Agasha not too long after, scurrying hurried around what looked to be a shed. Whether she was the cure or the cause of the noise, the ronin could not say. It was probably best to call out to her all the same.

"Agasha-sama? It's ah, it's Atsuko, from the bookstore," She held up the bundle of books to try and jog the shugenja's memory as she got closer, "I brought you some of the reading material we discussed."

It was none of her business what the Dragon got up to on their embassy grounds, truthfully, and yet Atsuko had a naturally curious disposition. She couldn't help but tilt her head to try and get a better glimpse at just what was causing all the ruckus, regardless of Kokuto's hurried attempts to soothe it through shards of flying glass and who knew what else.

"You know, if you ever find yourself in need of glassware in the near future, there's been talk of setting up a local supplier. I could probably source some replacements for your... Erm... Work."

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Brian
A head tilt showed the thin line of red growing on a smooth white cheek. Kokuto blinked at the rōnin. "Ah! Books! Yes! The-the," She stuttered for a moment but was saved by one final booming shatter. She turned back to the shed and shouted at it, "Are you done?!" Silence greeted her, then something shifted and the gentle sound of more fired clay crackled as a final quip. 

Her shoulders drooped with the sigh she expelled. "Ah well. Kota, be letting it air before cleaning. No sense getting drunk off fumes," She told the silent, still slightly cowering assistant. Indeed the acrid smell of harsh medicines was overpowered by the reek of fermentation. The apothecary muttered something about the earth spirits getting quite drunk that day before she turned fully to look at Atsuko.

She smiled and cracked the angry red line that marred her cheek. Fresh blood oozed slowly to the surface. Over her shoulder, the shed dripped multicolored liquids from bamboo shelves. The wet plop of plant matter falling from the ceiling to an intact jar sounded over the steady plinking and soft thunking of dripping liquid and falling clay pieces. Most of the destruction centered around an empty space at the bottom where a couple of large clay jars had been; flying shards had broken several others. "Glasswares? Tonbo Glasswares be the best. This one has contract with," She cheerfully piped, completely unconcerned with revealing she tended to break a lot of glass.

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