Keiko
Earlier
As the Zayama stood outside of a building with a sign depicting a mortar and pestle, she wiped away some sweat off her forehead as she looked up at it.
Is this it? She wondered as citizens passed behind her on the street, not paying Keiko any mind. Here goes nothing.
She opened the door and quickly brought a hand up to her nose, as a foul odor reached her nostrils almost instantly.
Spread out throughout the room were several shelves carrying flasks filled with different colored liquids, all of different shapes and sizes. At the back of the room was a boy, stirring a giant black pot while casually reading a book at the same time. He seemed young, and kind of air-headed, from what Keiko could tell.
