Up in the mountains, there was a little town. Once upon a time, it had been a little village. Its people lived a simple life, prosperous enough that most of the buildings were of modern make, though a few very old wooden structures still remained. In recent years, it was even quieter; the youth had moved to the city, leaving behind only the older folk and a handful of children.
A single dirt path wound up to the mountain's peak, once well worn but already showing signs of being reclaimed by the surrounding foliage. It led, among other things, to one of the few old structures left of the village--- a great wooden gate, and past that, a respectably sized shrine.
The shrine itself was nothing remarkable, save perhaps for its cleanliness, given its age. The stone floor was swept clean of dirt and leaves, and the offering box was in good shape, despite the chipped paint of the gate and the worn thatching on the roof. A pair of lion statues stood in front of the shrine, sitting proudly with their mouths open. Curiously, one was moss-covered and worn with age, hewn from a darker and smoother stone; the other was rougher, paler--- not new, certainly, but not as old as the other.
The shrine stood empty. No one came up the path and through the gates, to pray to the gods or give an offering.
"Man, this blows." A figure appeared at the foot of the gate, looking out at the path, blowing a disappointed sigh as he clocked the lack of traffic. He looked to be college age, a shock of blond hair and colorful clothes, completely at odds with his surroundings. "Don't they ever get bored, at least? No one even hikes anymore!"
What are you doing? Someone could see you.
The young man snorted. "Boy, I wish. You know no one comes here anymore."
That... The other voice fell silent for a moment. Still, that is no reason to traipse around in such garish clothes. And what have you done to your hair?
"Like it?" The young man turned around, seemingly grinning at one of the stone lions. "The butcher's son came home from college, and he had hair just like this! I thought I'd try it out."
You went into town again. The voice had an accusatory tone to it now. The young man smiled uneasily.
"No one knows," he said. More sullenly, he added, "No one even pays attention anymore anyway."
We have an image to maintain.
"Yeah? For whom?" said the young man. There was no heat in his words, only disappointment. That was the question, wasn't it? Waiting here all this time, watching the sun pass day after day... For what? For whom?
