Part I - Summer (Middle) - "... 'What are we doing today?' ..."

The question came, every day, without fail:

"… What are we doing today?"

Which had started as a callback, of course, to Cameron's "What are we doing tomorrow?" on the engawa that first night, initially out of a genuine, practical desire to know, er … well, exactly what the question stated, obviously; but it quickly evolved into an in-joke between the young couple, with the daily requisite raising of the question itself taking on all sorts of silly affectations, such as strange made-up accents and unnecessary flourishes (M: "I do declare, Lord Callihan, what-ever shall we do today?"; or, C: "Oh, Nocturne-sama, do pray tell, how do you propose we spend the hours of the day to come …?") …

… The answer to which increasingly irritating (to Heinrich, at least … "Gee, I sure wish I had somebody to make stupid inside jokes with …"—though ultimately his scowls always failed to withstand Miyu and Cameron's playful teasing: "Awww, is Mr Ambergwis feeling gwumpy …?" "You shouldn't frown so much, H-dawg, you'll get wrinkles …", and he would inevitably crack a smile and go join them for whatever activities they decided on that day …) refrain remained the same each time:

"Whatever we feel like doing."

And even if, like the question it aimed to answer, this response varied a little bit each day (… "Whatever we want to!" … "Anything our hearts desire!" … Or, if they were feeling particularly fired up that day: "Whatever we damn well please!"), the sentiment behind it never changed: The village of Lazumere, the vast forest that led up into the mountains (M: "Like I said … they're just tall hills …"), the endless surrounding plains, the lake nearby—all of it was theirs, for them to explore each day, and make their own.

And with the list of activities Miyu had written down in her rabbit-themed notebook, they hardly found themselves wanting for ideas.

They did go fishing by Old Logan's Creek.
(Cameron: "You know, I've never actually been fishing. A lot of this is just … waiting around, huh?"
Heinrich: "Yeah, I guess so. It's like—HURRGHG."
Miyu: "Are … Are you okay, Heinrich?"
H: "Yeah, a … bug flew in my mouth.")

They caught beetles in the forest, and tried to see who could find the biggest one.
(Cameron: "Isn't this the kind of thing little kids do?"
M: "Who cares! It's fun, isn't it? And how'd that old saying go? 'Fun things are—' …"
H: "… '—freakin' awesome'!"
C: "No … I don't think that's how that goes …")

They ventured into a nearby cave, where crystals grew naturally.
(H: "So this is what crystals look like, in the wild …"
C: "This is new to you? Did you not pay attention in school …?"
H, tongue out: "Pfft, whatever. Not all of us are science geeks like you."
M: "We take from this cave, only when we need to … Mostly for ceremonies … Crystal in its raw form … Totally useless for machines and power unless refined, of course …")

They sat around a campfire at night, telling scary stories.
(H: "… And then, when he turned around, he saw the man again … but this time, he looked …"—screwing up his face horrifically—"… LIKE THIS!"
M, grabbing Cameron's arm: "Ee-eek!"
Yuka: "Miyu-Miyu, everyone's heard this story by now. There's no way you're actually scared …")

Occasionally, even Elegia Nocturne himself joined in on the fun.
(Cameron: "What's with the sunglasses and mask …?"
Miyu: "He does it to evade fan club members."
C: "Yeah, but … it's still clearly your brother. Who else has hair like that …"
Heinrich: "Aww, yeah! E-Noc is in DA HOUSE!"
Elegia: "Don't you dare call me that again."
H, to Miyu: "Your brother promised he would teach me how to be cool."
E, incommensurately offended: "I never said anything of the sort.")

Each night they came back home to fresh stew, and fragrant soups, as well as freshly-baked bread, courtesy of Miyu's mother; and after dinner Cameron always looked forward to his nightly soak.
(C: "Miyu, look! Look! I bathed! Are you proud of me?"
H, annoyed: "What are you, a grade-schooler?"
M, patting Cameron's head: "Ohh, well done! Yoshi-yoshi!"
H: "… Why are you encouraging him?"
E, to nobody: "I feel like there's been a role reversal here …")

On rainy days they stayed inside the Nocturne estate, listening to the gentle patter of the summer rain on the roof while they sipped on cold barley tea.
(C: "Why does it always smell so good when it rains?"
M: "That's what rain's supposed to smell like, city boy.")

Some days they stayed inside, for no reason at all. Cameron napping away the afternoon, Miyu helping her father with the garden. Heinrich sketching his impressions of their summer days, or working on one of his illustratively paneled narratives.
(Cameron: "There's gotta be a more concise name for this artistic medium."
Heinrich: "Concision, con-schmision. Anyway, this here is Cornelia Canterbury. This is my original content, so you better not think of stealing it."
C, annoyed: "… Why would I do that?"
H: "She can shoot laser beams out of her crystal gauntlets, and transform into a super-powered mode called Canterbury Darkness." Then, smiling wickedly: "And her cup size, you ask?"
C: "… I never asked that."
Miyu's mom: "Ara, what a cute drawing …"
H: "C-cute …? I was going for bad-ass …")

And of course, Miyu and Yuka showed their human guests around the whole of Lazumere—by the end of summer both Cameron and Heinrich were more than familiar with the dagashiya (M: "Closest thing there is to a convenience store in Lazumere. Even if it is mostly just snacks and candy …"), the old post office (Yuka, to Cameron: "You should've seen her last summer. She waited for your letters every day here." Miyu, embarrassed: "Stoo-op! It wasn't every day!"), and the school Miyu had attended.
(M: "Oh, it's the same school for all twelve years. Grade school, middle school, high school … It's just the one school building."
C: "What!? How big was the class?"
M: "Um … I think there was around nineteen of us?"
C: "N-nineteen …"
M: "And there's only three classrooms in total."
C: "Th-three …")

Precious memories, all of them.

So much so that, even in those bitter weeks, months (… years?) following the calamitous end of this Lazumerian summer—when Cameron Callihan lay muttering alone in his bed in Crystal City, oscillating night by night between self-righteous indignation ("What did I do wrong? Nothing. Nothing at all. Hope you have a nice life, Miyu Nocturne.") and haunting regret ("I'm sorry. I wish I could tell her that. Just that. Nothing else …")—these memories never lost their lustre in his head. They would continue to comfort him, to fill him with the same warmth, the same sense of contented bliss that he had felt when he first experienced them. When he lived them.

… The persistent untaintedness of which memories continued, perhaps, to surprise him (future-Cameron), whenever he found himself lost in post-Summer recollections.

Because, if he really examined those memories which he held so dear—put them under some serious scrutiny—wouldn't he be able to find, woven within them, hints and stirrings of what was to come?

Weren't the very Seeds of that summer's collapse sown within them?

Like … Seed Number One: Wasn't the elderly lady behind the dagashiya counter herself an Instance-Giver? Miyu's old teacher, too? And the friendly post office clerk? … Sure, maybe his exact accounting of their respective Instances was shaky—(was it the dagashiya-san who commented on how gloomy Miyu used to look? … or was that her old teacher? … No, no, no, the teacher's Instance was commenting on how much Miyu laughed now compared to back then …)—but they all shared a common implication, and that was that Miyu was Different, capital D, from what she used to be. … Before she met Cameron … That same Old Miyu (or Miyu Prime, or Miyu OG, or Miyu MK I, or however you wanted to call her) immortalized in the oil painting in the estate's hallway …

… Who was she? And where had she gone? … Why did she leave? … And why didn't Cameron know her?

Seed Number Two: How many light-hearted (and not so light-hearted) complaints did Yuka make about her upcoming wedding, during all those carefree summer days? ("Ughhh … I'm not even going to be able to read at night anymore!" Miyu: "Yuka-tan, you don't read at all …" Yuka: "That's not the point …") Did Cameron ever take them seriously? … Before it was too late?

And lastly, perhaps most crucially, Seed Number Three: How many times did Miyu have to excuse herself for priestess duties? How many summer activities were spent Miyu-less because she had to don her robes, and pick up her staff, and head to the Reliquary? O-or other places he wasn't even allowed to know about? … And how many times did Miyu refuse his attempts to try and accompany her to her duties? ("Sorry … It's … You're not really allowed to go up there, Cameron … You understand, right?" … With each refusal Cameron unable to help feeling like it was personal, that she was shutting him out of a large part of her life, despite her apologetic tone …)

… Okay, fine. So we've established that the cracks were always there, even during what Cameron would've considered the happier, first half of that summer.

So, then, when exactly did everything start to go wrong? What was the turning point?

It wasn't an easy question to answer. And even future-Cameron would flip back and forth on the exact point in time.

But if you held him down, twisted his arm, and forced him to choose one, then he supposed it would've been sometime after that trip to Embervyl … maybe even during the actual trip itself …