Outings

After her uncle's injury, it got even harder for Miyori to ask Noa questions. 

Any questions at all, really. He kept shrinking away from them.

"How was your day?" got a neutral, "Fine." Questions about what he'd been up to got the most random answers—answers that somehow only left her less certain than before she'd asked. 

One day Noa came home a couple of hours after Miyori did, covered in dirt. He just said he'd been landscaping. 

Another day, he walked with a limp. He just said he'd pulled a muscle and left it at that, but Miyori couldn't help but wonder.

She'd made a copy of their key for Noa, so it didn't matter so much when he came and went, and he was taking full advantage of that. Some days she didn't see when he got home at all. 

The change in his demeanor had come on quickly, but then again, maybe it wasn't surprising. After all, he'd never come out and told her why he'd run away from home, either. 

It was more like his tendency to keep secrets had escalated. 

Miyori wasn't too pleased about it, but there wasn't much she could do, beyond try not to push Noa too hard. So she talked about other things and tried not to press him too much. 

She told him about that business card and the company, though. That, he had plenty to say about. 

"I keep seeing that design," he said. "Or I think I do—I don't always get the chance to double-check. It's just here and there. It's not always made of the same stuff—sometimes it seems like it's just regular paint, or even just a pen or carving. But it keeps showing up. Do you have any idea what it means?" 

Miyori had to admit that she didn't. Shizuka hadn't known, either. 

"I'll try looking it up in the library sometime," Noa promised. "Unless you'd rather do it with me, after school?"

"Maybe," she said, "But they're also holding an event on Friday—some sort of block party, maybe? I was thinking of going with Shizuka-chan, since she's the one who told me about it. I don't suppose…?" 

Noa frowned. "Friday, you said? After school?"

"In the evening." 

His expression shuttered. "Oh. Well. I'm going to be busy then. I've got a job." 

"Oh," she said, and knew better than to ask questions. "I'll let you know how it goes, then. Just…be safe." 

He promised her he would, and that was the end of that conversation. 

*** 

The day of the party arrived before either of them had any more definitive answers. 

Miyori got home to find that downstairs was empty of everything but Noa's things, tucked as neatly as ever in the corner. She took the opportunity to freshen up, brushing her hair and tying it neatly at the back of her head. Then she put on a bit of makeup with the assistance of a hand mirror she'd picked up at a flea market a few months back. 

She was grateful that there wasn't makeup allowed at school—it was one less thing to worry about. But standards out in the real world—the business world—were harsher. 

Because yes, she was curious about what was going on with those magical symbols. But this company—this Iseki Conglomerate—claimed it was seeking out new, young talent. And Miyori had agreed to attend human school specifically so she might run into opportunities like this one. 

She'd agreed to meet Shizuka at her house so they could travel together. When she rang the bell, Shizuka appeared immediately—in a lovely pink yukata, with her hair in a magically-shiny updo. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then Shizuka bit her lip. "Oh, I knew it. This is too much, isn't it? I can change—but I don't want to make us late…" 

"No, you look incredible!" Miyori rushed to reassure her. "And it is a party. I just…" 

Didn't have any fancy clothes in the right size, for one thing. Honestly, dressing up beyond a bit of makeup hadn't even occurred to her. 

"I don't have any great professional outfits yet," she settled on. "And I'm not cute like you are, Shizuka-chan. So I decided to keep things simple, that's all." 

Shizuka shook her head in disbelief. "Next time we do one of these, come over early. I'd love to dress you to the nines, Miyo-chan. You don't give yourself enough credit—you're way cuter than you realize." 

Miyori blushed. She and Shizuka had their differences—very different backgrounds being the biggest ones—but this was why they'd managed to stay friends over the past year. "You're too nice to me." 

"Not even a little bit." Shizuka stepped out the door, taking her arm. "You really look fine like this, too, you know. I just…well. I always love an excuse for a party!" 

Miyori smiled. "Hopefully this event will have all kinds." 

"That's the spirit." Shizuka pointed dramatically at her own front gate. "Onwards!" 

And so they went—watching the sun start to pinken the far horizon on the train across town, double- and triple-checking the map to make sure they went the right way, and right up to the front gate of the event. 

It was set up in a side street, and impossible to miss—there were people milling about out front, slowing down the vehicles in the cross-street. 

The line for the entrance stretched for half a block, but it moved fast. 

It was made up mostly of young people, wearing everything from streetwear to festival attire to uniforms. (Miyori was grateful to see that she and Shizuka both fit right in.) Then there were older folks—some retirees with walkers and grandchildren, some professional people in suits. It really had all kinds.

But, Miyori noted, it was also all humans. At least, everyone in line with them seemed to be. 

Probably that meant nothing. They were pretty far from any pixie neighborhoods Miyori knew about. And besides, maybe there were some other pixies blending in, just like she was. 

But Miyori never completely forgot about things like that. Her uniform shirt tingling against her wingles shoulder blades, the continual strain of magic that sometimes threatened to cramp—it didn't really let her forget. 

This gathering wasn't really meant for people like her. 

Even so, though, she felt herself get excited as they reached the front of the line—as she paid the admission fee with human coins she'd gotten changed in advance, and they stepped onto a path lined with booths. Chatter and the smell of festival food filled the air, and music played faintly in the distance.

Maybe this Wisteria Project hadn't been designed with Miyori or her kind in mind, but her misgivings weren't going to stop her jumping right in to see what the fuss was about.