Agreements

"You know," Shizuka said suddenly, "I had to sign something last time." 

It was Sunday, and Miyori had spent the previous Saturday at the Project Wisteria program doing everything she could. 

She'd stared at the map at the front of the room each time it appeared and sketched down as much of it as she could afterwards. 

She'd raised her hand to ask questions as often as she'd dared. At the end, she'd gone to talk to the program leader, Shimada, again. 

On the way home, she'd made a promise with Shizuka to hang out the next day. She'd then met with Koji and told him everything she could remember, the two of them writing down notes for hours and discussing next steps. 

Now, talking with Shizuka as they sat in the library, Miyori had been trying to think of a way to ask about the day before without repeating herself. But now Shizuka had brought it up first.

"Sign something?" Miyori asked. 

"Yeah. A non-disclosure agreement." 

Miyori's heart sank. "What did it say, exactly?" 

"I don't really remember?" Shizuka made a face. "They didn't give us a lot of time to read it. And they hardly ever let us take anything home. But…basically what it said was, I'm not supposed to talk about what we're studying anymore." She gave Miyori an apologetic smile. "I just wanted to warn you. Since you seemed really curious about it. Did they really not do that in your program?" 

"Not at all." Though now she wondered whether it was just a matter of time. "…Why do you think they did that?" 

"I'm not sure," Shizuka said. "I think they might be about to tell us something big. Or maybe it's just that we're moving from common knowledge to stuff they're still developing." She tilted her head to one side. "If you wanted, you could still ask if you wanted to switch programs?" 

"No, it's not that. The networking program is interesting." Or rather, she didn't want to give up the hints of geographic information she was getting—not when it was so useful. 

"Well. I just wanted to let you know that I can't talk about it anymore." 

Miyori stared down at her book. "Shizuka-chan…does it worry you? Any of the things they've been teaching so far, I mean." 

Shizuka shook her head. "You keep saying that, but I don't understand what it is you're worried about. Some of the theory is a little...eccentric, but it seems harmless. Good, even. I'd say they were a charity if I didn't know they weren't. They aren't trying to get rich or anything, as far as I've seen." 

Miyori swallowed. "That's true, I guess." 

"Miyo-chan…" Shizuka put a hand over Miyori's. Her hand was warm and soft against Miyori's slightly chilled fingers. "If there's something you're worried about, you know you can tell me, right?" 

But she couldn't…or could she? 

"Last month," Miyori said quietly, "part of my uncle's house collapsed." 

She laid out the story as well as she could. She had to lie and say she'd found the symbol without Noa there, but the rest she thought was safe to tell. 

When she was done, Shizuka was staring at her. "And so…you joined up for that? To find out if it was connected?" 

"That was part of the reason," Miyori said. "I've seen these symbols everywhere, Shizuka-chan. And weird things keep happening around them. I know it might seem paranoid, but I really think there's something to all this, and…I just want to know."

Shizuka looked away. "I see. You know…I wish you'd told me this a little earlier." 

Guilt burned in Miyori's throat. "I'm sorry." 

"Well…" Shizuka shrugged. "Thanks for telling me now, I guess. I can't promise I'll tell you if I see something strange—I already promised not to. But I'll keep an eye out. Okay?" 

Miyori smiled. "That's all I ask." 

It wasn't much to bring back to Koji—really, it was nothing. But it still felt like the right thing to do to put Shizuka at least a little on her guard against these people. 

*** 

The next week moved torturously slowly. 

If only it were summer, Miyori thought as she slogged through classes, she'd be able to spend all day tracking down Noa. But it wasn't summer yet—and even midterms had come and gone before she could have taken advantage of the half-days to get investigating done in the afternoons. 

Koji never mentioned what he did during the days when Miyori was at school. Probably working on other projects for his family, she reasoned, so she didn't ask. Instead, they met regularly, never at the same place twice, discussing their options over and over. 

Then one day, Miyori came home from school to a letter in the mail slot on her front door—a human-sized letter, one with her name on it and no return address. 

Inside was an address—a meeting point—and a request to set a date and time. Beneath that was a spell circle, the type that could transfer small amounts of information between two sheets of paper.

Miyori considered this, considered her planned meeting with Koji for the next day, and wrote in a time two hours after that. 

The circle gleamed for a moment, and then two words appeared at the bottom of the page: 

Thank you. 

It was an elegant spell—the kind that took a lot of effort and expensive materials to send. But there was no name or identifying information on the envelope anywhere. 

Miyori figured she would tell Koji about the change of plans the next day, and they could prepare for whatever the meeting might bring.