Form

The walk to the Iseki building felt longer than usual the next week. 

Part of that was that Shizuka really wouldn't talk with Miyori about the program at all anymore. She'd listen to Miyori talk about what she was doing, humming along to her observations, but that was it. 

Also, six days a week in human form instead of five was rougher than Miyori had been expecting. It was tiring, and it didn't help that Noa wasn't around to give her free food anymore. (Koji wasn't the sort of person who'd offer, and Miyori wasn't about to ask.) 

So she was tired and hungry. And that was without the stress of what she was going to try to do today, if she could get away with it. 

Rolled into a corner of her bag were a couple of tools that Sayaka had passed along, and also Koji's camera. If she had the chance to use them, Miyori was absolutely going to try—the sooner the better. She wouldn't put it past Iseki to start doing bag searches or something at some point. 

They got their name tags at the door as always, and Sayaka left for her room with a wave. Miyori was far from the first person in the Network room, but the seat she'd been hoping for was open: close to the front, but far off to one side, where hopefully very few people would be looking at her. 

Miyori went to the box at the front of the room and flipped through the files there until she found the one with her name. Not being allowed to take materials home with her was one of the greatest obstacles to her information gathering that she'd encountered so far. Her memory was good, but it wasn't perfect. 

But now she had tools that she hadn't before. 

She sat down with her notebook and opened her bag, pulling out her usual set of tools—and an extra few items, which she slipped into her skirt pocket. 

She was going to have to be very, very careful about this. 

Touching the device in her pocket, she went to open her folder, and—

It wouldn't open. Instead of the cover, the entire folder flipped onto its back side. 

It was also thicker than before. 

Confused, Miyori picked it up in both hands and tried again, but it was like the pages had been glued together. 

"Ah," said a voice. "Sorry about that, Ogimura-san." 

Miyori jumped and looked up. Shimada was looking at her with a slightly amused expression. 

"Your eagerness to get started does you credit," he said. "But I'm afraid that today, we'll need to do a bit of housekeeping before we can begin."

"Housekeeping, sensei?" 

"Yes," Shimada said. "I'll explain once everyone's seated. Please don't worry if you can't open your folders yet, everyone. I'll explain shortly." 

There were murmurs around the room, but nobody seemed that concerned. Miyori was forced to wait until the class began. 

After greeting everyone, Shimada wended his way through the desks, starting at the back of the room. "Now," he said, "I'm sure you've noticed that your folders aren't cooperating today." He chuckled, as though at a joke. "They're not broken, don't worry. But before we continue with the program, we need to confirm a few things." 

As he passed Miyori's seat, he lay a square of material on her folder. It adhered itself immediately, gleaming and translucent. 

"What is this?" she muttered. 

"An excellent question," Shimada said. "This is a confidentiality agreement. If you'd like to continue with the program, we need you to promise that you won't reveal the information shared here on out with anyone who is not either an employee of the Iseki Conglomerate or a fellow member of the networking program." He smiled. "If you're worried, I can promise that this agreement isn't too limiting. Compliance with expectations, to date, has been approximately ninety-nine percent across all participants…." 

He went on, going to the front of the room and lighting up the display. There were no words on the circle in Miyori's binder, but the display showed a list of requirements. 

They weren't allowed to share magic circle formulae, instructions, the times and location of restricted events, blueprints….

Miyori raised her hand. "Sensei, where can we read the actual text of the agreement we're signing?" 

"In your folders," he said. "And yes, I'm afraid that means that before you get all the details, you need to agree first. There's sensitive information in the agreement too, you see." 

Miyori's spine prickled. It was common sense not to sign an agreement before reading it first! Surely people wouldn't—

But the intern beside Miyori was already signing her name. And when she glanced over her shoulder around the rest of the room, so was everyone else. 

Miyori held her breath. The tools she'd gotten from Sayaka burned in her pocket. It was extremely likely that using them would break the agreement inside the folder. 

But if she didn't sign it, she would lose her chance to even see the information, let alone bring it back. 

And every moment she hesitated just brought more attention down on her. 

With no time to think, Miyori picked up her pen and reached for the middle of the circle. 

If they wanted her to sign an agreement, then fine. She'd sign it. 

It didn't mean she'd keep it. 

***

The rest of the session passed in a blur. 

Miyori's guess about the purpose of the networking group turned out to be right: the point of the group was to get people to draw symbols all over the city. Very few people had balked about the confidentiality agreements, but judging from Shimada's repetitive explanations, they'd expected people to be a little less certain about committing vandalism. 

Miyori, on the other hand, was focused on three things: the text of the agreement in the front of her folder, the new pages at the end, and the map that she was waiting to appear in the front of the room. 

As she pretended to listen, she skimmed the agreement, looking for what was explicitly banned. No speaking, writing about, or otherwise summarizing the contents within, the agreement read. Failure to comply with these terms will result in dismissal of the program and possible legal repercussions. 

That worried her quite a bit...but what she was about to do wasn't writing, speaking, or summarizing. 

Flipping further into the folder, she looked for new information, but most of it was just recombinations of existing designs. Near the end, though, was a bit of theory, and a work assignment. 

They wanted her to find places to draw the symbols she'd learned in her own neighborhood. 

Miyori bit her lip and decided to take a risk. 

She picked up her stylus and pressed it to the paper, reaching into her pocket with her other hand. 

There, she tapped the pixie copy machine that Sayaka had brought her to life with a spark of magic. It buzzed against her leg before spitting out a tiny page's worth of paper. 

She continued flipping through the folder, looking for more things that might be of use. Each one became another section of the paper unspooling in her pocket. 

Not speaking, writing, or summarizing—just an exact copy from a machine nobody would expect a human to carry. 

She was interrupted by a clap of hands from far too close, and froze, trying not to look suspicious. 

"Now," said Shimada, "our time is almost up. I hope you understand your marching orders, but now the question is, where exactly are you going to plant the seeds for our Garden?" 

The moment Miyori had been waiting for arrived, as the map of Kikyo spread across the far wall. 

Miyori held her breath…but there was no way she could possibly snap a picture in the middle of class without being seen, and it was likely the contract she'd signed would prevent drawing it out afterwards, even if she could remember it exactly. 

Miyori swallowed. There was no way she was going to help spread the project further...and no way she wasn't going to break the confidentiality agreement she'd signed even if she tried to play along. 

She looked at the map on the wall and nudged her camera in her bag with her foot. One way or another, she needed to get information out of this place, and today was her last chance.