Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hitoka had no idea how pretty her online friend was until she spots her across the shopping center, sitting at the outdoor cafe they agreed to meet at. She gasps and freezes, covering her eyes with her hands. “Oh no,” she whispers, “I can’t do this.”

“What’s the matter, Hitoka?”

She practically leaps into the air. “N-n-nothing!” she says, a little too loudly.

Shimizu smiles, amused. “Are you nervous?” she asks, which is generous of her. Shimizu is a familiar, Hitoka’s familiar, and Hitoka is her wizard—their magic is linked, and when they’re this close Shimizu can read Hitoka’s feelings as well as she can sense her magic. She knows how worked up Hitoka is.

“I’m—” Hitoka starts, hand fluttering. “And she’s—”

Shimizu places a gentle hand on Hitoka’s shoulder. “Why don’t we just say hi?”

She almost refuses, but Shimizu is sending little blips of something through their bond. Calmness. Hitoka marvels at how Shimizu knows how to do things like that, despite their partnership being only a couple months old. The difference in their skill level is stark.

It works. Hitoka feels less panicked. “Say hi,” she repeats under her breath. “Okay. I think I can do that.”

Shimizu smiles once more, and guides Hitoka across the shopping center.

Somehow they make it across the crowd without Hitoka bumping into someone, or accidentally casting a wayward spell, or any of a million other disasters. She starts to drag her feet the closer they get, but then Runa spots them, and Hitoka’s face goes bright red and she stutters out, “H-hello!”

“Hitoka!” Runa says, shooting up from her seat. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“W-well,” Hitoka says with great effort. “I couldn’t waste this opportunity...”

Her voice dies in her throat. How does one express to a dear friend how important they are? Especially when said friend is much prettier than ever imagined, and looks like she may go in for a hug?

It’s not like Runa and Hitoka never exchanged selfies. Runa is just the type to hide her face in them, with either a peace sign or LINE stickers. Hitoka knew Runa’s hair was soft like sunshine and that she likes to wear cute character shirts in pastels, but her smile, her eyes were a mystery.

She has dimples. Hitoka may die.

During the awkward silence, Runa looks at Shimizu curiously, then away just as quickly. “Um,” Hitoka starts, because she knows it would be rude not to introduce them. “Um, this is—she’s my—”

“I’m her familiar,” Shimizu says. “Shimizu. Hitoka has told me a lot about you.”

“Really?” Runa says, her voice getting squeaky. She flushes almost as red as Hitoka.

“Shall we sit and order drinks?” Shimizu asks. Hitoka senses she’s endeared by Runa, and knows her well enough by now to realize she’s trying to smooth out their awkward edges. She almost didn’t ask Shimizu to come along, but she’s glad she did. She doesn’t know what she did to deserve such a kind familiar.

-

Runa and Hitoka met on a now-defunct Precure message board when they were thirteen, and quickly learned they live on opposite ends of Miyagi. It’s not like either of them would have been allowed to take a train clear across the prefecture to meet up with someone they knew only through the internet, so they didn’t bother planning a meeting earlier. When Hitoka mentioned a summer camp for wizards and familiars she was invited to last minute, Runa asked where it was. It so happened to be in the same town her grandparents live in—and she already had plans to spend her summer vacation with them.

Arranging to meet up in person was the next natural step. Hitoka’s only free afternoon was halfway through the summer camp, when other wizards and familiars would be arriving from Tokyo and settling in. Shimizu is friends with many of them, but still agreed to go with Hitoka for emotional support instead of waiting for her friends. Hitoka tries not to feel too guilty.

Conversation is awkward at first, but Hitoka quickly starts to relax. Runa tells her all about her grandparents: their little vegetable garden, the two cats they’ve adopted recently, the hikes they like to take, and the huge breakfasts they cook her while she’s there. “They sound lovely,” Hitoka says over her tea and scones.

Runa grins, fingers tracing the lip of her own mug of tea. “Sometimes I think they’re too active for me,” she says. She looks up at Hitoka. “But enough about me. What’s your summer camp like?”

Hitoka expected this question. It’s only polite, after all. Not to mention Runa is a human, a bona fide non-magical human, and humans are always curious about magic. Even the humans who know Hitoka isn’t that great at it, like Runa. The humans at Hitoka and Shimizu’s school are always badgering them with questions Hitoka can barely answer, for example.

“Um, well, it’s kind of...” Hitoka’s eyes dart around. She’s trying not to look at Shimizu for help. “Hard? Really hard. Keeping up is difficult...” She trails off, glancing over at Shimizu briefly. Shimizu is too busy sipping her coffee to notice.

“What do you do there?” Runa asks. Her cheeks go pink. “Sorry, I know you probably don’t wanna talk about it. I’m just curious how it’s any different from a cram school for magic.”

“I-I guess it’s not... supposed to teach us stuff? I think it’s supposed to challenge us.” Hitoka glances at Shimizu once more, who nods in agreement. “They, um—wizards have lessons separate from familiars. For control, I think.”

“Oh,” Runa says. “That sounds interesting.”

Her tone tells Hitoka that Runa isn’t sure what that means, but is too polite to ask for clarification. Which is fine by Hitoka. Her control over her magic is spotty at best, so she isn’t sure herself.

“Control is important for wizards,” Shimizu adds. “Magic can be very dangerous. And we familiars can’t always be there for our wizards, so it’s imperative they learn how to manage their magic on their own.”

Runa looks startled. “Is it really that dangerous?”

Shimizu smiles. “Not usually. That’s what training is for.”

“Doesn’t stop me from making mistakes, though,” Hitoka mutters.

“Well, everyone makes mistakes, right?” Runa says, taking a bite of her pastry.

Hitoka groans, covering her face in her hands. “Not like this...”

“Oh, but I think your mistakes are cute,” Shimizu says. “You’ve just over-enthusiastic. Hinata didn’t seem to mind it when you soaked him with water, and that bush looked a little dry and dead anyway.” Shimizu very kindly doesn’t mention how the bush Hitoka lit on fire almost set the inn ablaze, and how Hitoka then panicked and made a pipe explode, but in the wrong direction. Hitoka sinks into her seat. Shimizu taps her chin. “What was that other one?”

“The frog,” Hitoka mumbles, thoroughly embarrassed. “I—flung it into the air. By accident!”

“That was quite funny, actually,” Shimizu says cheerfully.

“Was the poor frog okay?” Runa asks.

Hitoka nods vigorously. “It was cushioned—um, I panicked again and uh, kind of wrapped it in cotton mid-air?”

“Oh my gosh,” Runa whispers, a wide smile breaking across her face. “That’s so cute.”

“Hitoka is a very naturally gifted wizard,” Shimizu tells Runa. “Once she learns control, she’s going to do wonderful things.”

It’s high praise, albeit something Hitoka hears from Shimizu a lot, but today it doesn’t feel like a reassurance. Hitoka’s never really talked about magic with Runa. Sure, she’s been upfront about being a wizard, but she carefully avoided the subject.

When she met Runa, Hitoka was in middle school and very lonely. The kids at her school liked her well enough, but had their own group of friends. And at the magical cram school she went to, the other students soon grew tired of holding her hand through the most basic of spells. They said hello to her when they arrived, goodbye to her when they left, and ignored her in between. Hitoka had no real friends until she started talking to people online.

Now, sitting across from her talented familiar on a break from their intensive, invite-only magical summer camp, Hitoka is afraid this part of her life may alienate Runa. She doesn’t want to lose her friend.

Shimizu touches her knee under the table. She sends her comfort, and confidence. “Hitoka tells me you’re a talented artist, Runa,” she says, effortlessly changing the subject.

“I-I’m not that good yet,” Runa stammers. Her face goes pink.

“I’m sure you’re better than me,” Shimizu says. “I’m terrible. Once, for an assignment, I drew my classmate, but my teacher thought I drew a cat.”

Runa smiles at that. “Drawing is pretty hard.”

“Runa,” Hitoka says, perking up as she remembers something. “Didn’t you say you were dabbling in watercolors?”

“Oh.” Runa’s face flushes once more. “I guess I did. Um, I happen to have my sketchbook with me, if you’d like to see...?”

“Yes, please, I’d love to!”

Shyly, Runa reaches into her bag and pulls out a pale blue, worn-in sketchbook. She sets it out in the center of the table, facing Hitoka and Shimizu, and begins to flip through it. A smile grows on Hitoka’s face as she listens to her dear friend talk about her art.

-

The inn they’re staying at for camp is traditional style, with natural hot springs, carefully manicured gardens, and cool, shady bamboo forests. The latter are a blessing as Hitoka and Shimizu complete the hike back. The day is hot and sticky, and it doesn’t seem like it’ll cool down any time soon.

There’s a bus sitting on the parking lot. Empty, but the engine still hot. The casters from Tokyo must be here already. Instead of rushing in to see them like Hitoka half expects her to, Shimizu turns to her and says, “What do you think we should take pictures of?”

Runa asked for pictures of the inn before they said goodbye. She’s been visiting her grandparents in this town since she was a child, but has never seen it. Hitoka pulls out her phone. “Maybe over here?” she suggests, pointing at one of the cute little gardens. Something about it feels right.

“You’re the expert,” Shimizu says.

Hitoka takes pictures of a few things: the welcome sign, a few of the gardens, a toad she finds sitting on the porch, and one of the inn itself, partly obscured by bamboo. Shimizu watches her curiously. She wasn’t kidding when she told Runa she’s bad at art, and, as a result, she always seems so curious about the artistic process. She seems convinced Hitoka is an artist as well, even though all she does is graphic design and the occasional photo manip. Hitoka’s nothing like her mother.

“Hitoka, would Runa like a picture with you in it?” Shimizu asks. “Here, I’ll take it for you, let me see your phone.”

Hitoka does not want to stand awkwardly near something while Shimizu tries to get a smile out of her that doesn’t look like it would curdle milk. Instead she says, “Why don’t we take a selfie together?”

Shimizu is amenable to this. She stands next to Hitoka, knees bent so she’s not taller than her wizard, and smiles at the camera. Hitoka looks dumpy next to her, but she takes the pictures anyway. She’s always going to look dumpy compared to Kiyoko Shimizu.

While Hitoka is average—average wizard, poor magic control, average appearance, boring personality, decent grades—Shimizu is the ideal caster and familiar. She makes magic gorgeous, and the way she casts spells feels so calm and assured. She’s beautiful as a human, with her silky black hair, dark eyes, and beauty mark, and her familiar form is a stunning inky black raven. Hitoka is sorry she isn’t strong enough to hold Shimizu on her shoulder, like most wizards with bird-type familiars do. Hitoka is sorry about a lot of things in regards to their partnership. She’s sorry Shimizu is stuck with such a pathetic wizard most of all.

“Can you send this one to me, too?” Shimizu asks, and Hitoka knows she genuinely likes their selfie. She’s just too kind.

“No problem,” Hitoka says.

Before she can, the sliding door opens on the porch behind them, and someone squeals. “Kiyoko!”

“Oh, Yukie, hello,” Shimizu says, standing up straight and smiling. “How was the trip?”

Yukie Shirofuku, a Tokyo wizard with a boisterous personality, puts her hands on her hips. “Is that really how you’re going to greet me? That’s so unenthusiastic!”

Shimizu rolls her eyes, but there’s no bite behind it. She climbs onto the porch, and then Shirofuku pulls her into a huge, bone-crushing hug. Shimizu burrows her face into Shirofuku’s red hair.

Hitoka can’t help herself. She takes a few steps back and snaps a picture. It’s the first one she sends to Runa. She captions it, “Shimizu and her girlfriend are so cute together!”

-

Shirofuku is the only female caster from Tokyo, so their room doesn’t feel much fuller with an extra futon. The only other girl they’re sharing the room with is a second year, Mai Nametsu, who was ecstatic to see Hitoka on the first day. “Please come back next year,” Nametsu said, clutching Hitoka’s hand. “There’s never any girls in our block! I’m so glad you’re here.”

Hitoka doubts she’ll be coming back. This camp is only for high schoolers, and Shimizu will be a university student next summer. Hitoka knows she isn’t interesting enough to warrant an invitation on her lonesome. Of course, Nametsu doesn’t have to worry if she’ll be invited back. She goes to Shiratorizawa, the best school for magic in the prefecture, and makes top grades. Summer camps and universities are going to be tripping over themselves to get her to attend.

The rest of the inn is a bustle of activity as rooms are arranged for the rest of the Tokyo casters, and re-arranged as complaints start pouring in. At one point, a very soggy Oikawa—a third year wizard considered the top magical prospect in Miyagi—stops at their open door, and says, “Shirofuku, that familiar of yours is a menace! ” He stomps away before she can reply, leaving a trail of water in his wake.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” Shirofuku declares. A few minutes later her familiar, an owl-type named Bokuto, sheepishly follows behind Oikawa, mopping up the water.

Hitoka can hear other disasters happening a few rooms over. She thinks most of them must involve her classmates, Kageyama and Hinata, judging from all the yelling. She hears a small explosion, and then Nametsu’s familiar tears past their room, being pursued by a wizard from Nametsu’s school.

She’s happy to stay in their room and away from the pandemonium. Hitoka sits against the closet doors—the closet would act as a buffer between her and any wayward spells cast in the hall, she thinks—and tries valiantly to ignore the concerning noises to focus on her phone. Runa’s texting her about the pictures she sent. She asks if it would be okay if she uses one as a painting reference, and Hitoka smiles.

“After dinner,” Shirofuku says, her head resting on Shimizu’s lap, “we should do some stereotypical sleepover activities. Makeovers! Pillow fights! The whole nine yards.”

“I’d love to,” Nametsu says gleefully.

Shimizu quirks an eyebrow at Hitoka, questioning. Hitoka unfurls herself slightly and says, “That sounds fun.”

Tomorrow won’t be fun. Tomorrow will be more difficult than the past few days, with the Tokyo wizards joining their lessons. Hopefully this will make her forget about it, if only for a few hours.

-

Hitoka is the root cause of a series of disasters during their morning lessons.

First she accidentally uses too much power when they’re tasked to transmute a container of gravel into a statue of their choice, and makes an exploding stone dog. Next she mishears instructions for their next task, and ends up telling Kageyama they need to shift the winds when they were supposed to be reading something in their provided textbooks. As a result, she and Kageyama tore out about half the pages in the books, sending them flying. And so on and so on, until Hitoka is exhausted and thoroughly humiliated when lunch rolls around.

The familiars are on a trip today, so she can’t even feel Shimizu. If she were nearby, Hitoka could reach out to her, asking her to eat lunch together until she calmed down. But she can’t, so she’s on her own. Kageyama probably won’t resent her, but there’s no way the other wizards don’t. They’re all older and so much more powerful than she is.

They’re supposed to get into groups after lunch. Hitoka sits under a tree, away from the others, and picks at her food. No one is going to want to be in a group with her. She tries not to think about it so she doesn’t cry.

A shadow passes over her food. She looks up and is surprised to see the other Tokyo wizard kneeling in front of her. He’s tall, with messy black hair and calculating eyes. “Hi,” he says. “I’m Akaashi.”

“I-I know,” she squeaks out. “Um! I mean! Hello! My name is Yachi it’s nice to meet you!”

If she isn’t mistaken, the faint impression of a smile crosses his face. Shirofuku mentioned him last night, and said he’s pretty stoic. But she also said she likes him. They go to the same school and hang out in their spare time, apparently.

“Nice to meet you,” Akaashi says, tone mild. “Would you like to group up for the next project?”

Hitoka is so shocked her bento falls out of her hands. Akaashi catches it with a quick and impressive levitation spell. “M-m-me?” Hitoka says, too dumbfounded to notice her floating food.

“Yes. Is that alright?”

“Alright?! You’ve lost your marbles!” Hitoka clasps both hands over her mouth. She can feel her face start to burn red. Stupid! How could she say something like that? Akaashi just looks at her, one brow arched. “I-I mean,” Hitoka corrects, “you saw what I did today... I’ll just hold you back.”

Akaashi shrugs. “You have talent. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

Her embarrassment shifts into shame. “Not really,” she whispers. “I’m only here because of Shimizu.”

He’s silent for a moment. “Do you really believe that?” She nods. “Well. I don’t think it’s true.”

“But it is!”

“Alright. Let’s say it is. So what? You might as well get the most out of this practice as possible, I think.”

Shimizu keeps telling her something similar. Hitoka shakes her head. “M-maybe you should go ask someone else to be in your group,” she says. “What about that guy from Shiratorizawa—Shirabu? H-he’s really good...”

This time the smile on Akaashi’s face is unmistakable. “I don’t think Shirabu likes me very much,” he says mildly.

“I don’t think he likes anyone very much,” Hitoka replies, thinking about the way he argues with his familiar.

“Well. Regardless. I want to group up with you.” Akaashi shifts so he’s sitting under the tree as well, instead of kneeling in front of her. “All you need to do is practice your control, and no one here is better at control than I am. Are you going to finish your lunch?”

Hitoka blinks at her still-floating bento, like she’s never seen it before. “Y-you can have it, if you want?”

“Thanks,” he says, scooping it up.

She watches him eat in amazement. Do all Tokyo casters have bottomless pits for stomachs? Shirofuku devoured three servings of dinner last night, and Hitoka remembers Akaashi and his familiar eating even more.

Somewhere along their conversation, Hitoka stopped feeling bad about herself. She’s mostly bewildered. “Are you sure you want to work with me?” she asks, unable to help herself.

“Of course,” he answers easily.

Well. Hitoka supposes she has no choice but believe him.

-

“That was nice of him,” Runa says later that afternoon, when Hitoka calls her for a chat. Runa asked how her day was, and one thing led to another, and Hitoka ended up telling her all about how peaceful her afternoon lessons were because Akaashi was helping her. “Was his advice really that helpful?”

“I-I mean, he wasn’t really telling me anything I didn’t already know,” Hitoka says. She’s walking around one of the outdoor gardens. The rest of the wizards are inside the inn, and the familiars haven’t gotten back yet. The gardens are peaceful and quiet. Hitoka touches the trunks of the trees as she passes them. It’s soothing, somehow. “He just kinda... reminded me. It was easier to remember with someone reminding me.”

As soon as she says it, she realizes it’s the same with Shimizu. Shimizu has the added benefit of being able to reign in Hitoka’s magic if it gets out of control, but she’s always patiently going over the steps to casting magic correctly. Steady breathing, focus, clear intent—she could almost recite it in her sleep. Except when it comes time to cast magic in front of others, of course. Then she’s lucky if she remembers her own name.

“He sounds like a nice person,” Runa is saying.

“There’s so many nice people here, Runa,” Hitoka says, thinking of Shirofuku and Nametsu, and even Hinata and Kageyama. They’re still her friends. Maybe one of them asked Akaashi to partner up with her, but his offer was genuine. “But a bunch of them are scary, too...”

“I think they’d all probably scare me,” Runa admits, laughter in her voice.

Hitoka smiles at that. She can’t imagine Runa being unable to charm anyone.

She sits on a stone bench, opposite a small pond. She spies orange flashes of tiny goldfish, and even sees a frog swimming away from her. Hopefully it’s a different frog than the one she sent flying. She’s not sure she could face it yet.

“Hey, uh, Hitoka?” Runa asks.

“Yes?”

“I know you don’t think you’re that good—and it’s fine if you don’t want to, I don’t mind—but, do you think, maybe one day, you could show me some of the magic you can do?”

She sounds so nervous as she asks. Hitoka is shocked. “Y-you really want to see?”

“Of course! You take such beautiful pictures, I’m sure your magic is just as wonderful.”

Hitoka can’t help but giggle at the randomness of Runa’s comparison. “Sure,” she says quietly. “If I find a good spell, I’ll show it to you.”

-

The microscopic bit of confidence Hitoka gained from the day before vanishes as she stares at her first task of the morning. It’s a tangle of metal, as twisted and knotted as earbuds forgotten at the bottom of a bag, and covered in a slight coating of moss.

The goal is to straighten it. That would be hard enough, but the moss adds a layer of difficulty. Organic matter is one of the hardest things to manipulate. Hitoka has never tried before.

Even Kageyama is having trouble. They’re alone for this lesson, because it’s supposedly easier than the things the second and third years are doing. Hitoka wonders if the teacher overseeing them will take pity on her and let her try on a clean one. Or a wooden one. Or maybe she’ll be allowed to go home.

She reaches out tentatively and touches the mess of metal. It feels like a piece of junk. The moss on it is soft, and she finds herself drawn to that instead of the cold metal.

She could at least try, right? Manipulation magic—shaping something in the environment without changing its composition—is the easiest class of magic there is. She’s even successful at it sometimes. It’s not like she’s transmuting it, or even conjuring it out of thin air. She could give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?

Well, she could accidentally break it into little pieces while trying to manipulate it, and each little piece could shoot everywhere at high speed, injuring Kageyama and the instructor and herself. It could become molten in her hands, dripping to the floor and burning a hole in the wood. She could even make it expand until it becomes a metal-and-moss balloon, which then pops and spews shards everywhere.

With all this running through her mind, her thumb slips and wears away a bit of the moss. “Darn it,” she mutters under her breath.

“Did you say something?” Kageyama asks. She glances at him. He has his metal mostly untwisted, though it isn’t perfectly straight. Yet.

“N-no, I’m fine,” she says weakly. Hitoka returns her attention to her unchanged metal. Oh, she feels so bad about the moss. If only she were better at magic and could fix it.

As she’s thinking that, the bits of moss on her nail fly back to where she scraped it off, reattaching itself neatly. She gasps. She brings it to her face for a closer look, and then—flowers start to sprout, right by her eyes. She yelps and drops the scrap of metal, but it’s still growing and growing. Not just flowers, but vines and grass and ivy, and it’s spreading across the floor now, and in an instant the area around her is lush and green and she is mortified.

Kageyama and the instructor are gaping at her in astonishment. “I-I’m so sorry,” she says. Her eyes start to sting with tears. She’s ruined the beautiful inn! There’s plants growing out of the floor!

“How did you do that?” Kageyama demands, recovering first. “Can you show me? That was incredible!”

“Um,” is her only answer.

“My word,” the instructor says. “This sure is something. Why didn’t you mention you have an affinity for flora?”

Hitoka’s heart is pounding so loudly in her ears, she’s sure she misheard him. “E-excuse me?”

She feels a strange pulling sensation in her gut. She’s so upset she doesn’t recognize it until Shimizu comes rushing into the room, panting slightly. Oh, no. Hitoka’s accidentally called her familiar through their bond.

“Hitoka?” Shimizu looks around at the plants in amazement. They’ve stopped growing now, and are blowing in the slight breeze coming from the open windows. “Oh, wow,” she breathes.

That’s all the bewilderment Shimizu allows herself to indulge in. Her attention focuses on Hitoka, because tears start to trail down her face. Shimizu pulls her up into a hug, says, “Excuse us,” to the instructor, and half-carries Hitoka out of the room.

-

The attention Hitoka gets that evening makes her uncomfortable. She can’t explain how she did it, no matter how many times Kageyama asks, because she doesn’t know. It just happened.

“Magic doesn’t just happen,” Kageyama says to her after ambushing her in the inn’s lounge. His eyebrows knit together, like he’s confused by what Hitoka is trying to tell him. “It does what you tell it to.”

“Sometimes it does stuff you weren’t even aware you asked it to,” Hinata adds, elbowing his way into the conversation.

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Kageyama snaps.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t do that too,” Hinata says. He tries to flatten his wild hair, arranges his face into a sour expression, and pitches his voice deeper in an attempt to mimic Kageyama. “Hinata, stop complaining, I didn’t mean to chuck that desk at you. Or the textbooks. It was an accident!”

Kageyama’s face turns red with anger. “You—!”

He tries to grab Hinata, but his familiar is quicker than he is, and transforms into a crow in a blink of an eye. Hinata flies off, circling the room, the landing on Kageyama’s other side. He turns back to a human as soon as he hits the ground. He looks smug. Kageyama’s anger has faded into his baseline irritation, so all he does is punch Hinata on the shoulder.

Hinata is one of the strangest familiars Hitoka has ever known. Even the most skilled familiars take a few minutes between transformations, but Hinata can switch forms fluidly, and it never seems to adversely affect his magic.

Hitoka doesn’t know why she didn’t just stay in her room. Shimizu invited her to play a card game with her and Shirofuku and whoever else they could round up, and she decided it might be a good idea. Hitoka wasn’t able to make it to the table before Kageyama and Hinata surrounded her. At least they’re the only ones, though she can feel other sets of eyes on her.

“I’ve never been able to manipulate plants like that before,” Kageyama says, now with a hand planted on Hinata’s face. Hinata’s arms are flailing as he tries to repay the favor, but he’s too short to reach his wizard. “It was really cool.”

“Cool?” Hitoka squeaks out. She’s never been cool before.

“I saw all the plants in the room!” Hinata says. His voice is muffled by Kageyama’s hand. “It was totally cool and I’m gonna learn how to do that before you, Kageyama!”

“No you won’t!”

“Yes I will!”

Hitoka might be getting a headache. She sneaks away from their argument and flees to Shimizu’s side.

Shimizu and Shirofuku have commandeered a table and a tray of snacks. Shirofuku shuffles a deck of cards. Her familiar, Bokuto, is sitting next to her, flopped over the table. When Hitoka sits next to Shimizu, he looks at her curiously.

“You’re the one who transmuted all those plants?” he says. He closes one eye and pinches two fingers together in front of the other. “But you’re like... tiny.”

“Kotaro,” Shirofuku says, a warning in her voice. “A person’s size doesn’t determine their magic.”

“Mmmmyeah you’re right.” He sits up straighter. “But seriously, could you do that again? Here, here—” He shoves some crackers at her. “Turn those into flowers!”

“I-I don’t know how,” Hitoka says weakly.

“You’ll figure it out,” Shimizu tells her. Then, to Bokuto, she says, “But later. We’re all tired today.”

“Aww, okay.” Bokuto pulls the crackers back and starts sadly eating them.

Shirofuku starts dealing the cards. Hitoka promises herself she is going to concentrate on their game. She is going to put Kageyama and Hinata’s admiration out of her mind, along with Bokuto’s curiosity, and she’s pretty sure Shirabu is glaring at her from the other side of the room, not to mention she thinks Nametsu is outside with her familiar trying to practice plant manipulation because of her—oh god she’s doing such a bad job of ignoring everything! Focus, Hitoka, focus!

Hitoka watches the cards pile up in front of her. What game were they playing again? She can’t remember what Shimizu told her. It’s going to be so humiliating to ask, but...

Someone else comes into the room then, and Hitoka would normally purposefully not look up, but Hinata shouts and starts transforming rapidly. “Ah! Semi!” he says, voice getting louder with excitement. “Hey, do you have time? Can you show me that thing where you turn into an eagle again? It was so cool!”

Semi, Shirabu’s familiar, looks taken aback. “Uh, sorry. I’m busy.”

Before Hinata can react, Bokuto stands up suddenly. “This is the guy you were telling me about, Shoyo?”

“Yes!”

Bokuto lets out a whoop and transforms into a large horned owl. His wingspan is massive, and he knocks half the cards off the table when he takes off. “Kotaro!” Shirofuku snaps. Bokuto is too focused on crowding Semi to notice the mess he’s made.

“Is it true?” Bokuto asks as he lands on the back of a nearby chair. His talons rips little holes in the upholstery. “You can turn into an eagle? That’s incredible! I’ve got to see that! How’d you learn it? Who taught you? Was it hard?”

Hitoka thought Semi looked intimidating the first time she saw him, but he doesn’t look like he could scare a kitten right now. He’s bewildered and thrown off balance by all the attention. Hitoka sympathizes a little. “I, uh, taught myself.”

Bokuto whoops again. “Really?! Awesome! How?”

“I’ve really gotta go—” Semi tries, but Hinata interrupts him.

“Please please please, I haven’t met anyone who can do that before!” Hinata says, settling on his human form and waving his arms about. He almost hits Kageyama, who is watching this incident with only mild interest. Normally Kageyama would be all for learning powerful or difficult magic, but he’s a wizard. Wizards can’t transform like familiars do. And most familiars never learn other forms than the one they’re born with—bird-types being only owls or corvids, never eagles—which is why Hinata and Bokuto are excited.

“Hey, hey, why an eagle?” Bokuto asks. He flaps his wings again, sending a breeze through the room, and knocking over a few more cards.

This seems to be the last straw. Shirofuku stands up and shouts, “Kotaro!”

Bokuto flinches. He turns his head around slowly and winces visibly when he sees the casualties he left behind. “Did uh, did I do that?”

“Yes,” Shirofuku says, “now clean it up.”

Bokuto looks ashamed of himself. He hangs his head, and transforms back into a human. He starts picking cards off the ground, morose.

Semi takes advantage of the distraction to maneuver around Hinata and Kageyama. He stops in front of Shirabu, who is comfortably seated in a plush chair in the corner, a couple books on the armrest and one more open in his lap. There’s a few marbles and scraps of paper he’s been idly manipulating as he reads, but they’re still now. He’s pretending he isn’t paying attention to the rest of them.

“Shirabu,” Semi says. His voice is quiet, but there’s an awkward silence hanging over the room and Hitoka can hear him perfectly.

“What?” Shirabu grumbles. He flips to another page.

“You know perfectly well why I’m here.”

“No, I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

Semi raises an eyebrow, looks over his shoulder at the rest of the people in the room, who all try to act like they aren’t listening. He then turns back to Shirabu in a clear You want me to embarrass you in front of everyone? gesture.

Shirabu sighs. “Fine. I get it.” He closes his book, stands, and shoves his stack on a nearby bookshelf. He holds up a hand. “Come on, then.”

Semi transforms—not into an eagle, but into a cute, fluffy grey jay, which Hitoka thinks is at odds with his human appearance. He’s small enough to land on Shirabu’s hand, and Shirabu lifts him to his shoulder. Shirabu then marches out of the room, past a still-moping Bokuto and a confused Hinata, both of whom don’t notice Semi is leaving. It’s the first nice thing Hitoka has seen Shirabu do.

Not long after they leave, Nametsu burts into the room, her cat-type familiar thrown over her shoulder. “Are we late for the game?” she pants.

Bokuto places the cards he’s collected in front of Shirofuku. “Not at all,” she says cheerfully. “Feel free to join us!”

Nametsu collapses in a chair. Her familiar complains with an, “Oof,” jumps from her shoulder, and sits on the table, tail curled around his paws. “You’re always so rough with me, Mai,” he whines. “I thought you were my friend!”

“What are we playing?” Nametsu asks, ignoring him.

Hitoka is overcome with relief as Shirofuku begins to explain the rules.

-

The next day Hitoka is pulled away from the other wizards and given her own personal task to complete. “It’ll be fun!” says the cheery woman who has yet to be her instructor. “Since you’ve shown an affinity for plants, this will help you grow your skills!”

She then laughs, probably proud of her pun. Hitoka suspects they just want her to clear the plants she grew by accident. The owners of the inn were not happy when they saw the state of their floor.

Hitoka is left alone in the room after being told someone will bring her lunch to her. She doesn’t think the circle of plants has grown since yesterday, but it looks like it’s been there for years, like it’s part of the room. She almost feels bad killing the poor things. Then she thinks—if she made them grow, maybe she can transplant them into the garden?

The room has a sliding glass door hidden behind a paper screen. She opens both. Sweet, fresh air flows in from the gardens, and Hitoka is confident she is making the right choice. She kneels in front of the plants. “Okay, guys,” she says to them, feeling a little silly. “I’m going to move you now. But don’t worry! You’ll have a happy life outside.”

It seems so simple when she says it like that, but it takes her the better part of an hour to coax the roots of a flower to come out of the floor. As soon as the tiny blue flower is in her hands, she pumps a fist in the air and says, “I did it!”

Someone claps behind her. “Good job.”

Hitoka screams, then clasps her free hand over her mouth. She turns around slowly. Akaashi is sitting in the open doorway, framed by the morning sun, and looking apologetic.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says.

“I-it’s okay,” Hitoka says. “How... long have you been here?”

He shrugs. “A few minutes. Why?”

Good, he didn’t see her entire struggle. “No reason!”

He points at the flower she’s still clutching. “I can show you where the inn keeps their compost.”

“No!” she says loudly, then clears her throat. “I mean—I’m gonna replant it.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Don’t let me stop you, then.”

So he’s planning on watching her do this, too. Hitoka would rather it be Shimizu, or even Nametsu with her good humor, but she guesses Akaashi isn’t that bad. He’s a nice person. Even if he is obviously as fascinated by her apparent magical affinity for flora as the rest of them. It’s starting to get old.

He steps out of the way, letting her walk outside. She hops off the porch, still wearing her indoor shoes, and carefully walks to the nearest garden. She kneels and digs a small hole for the tiny flower. She hopes this works. She must have been holding it too hard, because it looks like the stem has snapped.

Hitoka gently covers its roots with soil. She rests her hand on the ground, and does something Shimizu keeps telling her to try—she lets her magic do what it wants. Just a tiny bit. She feels her magic run from her palm to the soil, and then the flower perks up.

“You’re really good at this,” Akaashi marvels. He’s followed her to the garden.

Hitoka stands, trying to wipe the dirt off her hands and knees. Great. She hopes she isn’t going to be made to mop the floor after herself, too. “I just tried to do my best,” she says.

“That’s half of what magic is, I think.”

She looks at him, really looks at him, and something occurs to her. “Um, Akaashi...” He looks up at her, and she barrels clumsily through her question. “So the others, besides me I mean, the wizards are supposed to go on a field trip today, but you’re here, and I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be doing this alone, so I was wondering, um, how and why are you here?”

“I’d like to know the same thing,” says another voice.

Hitoka shrieks in surprise for the second time that day, but Akaashi merely looks resigned. “I should have known you’d be here, Ennoshita.”

Akaashi’s familiar flutters down to a low branch on a nearby tree. He’s a crow-type, just like Hinata, as well as Oikawa’s familiar. Ennoshita has a gentle face and Shimizu knew him from middle school, making him another person Hitoka is slightly less intimidated by.

Ennoshita tilts his head. “Well, Akaashi?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m interested in plant transmutation,” he answers. She knew it. She feels somewhat betrayed. “As for how—I told the others I had a stomachache and had to go lie down.”

“That’s the best you could come up with,” Ennoshita says dryly. “A stomachache.”

Akaashi shrugs. “How did you get away from your group?”

“I told them my wizard was going to ditch his own group by saying he had a stomachache.”

Akaashi cracks a smile. “Fair enough. Yachi, would you like us to help you today? I’m pretty decent at plant manipulation, though transmutation gives me trouble.”

Hitoka twists the hem of her shirt in her hands, getting dirt on that, too. “I think, at first, I wanna try by myself.”

“Well, we’ll be here if you change your mind.”

“I apologize in advance if this guy distracts you,” Ennoshita adds. Akaashi looks offended. That doesn’t stop him from holding out his hand. Ennoshita lands on it, in a strange mirror image of Semi and Shirabu from last night, though crows are larger than jays and Akaashi and Ennoshita are friends.

It isn’t terrible, really. Hitoka wishes she could have struggled with this alone, but Ennoshita is friendly, which balances out Akaashi’s scientific curiosity, and often their banter is quite funny. Hitoka sometimes finds herself very distracted. Somehow, when she’s not paying attention, flowers and ivy vines and grass unroot more easily.

-

By the time the end of the day rolls around, Hitoka is exhausted. She manages to get through about a third of the plants before the instructor pokes her head in the door to dismiss her. Unless Hitoka was imagining things, the instructor looked a little disappointed in her progress. Though that may have been because she found Akaashi and Ennoshita playing hooky.

Hitoka can feel Shimizu somewhere in the inn. She wanders down the halls in a bit of a daze, letting her instincts guide her. Her magic probably needs a familiar’s touch. And she just wants to be around her friend.

She finds the room Shimizu is in. Before she can knock, someone grabs her arm. This time she’s too tired to scream, but her heart pounds wildly and she spins around.

Shirabu is frowning at her. “Don’t go in there,” he says quietly.

He is the last person she ever thought would want to talk to her, which would be confusing enough on its own. Why he’s trying to keep her from her familiar is ten times as baffling. “Wha—why?”

He glances at the door and hesitates. “They’re talking about us,” he says, so quiet she has to strain to hear him.

“What?” She whips her head to look at the door, then back to Shirabu. “What? Us? Why?”

“Keep your voice down,” he hisses. He hesitates once more, then sighs. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

He disappears in the room across the hall. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she follows him. Futons are stacked messily in the corner of the room, and clothing has been kicked along one wall. Hitoka thinks she recognizes a shirt she saw Hinata wearing earlier that week. This must been the room he’s sharing with Kageyama and Bokuto.

Hitoka wonders why Shirabu invited himself into their room and is about to excuse herself, until he points to something stuck on the interior wall. It’s a small speaker, and Hitoka can hear people talking in low tones from it. “I left my phone in that room. It wasn’t hard to turn it on from here, and connect it to this,” he explains.

The speaker looks like it’s been transmuted from the wall. “That’s... neat,” Hitoka says lamely. “But... why?”

“I told you,” Shirabu says, getting impatient. “They’re talking about us.”

“Who?” Hitoka asks, but as soon as she does, it dawns on her who’s in the room across the hall. Shimizu, obviously. It stands to reason Semi is also in there. Why they’re hiding in a closed room to talk about their wizards, Hitoka does not know. She looks at the speaker. She isn’t sure she wants to know.

Shirabu watches her face. “You can leave if you want.” He sits down next to the speaker, back to the wall. He crosses his arms. “I don’t care what you do. Just don’t tell Semi.”

She thinks she hears an unspoken threat. “I won’t,” she warbles.

It’s wrong to be in someone else’s room without permission, and eavesdropping isn’t right, either. Hitoka is going to leave. She is going to go to her room, change into fresh clothes, and take a nap before dinner. Then she hears someone say her name, and sits down on the other side of the speaker.

Shimizu’s voice is tinny and a little distorted. “Hitoka hasn’t gained any confidence,” she says. “No matter what I do or say, she thinks so little of herself. If I think she’s made progress, she’s back to square one the next day.”

Semi speaks next. “It’s only June. You’ve only been bonded for about two months, right? You have time.”

“I’m just worried about what will happen after I graduate,” Shimizu explains. “Her magic is still growing, and I can tell it still has a ways to go before it matures. If she doesn’t perfect her control before I go to university, what’s going to happen to her?”

Hitoka’s stomach starts to hurt. It’s true that she’s worried about the same thing, but to hear Shimizu express doubts after being so encouraging for so long...

Semi sighs. “I know what you mean. Shirabu’s magic is barely under control most of the time. I can’t be away for him for too long or he’ll start to get magic-sick. And he won’t stop goddamn overexerting himself. He did it just last night!”

“I was wondering what that scene in the lounge was about,” Shimizu says.

“That was him being behaved. Normally there’s a big fight if I tell him to stop casting for the day.”

At this, Shirabu’s crossed arms tighten across his chest. Hitoka pretends she didn’t notice.

“You’re telling me,” a third voice says, and at this Hitoka is confused. This new person sounds a lot like Sugawara, a familiar who goes to their school. But Sugawara isn’t here. Right?

“Oikawa is an idiot,” Semi says firmly.

“You’ve met Oikawa before?” the other person says, who must be Oikawa’s familiar. He’s a peculiar familiar, who refused to shift from his crow form, and hasn’t given anyone his name. Including Oikawa. His voice sounds different and Hitoka doesn’t hear any rustling feathers, so he must be in human form right now. He trusts two strangers over his own wizard?

“Yeah, I met him about three years ago, when his magic first started going wild. They wanted me to bond with him, but we wouldn’t have been a good match.” Semi pauses. “I guess they found you right after.”

“I didn’t know that,” Shirabu mutters. He rests his head against the wall and closes his eyes. “Good for me, I guess.” His voice sounds hollow. Hitoka starts to feel very, very uncomfortable hearing this, but her legs are too tired to move.

“Oikawa and I were only a passable match back then,” his familiar says with building resentment. “We’re growing in different directions. I can barely keep his magic under control now. It won’t be long until I can’t, and someone gets hurt.” He sighs roughly. “I wish he’d find another familiar already, but he refuses to even meet with prospective matches anymore.”

“Why don’t you tell him who you are?” Shimizu asks. “Maybe a show of trust on your part will stop him from clinging to you. Not to mention, Sawamura tells me you can be scarily convincing, Suga.”

Hitoka squeaks in surprise. She covers her mouth with both hands as Shirabu glares at her. That is Sugawara! And he’s Oikawa’s familiar? Hitoka didn’t even know Sugawara was bonded with anyone. She can’t imagine Sugawara ever having the patience for Oikawa’s antics either, but he sounds so resigned.

“It’s not that simple,” Sugawara mumbles. Then, louder, with an affected joking tone, he adds, “Maybe you should have been Oikawa’s familiar, Semi. You’re a lot more powerful than I am.”

“It wouldn’t have worked if we aren’t a match,” Semi says. “And don’t say that. You don’t know how strong your magic is, not when you’re spending so much of it keeping an idiot in check.”

Shirabu glares at the floor. Hitoka gets the feeling he thinks Semi means him, too, if only because she’s sure the same thing applies to her and Shimizu.

Silence. Hitoka wonders if Shirabu’s hastily transmuted speaker has given out or his phone has died, until Sugawara speaks. “You know, Shimizu, you’re really lucky.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. You’re friends with your wizard.”

Hitoka is astonished. Shimizu, lucky? Because she and Hitoka get along? That isn’t right. Hitoka is holding her back. She’s too beautiful and too skilled to be bonded with a wizard who’s afraid of her own magic.

“I just wish,” Shimizu cuts herself off. There’s a shuffling noise, which sounds awful on the tiny speaker. “I wish she’d realize she deserves to be here on her own merit, just as much as Shirabu and Oikawa do.”

Does she? So far all she’s done during their stay is mess up, accidentally do some difficult magic she can’t replicate, then hide in her friend’s room to eavesdrop on her familiar. Hitoka doesn’t think that sounds like she belongs to be among these incredible casters. Her body begins to shake, and she feels a surge of something she recognizes as anger.

She doesn’t even know why she’s in this room with a wizard who hates her. She stands, fists clenched at her sides. “I won’t tell anyone,” she says to Shirabu, then she leaves the room before he can reply.

Hitoka has enough sense in her to bottle up her emotions to keep from attracting Shimizu’s attention. She walks down the halls slowly at first, with purpose, but her footsteps get faster and faster until she’s practically running. She slams open a door, stumbles onto the porch, and falls more than jumps off it to the ground. Her feet keep moving until she’s out of sight of the inn, carrying her to one of the furthest gardens.

Shimizu cares about her, she’s worried about her, and Hitoka doesn’t know why this makes her so sad. Shimizu is a nice person! She’s always been kind to Hitoka! But when they met, when Shimizu suggested they bond, Hitoka always suspected it was so other wizards would stop harassing her to be their familiar. What else would she see in Hitoka, if not a shield?

Goddammit, Hitoka just wants to stop feeling out of place! She stomps her foot on the soft earth like a child, and grass springs to life around her, radiating out in a spiral. She stares, fascinated. For just a second she forgets why she ran out here.

She does it again, a little farther away. This time flowers spring up from where she hits the ground, wavy little arms that look like a sun. Next she touches the base of a tree, growing moss in the shape of clouds. She lines the little pond with cattails, encourages the bushes to flower, ripens the berries on an unfamiliar vine. Everywhere she steps she leaves footprints made of flowers, and if she stands in place too long she creates another circle of new growth.

She’s created so much life, but she still has so much frustration threatening to burst forth. She buries her face in her hands and resists the urge to scream. She channels that energy into her magic instead, and she can feel it spinning around her, can hear the dirt split where new flowers and bamboo grows, but she stubbornly refuses to look.

When it’s over, she’s breathing heavily. “Yachi?” says a voice behind her.

Hitoka turns. Nametsu is standing outside her circle of growth, concern on her face and her familiar a few steps behind her.

Nametsu takes a tentative step forward. “Are—are you alright?”

Hitoka takes in a few gasping breaths. Her head is spinning. “I just want to belong,” she whispers, too tired for tears, and she collapses in Nametsu’s arms.

“Kenji,” Nametsu says to her familiar, issuing an order Hitoka doesn’t understand. Then, to Hitoka, “Hey, it’s okay. You fit in here. It’s alright.”

Hitoka trembles in Nametsu’s arms, despite the summer heat. Nametsu’s whispered encouragements quickly become white noise. She can feel the plants. All of them, even the ones who lived here before she showed up. She can almost feel them reaching for her. God, she hopes she isn’t making them reach for her. She hopes that’s all in her head.

Moments later, Nametsu’s familiar comes out of the house, though Hitoka wasn’t aware he’d left. Shimizu follows him. Hitoka reaches for Shimizu, and Shimizu catches her, kisses the crown of her head, and leads her back inside.

-

No one mentions the new additions to the gardens at breakfast. Hitoka is incredibly relieved. She’s hungry—starving, really—and she knows it’s because she used so much magic the night before. She eats, and begins to feel alright.

It’s their last day here, and Hitoka is asked once more to remove the plants she grew in the floor. The instructor leaves her alone again. Good. Hitoka’s heart is too raw to tolerate someone else’s eyes.

She finds it’s easier to coax the plants out of the floor today. She pulls up a patch of clover and cups it in her hands and sets a personal goal. She wants to be done by lunch. She doesn’t want to continue being isolated from the others, humiliated by her lack of skill and lack of control. So she gets to work.

If Akaashi or Ennoshita or even Shimizu come by to watch her, she doesn’t notice. Her attention is on the plants in her hands and the dirt under her feet. She makes trip after trip into the garden, delicately stepping over the radials she made last night, and rehoming her first plants. Sometimes, just to prove she can, she touches a flower or a patch of moss and wills it to grow. It always does.

She’s worked up a sweat by the time she stands in the empty, now plant-free room. She wipes her forehead, probably smearing dirt on her face. There’s little holes dotting the wooden floor. Hitoka hopes she isn’t expected to do something about those too, because she’s always been terrible at transmuting material to match something else. Maybe one of the others will do it for her.

Hitoka checks her phone and is surprised to find she’s finished in only a couple hours. She can’t help but smile.

There’s no one in the hall as she walks back to her room to change into something less dirt-coated. She guesses she’d be expected to find the other wizards and join their lesson. Instead she dials Runa’s number, fingers trembling.

-

It’s hot outside, and Runa buys her a snowcone.

“You don’t have to—” Hitoka protests. Runa smiles and puts the snowcone in her hands. Hitoka can’t get used to that smile.

“You look like you need it, is all,” Runa says, plopping down on the bench next to Hitoka. Her snowcone is a bright, cheery pink. Hitoka’s is a pale blue, and when she takes a bite, she’s surprised to find it’s soda flavored.

Hitoka didn’t tell anyone at the inn she was leaving. She just walked out. She followed her GPS to the little store Runa said she’d be at, and quickly worked up a sweat for the second time that day. So much for changing her clothes.

She takes another bite of her snowcone and decides, yes, she really did need this.

Her phone chimes with a new text message. Hitoka had planned on ignoring her phone today, but she knows who it’s from. She unlocks her phone and reads it.

“Uh, Runa?” she says.

“Yes?”

“Shimizu is worried about me. Can we, um, take a selfie so she knows I’m okay?”

Runa’s spoonful of snowcone misses her mouth and falls to the ground. “S-sure! That sounds fun!”

Hitoka has to sit closer to Runa to get a good picture. She feels a little silly, holding up her snowcone next to Runa’s, while Runa smiles beautifully and Hitoka’s bangs are sticking to her sweaty forehead. “Say cheese!” she says.

She snaps the pictures, and then she and Runa dissolve into giggles. It’s a cute picture, Hitoka thinks. Maybe she’ll make it her wallpaper.

Runa watches Hitoka send the selfie to Shimizu. “Do you mind sending it to me, too?” she asks. “My grandparents were asking about you, so...”

“No problem,” Hitoka says. She pulls up Runa’s messages next. “So, uh, what sort of things did your grandparents want to know?”

“Just who you are and stuff.” Runa shrugs. She takes another bite of snowcone. “I told them that you’re a good friend. And—super cute.”

Runa’s ears go pink, and Hitoka is pretty sure it’s not sunburn. At the same time, Shimizu’s reply comes through. Have fun, and good luck!

Hitoka’s insides feel like mush and butterflies. “Hey, Runa? Is there a park nearby?”

“I think so. Why?”

She smiles. “I figured out what spell I want to show you.”

-

The grass in the park is soft. Hitoka steps off the path and enjoys the feeling of it. Now that she’s looking, she recognizes all the ways she’s connected with flora before, and it excites her.

“Hitoka...?” Runa looks at her, confused.

“Come on,” Hitoka says, gesturing for Runa to follow. When she doesn’t, Hitoka grabs her hand. “It’ll be fine.”

Runa glances around at the few people milling about, but none of them are looking at the two girls. She lets Hitoka lead her out into the middle of a grassy hill, the shade of a tree just barely touching them. Hitoka sits down, and Runa follows suit.

“What kind of spell is it?” Runa asks, quiet with anticipation.

“It’s one I just figured out recently, so um, it might not be very good, but...”

“I don’t mind. I’m just happy to finally spend time with you.”

Hitoka’s heart skips a beat and her palms begin to sweat. That’s when she realizes she’s still holding Runa’s hand. She pulls away, hoping Runa wasn’t too disgusted, and puts both hands on the cool grass.

“Well,” she says, “here goes nothing.”

She can feel the life in the grass, sure—and if she concentrates, she thinks she can feel the roots of the tree—but at first, she can’t get anything to happen. She’s too nervous with Runa so close. But she also finds Runa’s presence invigorating. She hasn’t been this determined to perform magic since—well, ever.

A tiny white flower sprouts in front of her. Then another, and another, until there’s a cluster of white flowers dancing in the breeze. Small flowers start to dot the grass around them, pink, blue, orange, yellow. Hitoka hears Runa gasp, and the sound digs something out of Hitoka’s heart, and she decides to create larger flowers just to make Runa happy. Daisies spring up, and tulips, followed by lillies in all the colors of the rainbow.

The circle of flowers Hitoka creates is much larger than the ones she did last night. Yesterday the spells she was casting were a consequence of her wild emotions; today, her magic bends gently to her every request. She and Runa are the epicenter of a beautiful, lush, spiraling garden, a peaceful gift made for a friend.

Runa has both hands covering her mouth, and Hitoka thinks she sees tears in Runa’s eyes. “Do—do you like it?” Hitoka asks.

Slowly, Runa lowers her hands and looks at her. She’s smiling. “This is incredible, Hitoka.”

Hitoka nervously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad.”

When she puts her hand back down on the grass, it brushes Runa’s. After a moment’s hesitation, Hitoka takes Runa’s hand once more. Runa is the one who laces their fingers together. Happiness floods Hitoka’s chest, and the flowers start to bob and sway around them, leaving her feeling like they’re adrift in a sea of flowers. She loves Runa’s smile, and she loves Runa’s hands, and her kindness and her creativity and her patience, and, most importantly, she loves her friend.

-

The Tokyo casters leave that afternoon. Hitoka is impressed by how calm Shimizu and Shirofuku are about parting. She didn’t like saying goodbye to Runa earlier, and at least she and Runa lives in the same prefecture.

Of course, that doesn’t stop them from hugging so long it becomes awkward to stand nearby. Hitoka rubs the back of her neck and looks anywhere but at her familiar and her familiar’s girlfriend.

She spots Ennoshita, in human form, loading luggage into the bus. Akaashi is not far behind him with another suitcase. Hitoka takes a deep breath and approaches them. “Um, e-excuse me!”

Ennoshita smiles kindly. “Hi, Yachi.”

“Hello,” Akaashi says. “Do you need something?”

His ability to read her flusters her. “I—you said you’re good at control—I need to practice, um, that—can I—phone number?”

Ennoshita has enough tact to turn his head when he pretends he’s coughing instead of laughing. Akaashi is trying not to smile. “Sure,” he says. “I could give you some tips.”

What a relief. They exchange phone numbers, and Hitoka gets Ennoshita’s as well. She dreaded the arrival of the Tokyo casters a few days ago, but today she’s sad to see them go. She’s glad she met Akaashi and Ennoshita.

Hitoka waves goodbye and turns to walk away, only to run right into one of Shirofuku’s bear hugs. “You’re a sweet girl, Hitoka,” she says, crushing Hitoka’s ribs. “You be good to Kiyoko now, yeah?”

“O-o-okay,” Hitoka wheezes. Shirofuku releases her.

Over on the porch Bokuto and Hinata are having a very noisy goodbye. Kageyama, probably emboldened by Hitoka approaching him first, walks up to Akaashi with thinly-veiled admiration. Ennoshita starts laughing again.

Shimizu appears at Hitoka’s side and bumps her shoulder playfully. “You look happier today.”

Hitoka nods. Her magic doesn’t feel like it fits her wrong anymore, and her mind is clearer than it has been in a while. That doesn’t mean she can forget what she heard last night, or that she feels any less guilty about it. She bites the inside of her cheek. “Um, Shimizu? Can I ask a question?”

“Go for it.”

She scuffs the toe of her shoe into the dirt. “Why did you pick me?”

Shimizu considers the question as she watches her girlfriend load her luggage and her familiar into the bus. “Well,” she says, “you just felt right. I’ve met a lot of wizards over the years, but none of them felt like you. Your magic is soft, like a blanket.”

If Hitoka is being honest, she’s never been quite sure what familiars mean when they talk the feel of a wizard’s magic. She can sense Shimizu’s, of course, but she’s never thought to quantify it. Shimizu’s magic is just like Shimizu. And if Hitoka doesn’t have the words to accurately describe Shimizu, she can’t describe her magic, either.

“In other words,” she says quietly, “you like how completely non-threatening I am.”

Recognizing it as a joke, Shimizu flashes Hitoka a smile. “On a different note, you never said anything. How did it go with Runa?”

At the mention of Runa’s name Hitoka remember the park and the flowers and her pretty smile. She starts to giggle nervously as her cheeks heat up. She can’t quite contain her giddiness, but it’s alright. She thinks Shimizu would want to know. She feels something back from Shimizu, something warm, something strong—pride. Shimizu is proud of her.

After everyone has finished saying their goodbyes, the Tokyo casters load up on the bus, and they drive off. Hitoka and the others are going home later that afternoon. She’s going to take the train with Shimizu, Hinata, and Kageyama, and sleep in her own bed tonight. Tomorrow school starts up again. Hitoka didn’t think it would ever happen, but she hopes she’ll get invited back to this camp next summer, even if Shimizu can’t come with her.