"Are you sure you won't reconsider?"
"Quite sure," Minerva repeated. "Thank you for the offer, all the same."
Miho pouted. "It would look so pretty on you, though..."
Minerva had heard that the Japanese kimono, while largely bespoke, was created in such a manner as to allow easy modifications to fit different people. She wasn't sure whether this extended to the full head's height she had over Miho, but maybe there were artisans in Japan who spent their lives doing nothing but perfecting this very matter.
Nevertheless, she remained firm.
"Please don't worry about such trifles, Miho-san. I assure you I will enjoy the festival as easily in my own clothes as in traditional Japanese garb. If this experience is diminished by the sartorial misfit, well, there are always other festivals, are there not?"
Miho seemed unconvinced by this line of reasoning, but they had reached the front gates of the mansion by now, where horses and carriage were waiting in the dim light before dawn. Miho's husband was helping the servants pile the last of the luggage onto the roof, somehow contriving to reduce a creaking, swaying mountain of boxes and cases into a neat, compact stack, easily lashed down with secure rope.
"Rather than myself," Minerva continued, "how long will you be at, er... Nagano, was it?"
"Oh, yes, Ryoutarou and I will be there for, um, two weeks? Taking care of some business, but it's a lovely place to visit! You really should come along one day, Margatroid-san, if you've got the time, of course. I mean, it might be a little out of the way, but Lake Suwa is absolutely beautiful. Oh, but you really should stay here in Gensokyo for all the festivals and traditions, and we have a lot of them, and I hope Aya will be able to explain all of it, since there's such a fascinating-"
"All right, Miho-san, that will be enough," Minerva interrupted with a laugh. "Off with you, and have a safe journey."
"Pass along my goodbyes to Aya for me later, would you? She's always so stubborn at waking up early in the morning."
Minerva eventually did so, as she sat with Aya for breakfast a few hours later. Aya muttered something indistinct in response, as she waited for her brain to fizzle its way to true consciousness.
"Where's Alice?" Aya asked, when she finally achieved human sapience.
"Still asleep," Minerva replied. "She stayed up all night working on that doll's dress. I am glad to report that her efforts have not been in vain, and the doll is now suitably attired to face whatever the world may bring."
"Ah? And as for Alice herself?"
"Beg pardon?"
"Does Alice have any suitable clothing for the festival?" Aya clarified. "And please don't force your own views about outlandish fashions onto her, Margatroid-san. I have it on good authority that the child has been rather speculatively eyeing some of the examples Miho had brought out for the two of you."
"It is not about my views on fashion, Aya-san," Minerva said. "I do not have any particular grievance against the concept of the kimono, or the yukata, or whatever you might call it. You, for one, have been wearing a fine example of such on every occasion I have seen you, and it is a tremendously refined expression of taste and class. If little Alice wishes to wear a kimono, it is not my place to object, and indeed I would welcome such a decision, for I am certain she will be just as adorable in that attire as she is in any other. No, my sole cause for hesitation before letting that garb adorn my person is entirely practical: I simply will not be able to move in a kimono, Aya-san."
"You expect some event that will require swift action?"
"It does no harm to be prepared." Minerva held up a hand. "I do not claim that there will be an incident at the festival. I expect this evening to proceed with no more discomfort than the well-deserved consequences of over-imbibing. Nevertheless, I would feel ill at ease in clothing I have not had a chance to be familiar with. As I told Miho-san, there are always other festivals."
"Hm." Aya refrained from further comment until she had finished her breakfast. "At the least, I trust you will have no objections to waking little Alice and measuring out her kimono?"
"Certainly none on my end. Alice's opinion is another matter."
The little girl was duly rousted from her bed, but voiced no clear objection, as far as Minerva could interpret her sleepy mumbles. Alice remained in a soporific trance as a cheerful matron of a maidservant bustled about with the prospective kimono, which Minerva understood had once been Miho's own, a long time past. It was a simple affair; rather than the riot of colours most Japanese women wore while somehow making it seem tasteful and understated, this one consisted of a pink checkered grid overlaying yet more pink, and a waist sash of a deeper pink.
"Miho's favourite colour," Aya sighed, in response to Minerva's raised eyebrow. "She does not lack imagination as such, but she does tend to gravitate towards the simplest solution to a problem. As long as it is pink, she does not much dwell on the details of pattern, style, and occasionally taste."
Minerva gleaned from the proceedings that only minor adjustments would need to be made, and the kimono would be ready well in time for the festival. Alice seemed content with the pink on pink kimono, or perhaps she was still too drowsy to consider the consequences. Indeed, by the time Alice had finished preparing for the day and broken her fast, she wore the bemused expression of one who was reconsidering a choice barely remembered, and who would probably have changed her mind if she knew what her original mind had been.
The three of them, plus the requisite two servants trailing discreetly at a distance, ventured forth towards the village, which had taken on a sizzling anticipatory atmosphere. Preparations for the festival were well underway, facilitated by pithy commands shouted across great distances. A holiday spirit hung in the air, and not even the ominously heavy clouds overhead could dampen the general enthusiasm.
Immigrants Minerva and Alice peered up at the skies worriedly, but Aya was unperturbed. "The festival will happen, rain or shine," she informed them. "If it should be unfeasible, it can always be delayed. But this festival is of some importance to the village, having been held for as long as memory."
"A day where the village can gather to celebrate," Minerva mused. "An excuse to celebrate, rather. And, of course, there is the ever-present call of Tradition."
"Just so."
"Is it all fairground foods and drinks of a suspiciously homebrewed nature? Ale and cider and beer, with massive kegs containing something unidentifiable that purports to be made of apples." Minerva paused. "Well, mostly apples. But Japanese drink rice wine, don't you?"
"Among others," Aya allowed. "Most of it is, as you rightly suppose, of varying alcoholic strength, tending towards strong and building up from there. In any case, there are also carnival activities to provide entertainment, along with the main events."
They had reached the main square, where a squat wooden tower was being set up by workmen who had presumably been doing this every year, and thus developed the uncanny telepathy of efficiency common to such groups. Minerva craned her neck, but could not see Seiji in their midst.
Alice skipped ahead a few steps, curious. She had insisted on bringing along her newly-finished doll, now bedecked in a red dress tied with lace and ribbons. The doll was as yet unnamed, but Alice had assured Minerva that she was giving the matter serious consideration.
"Don't get too far away, Alice," Minerva called out after her. "And do stay out of the way of the... whatever it is. What is it, Aya-san?"
"The central attraction," Aya said. "Or it will be, at any rate. There is a sort of... odori. A dance, performed by whoever is willing to join in, and open to all. The steps are well-known, and passed down from generation to generation. It is not difficult to learn."
Alice, returning from her explorations, overheard the last of the conversation. Concentrating, she pirouetted in place, ending with a questioning glance at Aya.
"Not quite," Aya said, suppressing a chuckle. "You will have an opportunity to observe and learn the dance yourself tonight, Alice. You may join in at any time you wish, once it is underway."
"Will you be dancing as well, Aya-san?" Minerva asked.
"Perhaps. One or two rounds, should the mood strike me. But I will most likely be observing another dance, down that direction." Aya indicated a broad street with a wave of her hand. "A stage will be set up there, and the Hakurei shrine maiden will be performing a kagura for the gods."
"Another of her duties as a shrine maiden, I take it?"
"Yes. This festival is meant to celebrate and honour the goddess responsible for a bountiful harvest, after all. In times past, the kagura would be held at the Hakurei shrine, but convenience being what it is, a Hakurei shrine maiden several generations ago consented to perform it here in the village instead. And so it has been, since then."
The conversation was shifted to the teahouse facing the main square, where they could observe the festival preparations in the shade. Tea and snacks materialized with no visible currency exchanging hands; Minerva wondered if the name of the Hieda family was considered lofty enough for actual direct payment for trifles to be considered gauche.
"Ow!" Alice exclaimed, snatching her fingers back from the steaming sweet potatoes presented in a basket.
"Careful there, Alice," Minerva said, rather too late. "No harm done, I hope?"
Alice shook her head, glaring at the sweet potatoes and sucking on her scalded finger. With more care this time, she managed to extract one that was not so hot, and peeled back the skin, puffing at the revealed flesh to cool it down.
"Sweet potatoes are a seasonal specialty," Aya said. "Roasting them in dried autumn leaves is a tradition. They are often considered to be a sign of the season, and representative of the bounty of the harvest. Ergo, representative as well of the harvest goddess."
"Does this goddess have a name?" Minerva wondered.
Aya shrugged. "She is known as Autumn. Or, I should say, they are known as Autumn."
"They?"
"The two goddesses of Autumn, each with their own jurisdictions and responsibilities. The Autumn goddess of the harvest is the more well-known one, and the one we celebrate with festivals and offerings. The other goddess is of the changing leaves, when the trees turn to red and yellow and brown. And thus are we reminded of the beauty of Autumn alongside the bounty."
Minerva took a sip of her tea. "It feels somehow appropriate that, having come to the other side of the world, the seasons will take on different, almost opposite themes. Of course, summer and winter all fall on their proper months, unlike Perth. Yet it seems backwards for autumn to be a season of plenty, and spring to be associated with death and demise."
"You misunderstand, Margatroid-san," Aya said. "Spring, when the cherry trees bloom, signify the transitory nature of the world, as all things must pass eventually. And yet while we remember the ephemeral impermanence of the world, we may still appreciate and enjoy the beauty while it is present."
"Memento mori? A rather gloomy outlook."
"It has nuances," Aya said dryly. "Remind me to tell you of the poet Saigyou some day."
"I think I may have come across that name in one of the books Hakurei-san lent me... my goodness, Alice, how many sweet potatoes has it been?"
Alice swallowed her latest mouthful guiltily, and mumbled a sound that resembled something along the lines of "three".
"I would suggest refraining from consuming any more tubers for now," Minerva said. "You wouldn't want to get sick and miss the festival, would you?" Relenting: "If you'd like, we can buy some to take back to the mansion for later."
This arrangement was met with general agreement, and the proprietor of the establishment presented Minerva with a bag of sweet potatoes that was probably moderately pricey. Once again, no vulgar currency exchanged hands, and Aya murmured genteel pleasantries before sweeping out of the teahouse.
Minerva glanced behind long enough to confirm that the servants were still there. This particular pair were two of a kind, male and impassive and quite possibly stamped out of granite. Minerva wondered if the servants drew lots every time Aya decided to venture outside the mansion, and whether escort duty fell to the winners or losers.
"Have you considered participating in the festivities?" Aya asked suddenly.
"I thought I was," Minerva said, puzzled.
"Not as a celebrant. You could perform some feats of magic to entertain the crowds. There are no formal rules for stalls and booths, although it is largely a matter of who gets the prime locations first." Aya nodded to the stalls already being set up. "The crowd tends to channel down this street. The more profitable places are left, out of respect and tradition, to those businesses which have set up their stalls in those places for many years. Competition for any vacancies is fierce, but as a foreign magician, you may have the advantage of being exotic and rare."
Minerva scanned the stalls, but did not recognize the characters for the Kirisame store. "I might consider it for the future, but I'm afraid I haven't prepared much by way of performance materials for today."
"Fireworks?" Alice suggested.
Minerva laughed. "A reasonable suggestion, Alice, but I doubt that I, a Western magician, will be able to teach the specialists of the Orient anything they do not already know. Although..."
"I am aware of your recent exertions at the alchemy shed," Aya said. "Is gunpowder related to the mysterious plan to save Gensokyo that you have been brewing?"
"Er, not exactly." Minerva shifted the bag of sweet potatoes in her arms, redistributing the weight. "To be perfectly honest, I am waiting for certain results to make themselves known. I doubt they will be done any time soon, which leaves me, as it were, cooling my heels. My sudden productivity may be related to my habit of working on unrelated matters when trying to resolve especially tricky problems."
"Such as?"
Minerva looked up. "Such as a way to scale that monstrosity."
Aya followed her gaze. "Margatroid-san, what sort of plan have you come up with that, as an integral step, requires you to climb up Youkai Mountain?"
"Pourquoi non? I don't have to reach the summit, although it would be useful," Minerva said. "Obviously I cannot provide details I do not know myself."
"Youkai Mountain is, as its name would suggest, a haven for youkai. Not one person who ventured up its reaches has ever returned. This largely includes youkai hunters, for we natives of Gensokyo know far better than to try."
"What, not one? Not even a single step?"
"You might, with a very great deal of effort and not insignificant amounts of luck, be able to reach the lower slopes of the mountain," Aya allowed grudgingly. "The odds of survival past that point drop drastically. The youkai there do not welcome visitors, and they suffer trespassers not at all."
Minerva regarded Youkai Mountain once more, as it towered sullenly over the village. "Unless an alternative is found in time for the plan to work, I may have no choice but to make the attempt anyway."
Aya shook her head in disbelief. "Your plan, whatever it may be, sounds more ridiculous by the moment."
"But I do have a plan, though it contains a few tangled knots. I find myself tempted to utilize a Gordian solution at times."
"And while you are busily waving the sword of Alexander around, please take care not to accidentally disembowel any unfortunate bystanders."
"I'll keep that in mind, Aya-san."
-----
Alice, true to prediction, was as adorable in her pink kimono as could be. She was unaccustomed to the sandals that went with the outfit, however, and she had to hold Minerva's hand while she found her balance.
"Are you taking that doll along with you, Alice?" Minerva asked. "You know it would be just as safe here in the mansion, and you would not have to risk soiling its clothes... all right, but that doll is your responsibility, you understand?"
Somehow, through some great force of will, Alice managed not to roll her eyes in exasperation.
The evening sun cast long shadows through the village, tinting everything the same palette as the leaves on the trees. There was already a substantial crowd, and several stall-holders had taken advantage of this to sell their wares early.
Minerva checked the time on the silver pocketwatch secreted in an inner pocket. "Aya-san said she'd be joining us later. Shall we be off, then?"
The crowd seemed to have doubled by the time Minerva and Alice reached the village proper. The heat was just on this side of uncomfortable, particularly with the heavy clouds overhead lending a muggy humidity. The occasional gust of wind brought with it a touch of biting frost; evidently the weather intended its victims to sweat and shiver at the same time.
As such, Minerva's first purchases from the festival stalls were a pair of cheap, disposable fans, made of bamboo with garishly-dyed cloth stretched across the frame. Alice made certain to steady herself before releasing Minerva's hand, but felt the trade for the fan to be worth the risks of stumbling over her own footwear.
A steady thrumming drumbeat emanated from the stage set up in the main square. The sound brought back memories of the other festival Minerva had inadvertantly attended, and where she had escaped the wrath of the tengu. At least this time, not many people were wearing masks; it would have interfered with their consumption of the food and drink being hawked, and most of the masks were hooked at a jaunty angle over an ear.
Thus reminded, Minerva cast about for a stall selling the chicken skewers she was fond of, and found one easily. This prompted a lengthy and complicated interlude involving Alice and her reluctance to relinquish either fan or doll, leaving neither hand free for the food.
"Stick the fan at the back of your obi," Seiji suggested. "The sash around your waist, with the knot at the back. You'll forget the heat easily enough when you're enjoying your food."
Minerva turned to face him. Seiji had apparently been enjoying the byplay between Minerva's fussing and Alice's obstinacy for a few minutes, judging from the wide grin. He did not seem to have dressed up for this occasion, clad in what seemed to be his usual clothing, but Minerva may have been missing the subtle sartorial cues.
"Good evening," she greeted him pleasantly, handing Alice's share of skewered chicken to the little girl. Alice attacked the food vigorously. "Isn't it still a little early in the day?"
Seiji blinked. "Oh, you mean the smell of sake... not mine, more's the pity. I was with the group of old men over there." He waved a hand vaguely. "They gossip like housewives and drink like fish. I am pleased to report that news of your exploits as a topic of discussion have maintained parity, if not accuracy."
"One step at a time, I suppose. Where is your stall, by the way? I didn't see it when I came down to the village this morning."
"Ah, we were a little late in setting up. Maria had to sort out some new wares... anyway, it's over this way."
The Kirisame stall was secreted in a moderately-travelled area, far enough from the press of the main crowds for the noise level to become tolerable once more, but still close enough for a sizable clutch to have formed around the stall. Most of these were children.
Minerva craned her neck to see the main attraction, displayed in pride of place on the counter-top. This was a contraption made of five identical steel balls individually suspended on a wooden frame. Each ball was attached to the frame by two wires of equal length at an isosceles angle, restricting its movement to a single plane. One ball at the edge had been raised, and loosed, allowing it swing back down and hit the others with a clack. This caused the ball at the other end to swing up instead, before swinging back and repeating the process in reverse. The three balls in the middle remained apparently motionless, creating a pleasing symmetry in the clacking rhythm that mesmerized the gathered audience.
"One of our newer acquisitions," Seiji said. "Although I don't see the point in it, myself; it doesn't do anything but click and clack, back and forth. It's strangely fun to watch, of course."
"I've seen illustrations of its like before," Minerva said. "In one of those great big gothical German textbooks. It's not magic, but deals instead in the physical laws of the world. As a model for demonstration, it does its job admirably, as these children can attest." She nodded amicably to the stall-keeper. "Good evening, Maria-san."
"Good evening, Margatroid-san," Maria said. Unlike Seiji, Maria was dressed up for the occasion, with a blue and purple vine design on her kimono. "Welcome to our village's humble harvest festival. I hope it has been an enjoyable experience."
"Exceedingly so," Minerva said. "How is your son? I don't see him around here."
"He's doing well, thank you for asking. He's with his friends; he doesn't need his mother hanging over his shoulder all the time, after all." Maria bobbed her head in greeting. "And hallo to you too, Alice."
Alice returned the headbob with enough grace to meet the minimum standards of politeness, before focusing her attention back on the counter-top toy.
"Will you be all right, Maria?" Seiji asked. "I was thinking, er... that is..."
Maria granted him a cheerful smile. "Go have fun with Margatroid-san. I'll be just fine here. And Margatroid-san, do make full use of Seiji as a guide."
"I will, thank you." Minerva glanced down. "Alice?"
Without looking at her, Alice made little shooing motions with her free hand.
"Fair enough. Guide away, Seiji-san."
Seiji performed this job with respectable competence, Minerva later decided, even if he was surprisingly too shy to continue his wooing, awkwardly begun since... when was it? Seiji had only laid out his trick on the conversational whist-table the previous week, but how long had he been intending to play this hand?
A bout of cheering interrupted her thoughts. A strange, colourful serpent of fabric and wood was winding its way through the mass of revellers, accompanied by yet more musical percussion. Drums, cymbals, and gongs seemed to figure immensely in the folk music of the Orient; Minerva was about to make a comment to this effect, but remembered just in time that her own part of the world had been guilty of bagpipes.
"The dragon god," Seiji explained. "Or a representation of it, anyway. It's one of the things we look forward to during festivals; the performers handling the dragon train for months, just for today."
Minerva watched the dragon undulate sinuously through the crowd, courtesy of the dragon dancers holding the wooden frame and cloth up on bamboo poles. "In Britain dragons are usually a different sort," she said vaguely. "I thought this festival was supposed to be for the harvest goddess? Obviously I don't expect strict monotheism, but would the harvest goddess be jealous of this dragon god taking over her own event?"
"It's... a little more complicated than that," Seiji said diplomatically. "The dragon is our most important god. It is the reason our village can exist, and be prosperous. We thank the harvest goddess for a bountiful harvest, but it is the dragon that gives us the sun and rain and fertile fields to have a harvest in the first place."
Gods and youkai, Minerva pondered. One was worshipped, and the other feared. From Hakurei's descriptions, the gods, while varying in power, were all considered a part of nature, rather than outside it in some abstract celestial domain. Did humans create gods, or did gods create humans?
And how did this apply to youkai, based on Violet's meanderings?
She was aware of Seiji asking her a question. "I'm sorry, my mind was wandering. What was it you said?"
"It's all right, Margatroid-san," Seiji said easily. "I was just asking whether there was some place in particular you wanted to visit."
Minerva paused for a moment, paralysed by indecision. There were too many things she wanted to see in this festival, but few of them enough to stand out. The festival whirled around her, a kaleidoscope of faces and colours and lights and smoke and heat and noise.
A word floated up through her consciousness. "The kagura," she blurted out.
"Oh, the shrine maiden's dance?" Seiji cast his eyes about. "I think... that way."
Fortunately, they managed to arrive at the stage area before the dance was underway. Hakurei was visible in the distance as a figure in white and red, holding various implements of the Shinto religion as Minerva understood it.
Seiji led her to one of the benches arrayed in front of the stage, excused himself, and vanished. When he rematerialized, he was holding refreshments in the form of a squat jug and two tiny cups in an ingenious wooden holder.
"With my compliments," he said, sketching a Western bow. "The sake here is excellent, but I must warn you that it is not lightly drunk by the uninitiated. If you'd like, I can get you something less potent."
Minerva wordlessly poured out a measure of sake into one of the cups, and tossed it back in one gulp. The liquid burned clear and sweet down her throat, warming her pleasantly.
"... not the way I'd choose to enjoy good sake, but I have to applaud your daring," Seiji said, sitting down beside her and pouring himself a cup. "We respect those who can hold their liquor here. Particularly this one, which is strong enough to knock out oni, or so we like to claim."
As she sipped her more sedate second cup, Minerva recalled the entry in the Gensokyo Chronicles about oni, and how their strength was matched only by their propensity for carousing. Then again, overblown boasts about home-brewed alcohol was as common as home-brewing.
The seats were filling up, although Minerva noticed a clear space around herself and Seiji. She managed to catch a fair number of hastily-averted stares, conspicuous by how the starers were attempting to be inconspicuous.
There was no sign of Aya yet, even as the music began, and Hakurei entered stage right.
The shrine maiden's movements had the measured, deliberate hallmarks of ritual, even as she traced a path across the stage that would not have been out of place at any prestigious concert-hall in Europe Minerva could name. The dance felt as choreographed as ballet, but flowed with a primal energy that exuded life and celebration; a performance as befits a dance for the gods.
Hakurei spun, and the bells in her hands chimed; the long ribbons flickered in the air, describing motions that echoed down the ages, from the first dance by the goddess of the dawn and revelry, Ame-no-Uzume. The torches set up around the stage lent their firelight to the scene, casting shadows that joined in the dance. There was nothing else that mattered; there was only the dance, now and forever.
Minerva stood abruptly, and then wished that she hadn't. The alcohol had been insidious, and she stumbled away from the stage and the dance, not stopping until she found a dark, quiet place. She took several deep breaths, trying to clear her head of the sake and the kagura.
She vaguely remembered the sake jar emptying out, most of it having gone into Minerva's cup. She remembered Seiji staring at her in surprise, before laughing quietly. She remembered, much later, Seiji carefully standing, collecting the empty jar and cups, and whispering something about going back to check. Going back where? Going back to the Kirisame stall, of course. To check on how Maria was doing.
Maybe Minerva should check back as well.
Minerva turned, took a step forward, and almost walked into Aya, if Aya hadn't retreated from what was undoubtedly Minerva's alcoholic reek.
"I'll be fine in just a while," Minerva said irritably. "It wasn't that much sake."
"Even a drop is enough," Aya said. "For a drop turns into two, and a cup turns into two, and four, and eight. I am sure I do not need to lecture you on the perils of drink."
"You are safe on that account, Aya-san. What kept you?" For the sun had obviously set some time earlier, and the clouds above hung low enough to reflect the torchlight from the rest of the festival grounds.
"Paperwork," Aya said. "Urgent enough to demand my immediate attention, and yet not important enough to affect anything of note."
"The curse of bureaucracy," Minerva agreed. "I hope you've enjoyed the festival in some way, at least?"
"I should be asking you that question, Margatroid-san. But yes, it was a pleasure to see the kagura once again this year. Hakurei carries out her duties with great skill, on top of significant talent."
"I might visit her later to congratulate her," Minerva mused. "For now, I'm heading back to the Kirisame stall. What of yourself?"
"There are still a few people I have to talk to," Aya said. "I shall meet you there soon."
Seiji had spelled Maria at the stall, which was fortunate for him, as the crowd had thinned significantly by then. "You're still walking in a straight line," he observed. "Very impressive."
"While it would be highly impolite for a well-bred English lady to refer in any way to her alcohol tolerance, the truth is that I am quite good at it," Minerva returned. "How is business?"
"Decent enough. The real profit is in the socializing, though; drinking with the other tradesmen now, means better prices if we need anything in the future."
"But you didn't drink with them," Minerva pointed out. "You drank with me."
Seiji looked embarrassed. "Well, yes. Still..."
Still a profit, in some account-book somewhere, possibly in Seiji's heart. "I've noticed people starting to go home," Minerva said. "They couldn't be preparing for an early day tomorrow, could they?"
Seiji accepted the change of subject with some relief. "Most of us take the day off tomorrow," he said. "It's not a good idea to work through the morning after serious drinking, although there are always some people who try." He brightened up at a new arrival. "Ah, welcome to our humble stand, Hieda-san."
"Kirisame-san," Aya said. "Thank you for taking care of Margatroid-san."
"No, please, it was my pleasure. Please don't think too much of it."
Minerva could guess that there was probably a lot more painstaking etiquette to wade through in other times, but the exchange here was abbreviated by a ragged cheer among the festival-goers still upright and conscious. The cheer swelled to a solid roar of appreciation, as a streak of fire shot up into the night sky, before exploding into a thousand glittering shards.
The first firework barely had time to fade away before its sequel joined it in the heavens. The parade of pyrotechnics went off every four seconds like clockwork, each display at least as dazzling as the one before. Seiji was hollering something unintelligible, a cry that was taken up by the surrounding crowd. Even Aya had a smile of satisfaction on her face.
The final firework launched a full thirty seconds after the previous one, and three minutes after the first. It burst into a dazzling flower, its myriad petals dissolving into lingering motes of light that hung in the aether, a reminder of beauty past.
On cue, it began to rain.
The cheers faded into mutterings about the weather, lively and amused. Minerva caught the tail end of a few witticisms on how the resident deities had clearly seen fit to allow the festival to reach its appointed end before the skies opened up.
"Ah, that's going to be a pain," Seiji said, peering up at the clouds. The rain had not yet progressed beyond a faint drizzle, with a few unexpectedly large clumps of water splashing into the ground, but the rumblings of thunder in the distance promised a more substantial deluge.
"It would be wise to heed that signal and retire, Margatroid-san," Aya said. "We should... Margatroid-san?"
Minerva was looking around, her euphoria draining rapidly into a low, flat dread. All around her, revellers were retreating into shelter, or too soused to care about the elements and being dragged away by friends less inebriated. She quickly tracked the various movements of the people around the vicinity, searching but not finding.
"Where's Alice?" she asked.
