Quillan stepped in, hands still dusted faintly with soil, eyes bright. "Ah—finished already?"
Adrian looked up. "Yes."
Quillan approached the table, then paused when he saw the two cards. He blinked.
"You did both versions?" His gaze moved from the English to the Japanese, then to Adrian. "That was fast."
Adrian didn't reply. He didn't need to.
Quillan leaned in, reading the kanji carefully, his smile widening. "And properly formatted too. You even used the right poetic structure." He chuckled softly. "I should ask you both for help more often."
He looked around then, glancing toward the hallway. "Where's Mira?"
Adrian answered without expression. "Cleaning her face."
Quillan blinked. "Cleaning—?"
There was a pause. Then he noticed the brush pen sitting at Adrian's side. And something in his expression shifted slightly—still friendly, but now tinged with the kind of amusement that belonged to people who had once been young and reckless themselves.
He didn't press.
He just chuckled again and sat down slowly, glancing once more at the finished work. "You two make a good pair," he said casually.
Mira returned a few minutes later, her face freshly washed, cheeks slightly pink from scrubbing, and a few wisps of silver hair clinging to her temple where the water hadn't fully dried. She walked in with a quiet dignity—as if nothing at all had happened—but her eyes flicked straight to Adrian, narrowing for just a second before she settled back into her spot across from him.
Adrian didn't look at her directly. But he did reach for his tea with deliberate ease, the faintest glint of amusement still resting in the corner of his eyes.
Quillan glanced between them once, clearly reading the unspoken energy in the room, but said nothing of it. Instead, his eyes twinkled above his teacup.
"If you two aren't in a rush, I was thinking of firing up the grill tonight. Nothing fancy—just some good smoke, grilled veggies, and old stories. A few of the neighbors might wander over too." He added, "They won't bite… and even if they do, it's just fake teeth. You'll survive."
Adrian chuckled softly, while Mira tried to hide a smile behind her teacup.
"You've already earned your dinner with all that plant-lifting," Quillan added, pushing back from the table. "So what do you say?"
Adrian stretched his legs out slightly under the table, giving a slow nod. "I'm in."
Mira blinked, eyebrows raised. "Really? I thought you were always busy."
Adrian smirked. "Not anytime Quillan pays me in BBQ."
Quillan let out a hearty laugh. "Don't hold a grudge, boy. You're just not lucky. You always vanish the moment your work's done—like some plant ghost."
He turned to Mira. "And you, my dear?"
"I'd love to." Mira said with a smile. "I'm not about to turn down grilled food and mysterious neighbors."
"Splendid." Quillan stood and stretched, then glanced at the fading afternoon light.
Just then, Quillan returned, now in a loose cotton shirt and carrying a small tube in hand. He held it out toward Mira with a crooked smile. "Here, take this. Insect repellent. The mosquitoes around here are starving—especially for young flesh."
Mira burst out laughing. "Thanks, Mr. Quillan. I'd rather not become their dinner before ours."
She popped the cap and gave the tube a sniff. "Oh, lavender," she said in delight, then dabbed and spread it along her arms and legs. Adrian watched, leaning on his elbow, quietly amused by the whole scene.
She noticed and turned toward him, narrowing her eyes. "Don't look at me with that face."
He blinked. "What face?"
"The one that says I'm a special species," she replied, smoothing the lotion over her shin. "Like a talking raccoon or something."
Adrian couldn't help the low chuckle that slipped out. "Noted," he said, turning his head away with a grin, "no raccoon comparisons."
The lavender scent hung softly in the air between them, carried on the early evening breeze, as the warmth of the sun began to dip into a cooler, golden calm.
Quillan reappeared from the house again, now with a broad straw hat perched loosely on his head and a folded grill tucked under one arm. "Alright, kids," he called cheerfully, "time to move. If we all help, maybe two rounds will do."
He handed out the loads—Mira took the basket full of freshly rinsed vegetables and herbs, the colors vibrant against the wicker. Adrian carried the heavier cooler stacked with marinated meat and foil-wrapped fish, still cold to the touch. Quillan himself hoisted the bag of charcoal, the folded grill clinking against its frame with each step.
Together, they followed a narrow path that curved behind the house, threading through rows of slender trees dressed in autumn gold. The canopy filtered sunlight down in soft, broken beams, and the crunch of leaves underfoot was steady and companionable. Mira walked a step behind the two men, smiling to herself as she watched them—Quillan's careful, steady gait, Adrian's effortless balance even with the weight.
Then the path opened up.
The light changed—brighter, clearer. The trees gave way to a broad riverbank, where a gentle stream glimmered over smooth, round stones. The water was shallow, babbling softly over the rocks, and the air carried a light, fresh scent that mixed with the lingering lavender from earlier.
"Here we are," Quillan announced, stepping onto the rocky field. "Perfect spot for grilling. Not too windy."
He set the grill down, crouched, and started opening up the frame with practiced hands. Then he looked up. "Could you two head back for the rest? Chairs, drinks, and the folding table—should be by the back door."
"On it," Adrian said with a nod.
Mira gave a mock salute. "Aye, captain."
And with that, the two turned back up the path, the trees behind them still whispering with every breeze, the air now holding that promise of a cozy fire and warm food by the water.
As Adrian and Mira made their way back up the winding path, dusk had already settled behind the trees. The forest canopy that had shimmered golden in daylight was now shadowed in deep blue, and the sun had dipped beneath the horizon, leaving a soft indigo glow. Overhead, a full moon had risen, pale and luminous, casting silver light over the leaves and illuminating their path like a quiet lantern in the sky. The air had turned cooler, but pleasantly so, with the scent of damp earth and distant smoke just beginning to drift from the riverbank.
They walked side by side, not in any particular hurry.
"I didn't think I'd meet you here," Mira said, breaking the quiet with a soft laugh, her eyes catching the moonlight as she glanced at him. "And not just that—an impromptu BBQ. It's like some strange fate at work."
Adrian smiled, his steps relaxed on the uneven path. "You say that like you haven't already made yourself at home. You acted like this was your house and you've known Quillan for years. That's a special skill, I think."
She grinned. "Oh, well, thank you. I'm excellent at friendly infiltration. But I must say… I didn't expect you to be here either. I always thought you were the 'please do not talk to me unless it's about nuclear fusion or lab safety protocols' type."
Adrian gave a quiet chuckle. "You're not far off. I don't usually… mingle. And Quillan's not much of a talker with me either."
"Oh?" Mira raised an eyebrow, mock-scandalized. "Then clearly, I've brought a special sparkle to this gathering. Shed light on this mysterious artist-scientist friendship. Witness the power of me—bridge-builder of worlds."
Adrian laughed outright this time, the sound echoing gently in the crisp air. "Connecting the souls of artists and scientists. I'll put that on your résumé."
She gave a theatrical nod. "Please do. Put it right under Professional Vegetable Picker and Amateur Mosquito Repellent Model."
They both laughed again, their voices mingling with the rustling of leaves and the gentle call of night insects. And for a moment, under the soft light of the full moon, the quiet forest path felt like the center of the world—where time slowed, and everything else could wait.
As they walked back along the tree-lined path, the full moon casting a gentle glow over the stones, they spotted a group approaching from the opposite direction—six elderly neighbors, around sixty-five or so.
Four women and two men, all bundled in cozy autumn wear, chatting cheerfully as they carried various supplies. One woman balanced a large jug of homemade juice with a sack of ice slung over her shoulder.
Another had a basket full of fruits and what looked like handmade snacks wrapped in checkered cloth. The men were hauling foldable chairs, a small collapsible table, several skewers of marinated meat and vegetables, and a tall bottle of sake that clinked gently as they walked.
Without missing a beat, Mira raised her hand high and called out brightly, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! You must be Quillan's neighbors for tonight's grand BBQ!"
The group looked up, smiling warmly.
"Well, good evening!" one of the women said. "And who might you two be? Quillan's new guests?"
Mira grinned mischievously. "We're Quillan's granddaughter and grandson."
One of the old men blinked in surprise, nearly tripping over a stone. "Is that so? Didn't know Quillan's grandkids were all grown up already!"
Mira burst out laughing. "He just adopted us this afternoon."
There was a short pause, and then the whole group broke into loud, hearty laughter. Adrian couldn't help but grin, shaking his head in amused disbelief.
A woman with short silver hair leaned forward, playfully curious. "Oh? And where did he find you two to adopt?"
Mira pointed her thumb over her shoulder. "He picked me up in the bushes near Vermillion Crown Academy."
Then she gestured to Adrian. "And this gentleman here? Found him loitering in his botanical garden."
More laughter erupted, echoing under the moonlight. Adrian gave a small mock bow as if to confirm his wild garden origins, and the group kept chuckling all the way down the path toward the river.
As their footsteps crunched softly over the round river stones, the woman with the citrus drink turned slightly toward Mira. "Well then, if we're going to share a grill tonight, we might as well know each other's names. I'm Margaret Bennett—call me Maggie. I live just across the old bridge. If you see hydrangeas in full bloom, that's me."
Mira smiled and nodded. "Lovely to meet you, Maggie. I'm Mira."
Next to Maggie, the plump woman with the fruit basket chimed in cheerfully, "I'm Rosa Jimenez, and this here—" she gave the basket a proud pat "—is a mix of pineapple, apple, and dragonfruit. All cut with love, I swear."
"I can confirm," said the stocky man with the skewers, chuckling. "She won't stop feeding us." He tilted his head toward Mira and Adrian. "I'm Franklin Cook, local BBQ critic and unofficial fire-starter."
The tall, quiet man carrying chairs gave a small wave. "Robert Doyle. I bring chairs. I don't talk much."
"Oh hush," said the woman in the burgundy coat, nudging him playfully. "I'm Clara Evans—he's just shy around new faces. But if you give him sake, he becomes a poet."
The final woman, walking beside Clara, raised the bottle of sake. "Then tonight shall be a poetic one. I'm June Palmer, and I claim no cooking skills, but I pour a good cup."
Mira turned and gestured to Adrian with a flourish. "And this is Adrian. He may look stoic, but don't let the quiet fool you. He's a brilliant conversationalist when cornered."
Adrian gave them a polite smile and a small nod. "Nice to meet you all."
"Likewise!" Maggie grinned. "Welcome to the strangest family dinner you didn't know you needed."
Together, the newly formed group descended through the trees, moonlight filtering through the leaves, laughter and voices weaving into the cool autumn night as the sound of the river grew louder with every step.
As they reached the riverside clearing, the group moved like a small parade—clattering chairs, sloshing bottles, baskets of food swinging, and laughter rippling among them. The fire was already burning strong, casting warm light that danced across the stones and flickered against the leaves above.
Quillan, standing by the firepit, had just finished arranging a few skewers on a small grill when he heard the approaching voices. He looked up, blinking through the smoke.
"Well now," he called out with a chuckle, "you've already become friends? That fast?"
Quillan tilted his head and grinned. "I see that. Well, good timing—the fire's ready. Who's grilling with me?"
"I'll take meat duty," said Franklin, setting down his tray. "Hope your grill's not shy."
Robert followed silently, depositing the chairs and rolling up his sleeves.
"Robert, Franklin," Quillan nodded in approval. "Perfect. Let's feed this crowd."
Mira and Adrian found seats at a nearby table as June, Clara, Rosa, and Maggie joined them, unloading snacks and pouring drinks. The firelight shimmered off the bottle of sake June placed carefully at the center of the table.
As the skewers began to sizzle in the background and the air filled with the smell of seared meat and smoke, June leaned closer, chuckling. "Quillan, you old fox—didn't know you adopted two grandkids today."
Quillan glanced over, raising a bushy eyebrow. "I did what now?"
Rosa smirked, pointing at Mira. "That girl right there told us she's your granddaughter. Said you picked her up from a bush near Vermillion Crown Academy."
Quillan turned to Mira, eyes gleaming, and let out a loud, hearty laugh. "Is that so?"
Mira raised her cup with a shrug, all innocence. "I was abandoned by society, and you gave me shelter."
The whole group burst out laughing again, Maggie nearly choking on her citrus drink. Clara wiped her eyes, still giggling.
"Well," said Quillan, lifting his spatula like a toast, "I suppose it's true then. Family's where you find it—especially in a botanical garden or a bush."
As the laughter mellowed into soft chuckles and the sound of grilling filled the air, Rosa leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Her silver-streaked curls caught the firelight as she gave Mira a knowing smile.
"So," she asked with gentle curiosity, "may I know where you're really from, Miss Mira? Of course, not the bushes."
Mira grinned, unbothered. "Not the bushes, but… very close to that," she said, teasing a sip from her cup as the group chuckled again.
"We're both studying at Vermillion Crown Academy," she continued, more sincerely now. "We stay at the campus dorms. Adrian and I are in different majors though."
She glanced sideways at Adrian with a smirk. "I'm a first-year International Relations student. And Adrian here is… same age, but probably a third-year student in whatever major he wants."
Adrian gave a dry laugh, shaking his head but not denying it. "That's one way to put it."
Rosa raised her brows in amusement, Clara smiled, and June let out a soft hum of interest. "Ah, so scholars and wanderers alike," said June.
Maggie leaned in. "Then this BBQ must be quite the change from cafeteria food, hmm?"
"Oh, absolutely," Mira nodded with dramatic enthusiasm. "Out here under the stars, with gourmet meat smoke and the local legends? We might never go back."
The old ladies laughed again, clearly enjoying her flair, and Rosa winked at Adrian. "You've got your hands full, young man."
He smiled, glancing at Mira with a half-amused, half-exasperated look. "Don't I know it."