Once you come, you don't really want to leave.

Miststar Town has no original inhabitants.

I only discovered this later. Everyone who lives here—or rather, every kind of being—somehow ended up here one day, stopped at some intersection, and thought, 'Ah well, I'll just stay here.'

No one asks 'Where did you come from?' nor 'Why are you here?' It's not that they don't want to know—it's just not important.

What matters is that you are here now.

Cat-Fox

That's me.

The agility of a cat, combined with the mystique of a fox. Ears slightly longer than a cat's, tail a bit fluffier than a fox's—right in between, yet belonging to neither.

Cat-Foxes are born conductors of emotion. Whatever others feel inside, we can smell, taste, even feel on our skin—like a faint static electricity. The upside is we can make perfectly seasoned desserts; the downside is we tire easily. Crowded places are unbearable—not because of the noise to the ears, but to the nerves.

Most Cat-Foxes become pastry chefs, therapists, or artists. Not because these professions 'suit' us, but because these are all we can do—more precisely, we can only do things that 'bring us close to people without having to explain ourselves.'

There is currently only one Cat-Fox in Miststar Town.

That's the one writing this.

Water Mist Sprite (Forest Stream)

They are translucent.

They usually hide near the streams of the Morning Mist Forest. If you aren't paying attention, you'd mistake them for reflections on the water. Stare at that patch of reflection long enough, and it suddenly moves—then you realize it's not light.

Water Mist Sprites have no language, but they mimic whatever you give them. Give them a cookie, and they become a translucent cookie. Give them a flower, and they become a translucent flower. The form can last for a few hours, then slowly dissipate back into a lazy wisp of mist.

They don't speak, but occasionally they show affection in their own way—for example, when you're sitting by the stream daydreaming, it will quietly transform into a small object near your hand and then lean closer.

I once gave a Water Mist Sprite a small piece of matcha cookie. It was overjoyed and stayed in the shape of a cookie for an entire day. The next morning, I saw it was still holding on, so I gave it another piece.

Flower Spirit (Spring Limited)

Flower Spirits only appear in certain seasons.

To be precise, they only appear when 'they feel it's time.' Most often in spring, but if spring is late one year, they'll be late; if winter is particularly warm, they might get confused.

They convey emotions through petals. No metaphor—it's real:

• Cherry blossoms mean 'brief brilliance.'
• Dandelions mean 'courage to journey far.'
• Gardenias mean 'wanting to hold onto a moment.'

When a petal touched by a Flower Spirit falls on your shoulder, you inexplicably remember something you had forgotten. Maybe a candy you ate as a child, maybe the voice of someone whose face you can no longer recall. The Flower Spirit doesn't know what you're thinking—it just scatters pollen, and the rest is up to your memory.

This has happened several times. Each time, I stand frozen, waiting for that emotion, welling up from nowhere, to slowly recede.

Stardust Watcher (Starfall Plains)

A huge, hazy humanoid figure made of stardust.

He isn't even necessarily 'alive.' He doesn't speak, and has no scent of emotion. The first time I met him, I sat beside him for an afternoon, like sitting in the shadow of a mountain.

Day after day, he polishes the crystals on the Starfall Plains—those massive stones that glow and dim like a heartbeat. Once one is clean, he moves to the next. His movements are slow, but he never stops.

Later I learned that he was once the last sorcerer of a civilization.

That civilization no longer exists. He sealed the entire clan's emotional memories into the crystals of the plains—anger, attachment, regret, words left unsaid—and after sealing them, he transformed himself into a guardian spirit, waiting for someone who can understand and bear these memories.

How many years has he waited? He didn't say. Perhaps he himself has forgotten.

His parting gift to me was an old radio. More on that another time.

Occasional Passing Travelers

The roads into Miststar Town have more than one entrance.

Occasionally, others pass through—not as residents, but as people who got lost or just happened to end up here. They usually don't talk much. Some sit for a while in Starlight Square, some come to the bakery for a cup of hot tea, and some just pass by and are gone by dawn.

Sometimes they leave things behind:

A note with a cryptic sentence. A button with threads still attached. A short pencil stub, sharpened but still usable.

The bakery's windowsill has collected quite a few. Small items without owners—yet each carries a story I don't know.

I won't ask. The rule of Miststar Town is: if you want to talk, you talk. What you don't want to say will stay on the windowsill by itself.

Next Time

That concludes the introductions of the neighbors. But you might have noticed—I haven't mentioned the weather.

The weather in Miststar Town is different. Its rain and sunshine may not be caused by what you think.

See you in the next chapter.