After speaking with both Kratos and Tsubaki, Sora realized that he needed to try and handle this whole sickness thing sooner rather than later. Because there was no way it was just him. Even if he hadn't run into anyone else yet, there had to be some other patients who were suffering in the same way. Thus far he'd been content to just stay outside because the cool air felt good on his flushed face, but in the end he forced himself into the grocery store and over to the bulletin board.

He left two messages: one for the patients at large to try and get a discussion going on what to do about this new problem, and another one for the Arts and Crafts club. Sora hoped that would at least put them on the right path, and he had to admit he felt better after writing those notes.

There wasn't much for him to do in the grocery store when he didn't have an appetite, and so the boy left and stepped outside as soon as he was done. He was going to have to check back throughout the day, but he figured it was going to take the others a while to notice.

Which left him with the same question: where did he go, what did he do? It was hard to think straight when he felt so lousy, but he also had twenty-five dollars burning a hole in his pocket. What would be worth buying even when he was sick? He could get medicine, maybe, but why waste his money on that when the nurses would give it to him when they got back to the institute? This was harder to figure out than it should have been...

[For Snow.]

Any conversation with Edgar was bound to put Guy in the sort of mood that most of his friends resented: a fontech mood. Of course, the machines he came across here weren't technically fontech at all, but even making that sort of correction would have likely caused Luke or Anise to roll their eyes.

Still, that wasn't going to stop Guy from doing as he pleased. There had never been a chance to really stop and get down to his elbows with fontech during their journeys, seeing as they had always been in a rush to get somewhere. And while the gadgets in the electronics store were interesting enough that he could have tinkered with them for days, he was looking for some a little different this time around.

The buses, of course, were off limits, but Guy had definitely noticed the other, smaller vehicles parked around the town. Cars, they were called. But those things were used by everyday people, which probably meant that every now and then, they broke down and had to be fixed. And logic dictated that there had to be someplace where those repairs were done.

It had been a long shot, and Guy had known that, but some wandering away from the main road had actually caused him to luck out. There it was, the sign only barely readable: Monkey Wrench Auto Repairs.

The area where the actual work was done was open for viewing, and there were two men inside who were working on a car. Guy paused for a moment to watch from the outside, and he couldn't help wondering if he could get them to talk to him about all this. If he could just learn a thing or two about how this all worked, it might even turn out to be useful at some point.

[For Claude.]

The antique store was crammed full of things. Most of them were completely pointless without an alchemiter, although Rose was enjoying idle contemplation of what sort of delicate china monstrosity might be formed by the combination of a gilt-edged tea set and a small crystal octopus, perched on a tiny cerulean orb.

The endless, if inaccessible, possibilities were not what had brought her into the building, however. The giant taxidermically-preserved feline had. It had been visible from the street, looming beside the counter, one paw forever raised in greeting or fond farewell. It wore no collar or nametag, and its eyes were dull and staring, but Rose approached it nevertheless. It reminded her of the Sphinx, a bit, which should have been a warning, but it would take more than dying to threaten her love of mythological creatures. Or of cats.

> Rose: go tiger free!