Illya tucked her hands into her pockets, puffing out her cheeks. It was a bit cold for the end of February, but at least it hadn’t decided to snow. She wouldn’t have been entirely surprised, certainly, but it was good not to have to worry about wading through snowdrifts on her way to fill her quota of annoying Shirou at however daily a pace she could make of it.
The sky was still mostly overcast, as it had been throughout many of the days of the war, so it was in some ways more familiar than a truly sunny sky would be. She didn’t think it was going to rain, though, so that was good. She didn’t need to end up showing up at her brother’s house soaking wet because she didn’t bring an umbrella along. She paused in step, considering--how should she poke fun at Shirou today? Maybe she could try rearranging the junk in his storehouse. He seemed to have it in some particular order, so that might throw him off.
The white-haired homunculus noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and turned, spying someone unusual on the opposite side of the intersection. Of course, she herself didn’t look very Japanese despite being half-Japanese, but many of the people in Fuyuki were Japanese, so it was easy to notice when someone wasn’t. That, and...she wasn’t sure, but something definitely seemed--different about that girl. And, well, she could bother Shirou any day, so wasn’t it better to find out what was going on here?
She crossed the street, coming up next to the stranger, her head canting to the side slightly in a vaguely curious way. “Are you lost?” she spoke up, shifting her feet. “I’ve never seen you around Fuyuki before.”
