everything is popping off! i can't say for sure what percent we're at with this version of the fic because it mysteriously got longer during the outlining process. maybe 25% of the way through. anyway, enjoy!


Hanana had been dreaming of attending a ball since she was a little girl, but what she hadn't counted on were the nerves. Samama kept telling her not to fidget while she arranged Hanana's hair. (Although Samama claimed she wasn't a hairdresser, she seemed to be doing a pretty good job.)

Getting ready was taking longer than expected. Hanana had had a bath, then she'd put on her underclothes, then Putata had sat her down so that he could apply small touches of cosmetics. (He also said he wasn't qualified to fix her make-up, but the principals of painting canvases and faces seemed fairly similar. All in all, he'd done a decent job.) Now she had to wait while Samama curled and tied up her hair, which seemed determined to escape whatever binding it was put in.

"I'm almost done," Samama reassured her. She was dotting the hairstyle with miniature flowers. "Try to calm down. We're not even there yet."

"I can't help it. There's a lot on my mind."

"You'll do fine. At the ball and on the mission."

Hanana tried to take deep breaths. I look so strange, she thought. There wasn't much on her face, but she had never worn powder before. Or paste. Or anything. Her skin seemed so flat. If it wasn't for the little bit of pink Putata had dusted on her, she'd look like a doll.

"There we are," Samama said, pinning the last flower. "You look lovely."

"So, do you," Hanana said, smiling at her in the mirror.

Samama was already fully dressed. She wore a shade of red that matched her hair, which was done up like Hanana's, but without the flowers. When she moved, light danced off of tiny beads sewn into her dress. Samama seemed regal and commanding, a true lady of society. Hanana couldn't help thinking that—next to Samama—she seemed like a faded imitation.

"Thank you." Samama stepped away from the chair. "Alright. Time for the dress. And then Mekeke and Putata said they have a surprise for you."

The completed dress was a masterpiece. Hanana was almost reluctant to put it on. Somehow, Nuii had taken a cast-off and completely transformed it. All those hours of pinning and re-pinning and measuring had paid off. It was light blue, embellished with flowers like the ones in her hair. Though it didn't glitter like Samama's, Hanana couldn't deny it was attention grabbing.

Samama had to help her into it. It was the second time Hanana was wearing the finished piece and she was still surprised by everything about it. Mostly the neckline. Nuii and Samama had told her this was a modest look, but Hanana wasn't used to showing so much skin. And once Samama had buttoned up the back, Hanana was reminded of how snug it was.

"I feel awkward," she said, turning around. "Am I going to be able to dance in this?"

"Everyone does." Samama opened the bedroom door. "She's ready."

Hanana walked into the sitting room. Putata and Mekeke had been hunched over the table, working on something. They both looked up.

Putata whistled. "I can't even recognize you," he said.

"You shall go to the ball!" Mekeke said, getting to his feet. "But the fairy godmother's spell isn't done yet. Come over here."

Hanana, blushing, came closer. Mekeke picked something up from the table. It glittered in his hand as he held it up. Hanana failed to hold back a gasp. It was a necklace. She didn't know what it was made out of, but the chain was silver and the stones—if they were stones—were clear.

"I made it," Mekeke said. "It's amazing what you can do with glass and a little heat."

Putata held up a pair of matching earbobs to his own ears and grinned. "Don't forget these."

Hanana lowered her hand from her mouth. "For me?"

"No, they're for Giruru," Mekeke said, rolling his eye. "Of course, they're for you. Here, turn around."

Hanana let Mekeke fasten the necklace for her. She was concerned about the earbobs at first, before Putata fastened one to his earlobe and revealed they simply clipped on. Laughing, he switched them to hers.

"Look at you," he said. "You're like a princess."

"No, not at all!" Hanana shook her head.

"Oh! One more thing," Mekeke said. He handed her a paper fan. "Now you're ready."

Hanana could feel herself getting choked up. She tried to hold it back. "Thank you. I never thought… well. I'm going to do my best tonight. I won't fail."

Mekeke and Putata shared a glance, then each put a hand on her shoulder. They didn't need to say anything. Hanana felt a little calmer. She wished she could hug them, but it might wrinkle the dress. Hopefully, whatever she had to do, it wouldn't get in the way.

Once she had on her wrap, hat, and gloves, Hanana and Samama started to leave. They were at the door when Mekeke called out.

"Hanana! Remember what I taught you." He made a fist. "Go for their nose."

Hanana made a tentative fist and smiled weakly.


"Everything will be fine," Samama whispered as she and Hanana climbed the steps to the warrant officer's house. She squeezed Hanana's arm for added assurance.

They were following a stream of well-to-do guests inside. So far, no one had spoken a word to them. No one even spared them a second glance. Hanana couldn't believe it. She was blending in. Her hand brushed over the secret pocket sewn into her skirt where she'd be able to put the papers. It was also where Samama's device was hidden. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it.

A servant was waiting for them at the door. Samama presented their invitations. Hanana held her breath while he looked them over. Even though Putata had done an excellent forgery job, there was still a chance it might be recognized as a fake.

The servant placed the invitations into a silver box at his side. He gestured for them to enter. "Right this way," he said with a smile.

Hanana let Samama pull her into the brightly lit foyer. The next few minutes were a blur. Servants took their outerwear, while others directed them further inside. Hanana tried to remember the information Gyororo had given her about the layout of the house. According to him, the study was on the left side. She tried to take note of her surroundings.

"All these people…" Samama muttered as they passed into the ballroom. "The majority of them are officers in the military. I've never seen this many dress uniforms in one place."

"Well, it is a military ball," Hanana said. It felt like going to a party with a host of policemen. She shifted an inch closer to Samama. "Which one is Bariri?"

Samama pointed discreetly toward a small circle of decorated military men. Only one of them was in tails rather than a uniform. He looked nervous, but happy. At first Hanana thought Samama was pointing at someone else, but her finger was aimed directly at that one.

"A warrant officer is a high rank, isn't it?" Hanana asked.

"Yes."

"He doesn't look like I expected him to."

"No. Apparently he has some kind of nervous disorder. No one knows what caused it. He's still well-respected, of course. Otherwise there wouldn't be so many people here." Samama nudged Hanana away from the circle. "They're going to start dancing soon. Let's wait over by the refreshments."

Hanana tried not to gawk, but she couldn't help looking around in awe. The floors were so polished that she could see her reflection in them. Crystal chandeliers glittered above her head. All around her, beautifully dressed people were talking and laughing. It felt like it couldn't possibly be real.

The refreshments were kept in a parlor just off the ballroom. Hanana managed to keep her jaw off the floor when she saw the food. Samama beamed.

"This is the best part of any ball," she said.

Hanana drifted over to the table. She didn't even recognize some of the things sitting on those pretty silver platters. She picked up a little colored square. "What's this?"

"It's a petit-fours," Samama said. She took two cups and filled them with punch from a huge, silver tureen. "It's just a little cake."

Hanana bit into it experimentally. It was sweet. "Are these hard to make?"

Samama shrugged. "I've never made them before. I don't really like baking."

Hanana made a mental note to find a recipe. It would make a great gift for Nuii and Gyororo. She wanted to show her appreciation for their help—even though Gyororo had joined in reluctantly. She accepted the cup Samama offered her.

"How long should I wait?" she asked.

"It depends. Once the ball is in full swing, everyone should be distracted enough. And they'll have a few drinks in them." Samama opened her fan. "For now, keep your eyes open."

Hanana and Samama returned to the main ballroom. Hanana watched the dancers. They moved so gracefully. As the next few songs were played and couples changed, Hanana felt a little left out. It looked like fun. Maybe all the things she'd been taught would be for nothing.

Someone tapped her shoulder. Hanana jumped and turned around, coming face to face with Yukiki. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming. He couldn't be here. She and Samama were the only ones with invitations. No one had said anything about Yukiki attending.

"What are you doing here?" Samama demanded.

So, he must have been real, then, if Samama could see him, too. Hanana blinked a few times, as if he'd disappear once she regained her focus.

"I was invited," Yukiki said.

"You were not." Samama snapped her fan closed. "Why wasn't I informed you'd be tagging along?"

"Because you weren't supposed to be. Did you really think Shurara would send an initiate on a mission and have no one go along to report back to him?"

"So, you're spying for Shurara. Typical. You should've done your job properly and stayed back. You're only going to make Hanana nervous."

Hanana raised her fan in front of her face. "I'm fine."

"I need to make sure you're not holding her hand the entire night," Yukiki said. "She has to do it on her own." He switched his attention to Hanana. "Do you have a free dance?"

Hanana nodded. She didn't have to check her card.

"In that case, may I have the next one?"

"I don't approve!" Samama interjected. She stepped forward, putting an arm between Yukiki and Hanana. "You're going to try and make things more difficult for her. She has enough hoops to jump through as it is."

Yukiki rolled his eyes. "Why would I do that? It doesn't benefit me to sabotage her. Shurara wants this mission carried out. I will step in if the lady seems incapable. But from what I've seen and heard, you don't seem to have much faith in her, yourself."

Samama glared at him.

Is she worried I'll fail? Hanana lowered her fan. She had come too far to let either Yukiki or Samama step in on her behalf. And she was tired to being talked over. Hanana pushed Samama's arm aside.

"You can have the next dance," she said.

"Hanana," Samama warned.

"I'm not afraid of Yukiki." Hanana smiled. "Since he taught me, I should save a dance for him."

Yukiki seemed taken aback. "Yes," he said slowly. "I'd like to see if anything stuck."

The current dance finished. There was a round of applause as the ladies and gentlemen bowed or curtsied, then went off to find their next partner. Hanana's heart began to beat faster. She was worried she might be getting in over her head.

Yukiki held out his hand to her.

Hanana didn't give herself time to think. She took it. As he began to lead her away, Hanana looked over her shoulder at Samama, who was watching them with an irritated look on her face. Hanana tried to put it out of her mind. There was no reason to suspect Yukiki of trying to interfere.

The music started. Hanana remembered where to place her hands. She was glad she didn't jump when Yukiki put a hand on her back. So far, the skirt hadn't bothered her, but now it was available to be tripped over or stepped on. She wondered if she should hold it up.

However, once Yukiki took the first step, all those thoughts disappeared. Memories of practice in Yukiki's sitting room came back to her. Her feet moved on their own. Hanana couldn't believe it. She was dancing.

"You're doing very well," Yukiki said, guiding her through a turn.

"Thank you. I had a good teacher."

"Yes, well…" Yukiki cleared his throat. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Hanana nodded. "As much as I can. Gyororo helped me find the study, but I've been trying to think of a way to get there. It doesn't seem the guests are allowed into other parts of the house."

"There are ways around that," Yukiki said. "There are always a few who sneak off."

"How?" Hanana tilted her head.

"Actually, I don't know." Yukiki looked around, his brow furrowing. "I see a few different ways out of the ballroom, but I'm not sure where they lead. You said you know where the study is."

"Um, generally. I know what floor and which side of the house."

"Then we should get you moving in that direction."

The song came to a close. Hanana almost forgot to curtsy to Yukiki. It was surprising, seeing him bow to her. As if she really was a lady. He guided her off the dance floor.

"There should be a staircase somewhere," Yukiki said under his breath. "Maybe even the servant's stairs."

"How do I find those?" Hanana whispered back.

Yukiki glanced around to make sure no one was watching them too closely. He nudged open a door that led out of the ballroom. "I can help you find a way up, but that's as far as I'll go. The rest is up to you."

Hanana nodded. She slipped through the door. There was a hallway on the other side, lined with what looked like family portraits. It was dim. All the light had been trapped inside the ballroom. Hanana suppressed a shiver.

"It seems the only way to go is straight ahead," Yukiki said.

"Seems like," Hanana agreed. She didn't want to be stuck following Yukiki, so she took the first steps down the hallway. She hoped that there was some sort of visible staircase at the end of it. They were on the correct side of the house, so all she needed to do was go up and count the windows.

The hallway ended in a sitting room. It didn't look like it got used much. Hanana dragged an experimental finger through the dust on the mantelpiece. It didn't even move. Meanwhile, Yukiki was circling the room, tapping on the walls.

"There should be another way in and out of here," he said. "Servants aren't supposed to be seen by their masters, so most houses have hidden passageways for them to go through if they're caught off-guard."

Hanana went to test the walls as well. She assumed she was listening for something hollow. She circled the other half of the sitting room, her ear to the wall, until she met Yukiki in the middle, next to a bookshelf.

Their knuckles hit the wall at the same time and Hanana heard it—an open space behind the paneling. She looked up at Yukiki, a smile on her face. And he smiled back at her, a mixture of relief and accomplishment on his face.

Then the door burst open. A man and a woman stumbled in, hand in hand and giggling. Hanana froze for just a second, before she threw her arms around Yukiki's neck. She didn't think; there was no time to think.

Yukiki stumbled. He reacted more from trying to keep his balance than anything else, but he put his hands on Hanana's waist. Hanana tried to wipe the panic off of her face. She was standing on her toes, desperately trying to look like an amorous party-goer.

The man and woman stopped abruptly. Hanana smiled sheepishly at them. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Yukiki's surprised expression shift to a glare.

"Do you mind?" he said in a tone that could've frozen over the whole room.

The man coughed. "Er, sorry. So sorry. If you'll excuse us." He shuffled backwards, closing the door behind him.

Hanana and Yukiki sighed in unison. Hanana let her arms slide off his shoulders. Then, for good measure, she took half a step back.

"I didn't know what else to do," she said.

"Don't worry about it," Yukiki said, though he sounded tense. He cleared his throat. "Quick thinking. Shocked it actually worked."

Hanana changed the subject. "Anyway, how do we open this?"

Yukiki seemed glad to switch his focus to the hidden doorway. He felt around the wall some more. "Do you feel a seam anywhere? Maybe there's a mechanism."

"In some of the serials I used to read, people opened secret passages by pulling a book off the shelf."

Yukiki scoffed. "I suppose you can try, but this isn't one of your serials."

Hanana went to the bookshelf. She tested a few. Nothing happened. Most of the books seemed to be volumes of military history and strategy. (Hanana couldn't think of anything more boring to read about, but to each his own.) If one of the books is fake, she thought, maybe it will be different from the others so that the servant can find it easily. She started examining the spines more closely. Eventually, she stumbled across a thin, blue volume titled, A Practical Guide to Mushrooms.

"Well, it's not military history," she muttered, and pulled on it.

There was a mechanical click. The wall panel Yukiki had been feeling around popped open. He sprang back, then looked at Hanana and the bookshelf.

"Oh look," Hanana said. "I was right."

Yukiki grimaced. "I'm starting to think that you are the perfect fit for this mission." He pulled the door back an inch and peered inside. "You're in luck. There are stairs."

Hanana looked in as well. It was dark, but she could make out the faint shape of a narrow staircase leading up to the next floor. She gathered her skirts.

"I suppose this is it," she said.

Yukiki nodded. He stepped aside, holding the door open for her. "Be careful. And don't damage your dress going up. You'll look suspicious when you rejoin the ball."

"I will." Hanana stepped into the servant's passage. It smelled like old wood and dust. There weren't any railings, but the walls were so close that they probably weren't necessary. Hanana wondered if she'd even fit her dress up there.

"Hanana…" Yukiki looked at the ground. He was silent a few moments, then looked back up. "Good luck."

Hanana smiled. "Thank you."