Darkness. Few beings in Lordran could claim to not be sobered by the mere thought of it. The events it was directly responsible for. What it represented. Whatever reason among the many to choose from, the Dark oft chilled the spines of those who cogitated over it for any amount of time.
Cogitation beyond the realms of combat wasn't one of Astaire's strong points. Of course, the Dark and its influence was to be fought and feared wherever possible, but that was it. A point on Lordran's roadmap which he need only hop into and hop out of afterwards, Lord Soul fragment in hand. An obstacle. Obstacles didn't instill one with the deep, primal fear the Dark was usually afforded.
But watching people he knew desperately cling to life without hope of escape within it? That would do the trick.
Stirring behind closed eyes, the momentary darkness sent a shock through Astaire that bolted him upright on instinct. As his eyes cracked, taking in the grass in front of him and the slowly descending sunset, shock gave way to relief. He was alive. Gods be praised.
Then the adrenaline from the shock began to wear off. Astaire let out a groan and clenched his teeth as he lay back again. Every single part of his torso hurt. Badly. Fervent pain lingered in his hand, which he'd apparently shoved inside his coat at some point. He couldn't remember doing so himself.
Pain played subordinate to concern as Astaire's thoughts turned to his comrades. It stung like a horde of biting rats, but Astaire forced himself to sit upright. Yu and Yosuke were sat next to Yukiko and Chie, with Teddie lingering not far off. Similarly, Kanji and Naoto slowly regained their senses a short distance away. Admiration for Kanji swelled in Astaire's breast at the sight. He'd held onto her waist until the very end.
Finally, much to his relief, Rise slept soundly beside him. He elected not to wake her, given that he wasn't exactly up to the task of moving himself, never mind anyone else.
Sighing and running his non-searing hand down his face, Astaire tried his best to ignore the pain for now. At the bottom of the hill, he could spy both his and everyone else's weapons, all tossed haphazardly into one pile. The sight of his Zweihander perched atop Havel's Greatshield had him awash with fresh relief. Excellent. One less thing to worry about.
The searing started up again, reminding Astaire that while his weapon was fine, he still wasn't looking forward to picking it up. He took a deep breath and swallowed his hesitation as he retrieved his injured left hand from the confines of his coat. Upon seeing it, he cringed. Long, bloody, horizontal cuts adorned both his hand and wrist. From the looks of the skin surrounding them, loose and asymmetrically parted, it was clear that it'd been torn rather than cut. That alone left little doubt regarding what had caused it. "Well," Astaire thought to himself, "at least nothing else is wrong with me." As far as he could tell.
"W-Whoa!"
"Ah!"
The voices had come from Kanji and Naoto respectively. The former awakening and finding his arm still attached to Naoto's miniscule frame, he'd attempted to withdraw it, but not gently enough to stop her noticing. The two quickly lapsed into an awkward pause, each waiting for the other to speak. "I… um…" Naoto began, eyes wide and hands lingering on where Kanji had held her. "Th-Thank you. I believed… I thought the Abyss might…" What few times Naoto found herself at a loss for words, Kanji couldn't help but flush on instinct.
"N-No problem. Any time." He stammered, waving his arms as he realised how his previous statement could be interpreted. "T-The helping thing, I mean! Not the… the…"
"Of course." Naoto quickly nodded, silencing them both. After a moment, they both eased up and lay back on the grass together, carefully out of reach of the other's limbs.
Watching the two of them brought a smile to Astaire's face. Something about the both of them together was at the same time amusing and rather heartwarming.
"As… taire?" The sound of Rise's voice coaxed Astaire into quickly concealing his hand again. "We're… alright?" She said slowly, pushing herself up and rubbing her eyes. Her eyes flitted between the ground, the sky, and her friends in the distance before the finally settled on Astaire. Without warning her arms were wrapped around him, her head pressed against his right arm. "We did it! We're alright!" She squeaked excitedly.
"Agh! Ms. Kujikawa, please!" Astaire protested as the sudden pressure on his torso sent a fresh jolt of pain through it.
She recoiled with a gasp, looking apologetic as her hands went to her mouth. "I'm sorry! Are you hurt? Is it bad?"
"No, no, I'm quite alright." Astaire lied, shaking his head. "More importantly, how are you feeling?"
"I'm alright, I guess. But…" She trailed off with a gasp, eyes locked on Astaire's coat. A small patch of purple had appeared. "You're bleeding, aren't you?" Rise asked quietly.
"It's nothing. R-Really." Astaire couldn't help but stammer as he struggled to keep his face straight. It was the slightest of missteps, but it was enough to only worsen the worry on Rise's face.
She reached out towards the end of his coat, encouraging Astaire to inch away as best an injured man could. "Astaire-kun…" Rise began softly. With each nudge he made to the side, she nudged along just as much. "C'mon, let me see how bad it is. We might be able to fix it."
While Astaire's knowledge of Personas was anything but encyclopedic, he'd at least picked up that they were only supposed to work in certain places. While Yukiko had been able to fix the divide in his side in the Not-Abyss, he got the distinct feeling that the real world wouldn't be quite as generous.
In spite of his best efforts to the contrary, Astaire couldn't keep Rise away forever. As moving finally became too difficult, the flow of fresh air across his skin alerted him that his secret was out. "Oh no…" Rise's reaction was much as he'd expected. "That's a lot of blood… D-Don't worry!" Rise quickly reached into her pockets and retrieved her phone. "I'll call an ambulance, just hold on!"
"A whatbulance? Don't call anything, I told you that I'm fine!"
The ensuing back-and-forth between the two caught Naoto's ear. "Rise-san, what's the matter?" As she got up to walk over, her ankle seemed to give way underneath her, forcing her to kneel.
"Naoto!" Kanji called out, pushing himself to his feet. With only his left arm, Astaire noted. His right one was hanging limply at his side.
First his hand and wrist, then Naoto's leg, and now Kanji's arm to top it all off. "Ms. Kujikawa." Astaire began, stopping Rise mid-dial. "If we're anything to go by, you're liable to be injured too. Please make sure you're alright."
Her thumb lingered over the 'call' button. "What? But your hand…"
"I'm telling you, I'm fine!" He lied more insistently. "Please, just put that thing away and stand up. Show me you're alright."
Hesitantly, Rise stuffed her phone away and worked her way onto her feet. She seemed stable while she got up, so her legs were fine. Her arms seemed to work as well. "Ow!" Then she'd tried standing up straight, accomplishing nothing but doubling herself over. "What the heck? My back's killing me!" She complained, running her hand over the affected area. The same area Astaire's arm had occupied in the Not-Abyss, he realised guiltily.
"How's everyone feeling? Yu asked as he strode over, Yosuke, the girls and Teddie at his side. "You all look like you've seen better days."
"You can say that again…" Rise rubbed her back carefully, occasionally flinching when she touched certain areas. "Senpai… You've gotta ring Astaire-kun an ambulance, his hand's all-"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Astaire butted in. "If you're going to ring an ambu-whatsit for anyone, it should be Ms. Kujikawa!"
Hobbling be damned, Rise rounded on him, brow lowered. "Stop being so awkward! I'm not the one who's bleeding here!"
"I've been through worse, even in the space of today alone! I insist that you see to your own wounds first!" Astaire rounded back.
Rise let out a sort of frustrated noise as she screwed up her face. Stupid awkward caring knightly idiot.
Luckily, a crack and a yell diverted their respective attentions. "AGH! Damnit, that hurts!" Kanji complained as Naoto tugged forcefully at his limp arm, sounding out another crack. "CRAP! The Hell're you tryin' to do to me?!" He gestured to Naoto, flailing his arms in a rage.
Both arms, he suddenly realised. "A slight dislocation as all, hardly very serious." Naoto assessed, looking sufficiently satisfied with her handiwork. Without much to complain about, Kanji awkwardly scratched the back of his head, mumbling something which sounded thankful. "Unfortunately, I doubt Astaire-san's injury will be as easily fixed."
"Might'a been the way you were holdin' onto that sword of yours." Kanji suggested. "Looked pretty damn sore from where we were sittin'."
Not as sore as it felt. Astaire thought to himself. Determined not to be gotten the better of, he placed his injured hand on the ground for support and slowly got to his feet, leaving a bloody handprint in his wake. Every part of his torso protested, but said protests were drowned out by the overwhelming urge to stand and get better. It still took longer than he'd have liked.
"Say…" Chie piped up. "Don't you still have that bottle of awful-tasting stuff you gave me and Yosuke before? The glowing stuff."
Astaire blinked and stared into space for a beat. "...That's an excellent idea. Why didn't I think of that?" With little hesitation, he retrieved his Estus Flask with his good arm and raised it to his lips. He could've sworn his muscles felt more at ease even before he'd ingested it.
Then he paused.
He'd given Chie and Yosuke a sip each. He'd taken some before meeting Rise in the TV World.
Exactly how much Estus did he have left?
He was human now. Mortal. Death was no longer just an inconvenience, it was the end. Period. Faced with his own mortality, having an instant cure-all would be a great advantage. Being without it, however…
"Well, I suppose I rested at the Shrine before I headed to the Archives. I couldn't have that few sips left, surely." He reassured himself. The base of the flask went up as the estus sunk down Astaire's throat. The skin on his hand quickly stitched back together as the warm sensation spread from his throat to his entire body, washing away his wounds.
Also, Chie was crazy. Estus tasted fine.
With a sigh of satisfaction, Astaire immediately brightened up and turned to Naoto. "That's done it. Now all we need to do is fix Ms. Kujikawa's back and we'll all be fit as fiddles."
"Leave it to me." Naoto walked over with a glint in her eye, putting her back to Rise's and interlocking both their arms. She then bent forwards, lifting Rise entirely off her feet and bending her backwards. A quick squeak from Rise followed a loud cracking sound, after which she hopped of Naoto as quickly as she was able. "There. That should be sufficient."
Lo and behold, Rise marvelled as she stood up straight and twisted around on the spot. "Wow Naoto-kun, you're amazing! Where'd you learn to do that?" She asked, marvelling at her looseness.
Naoto shrugged. "Grampa possesses a varied library. In any case…" She tipped her hat back, looking up at the quickly-darkening sky. "I think it'd be wise if we headed home for today. If we get back too late, traveling through the TV World may prove a more daunting task than usual. For you especially, Senpai."
"I mean, I'd agree with you, but…" Yu stopped to examine his phone momentarily. "...Correct me if I'm wrong, Yosuke, but isn't Junes usually-"
"-Shut by now? Sure is." Yosuke finished for him before a smug smile crept onto his face. "Luckily, you're blessed enough to be friends with the one guy who has…" Something shiny flung out of Yosuke's pocket, which he grasped confidently out of mid-air. "Booyah! A master key! Let's get a move on, shall we?" He jogged up to Yu's side as he began walking off, with everybody closely following behind.
Everybody except for Kanji and Astaire, who diverted their path to head towards the large assortment of gear at the bottom of the hill. "Oh, bother. Getting all of this packed away will take a minute, I fear. I do hope we don't get left behind..." He mused as he set about gathering his belongings, smallest first. Claws, boots, katana grip, crossbow, and finally one of Havel's Greatshields. "Oh, sorry to bother you, Mr. Tatsumi-"
"Dude, seriously. My name's Kanji."
"...I'm aware." Funny, why had he brought that up? "Anyway, would you mind passing me my sword? I'm having enough trouble with these shields as is…" He grunted, dropping the first shield unceremoniously into the box.
"Sure, no sweat." Seeing how the blade had almost turned Astaire into a rack of barbecued ribs, Kanji carefully grasped the grip and hoisted the sword up. Or tried to, at least. To his surprise, he very nearly dislocated his shoulder again just by trying. "What the…? What's this thing made from?! Weighs a frickin' tonne…" In fact, judging by the obvious imprint in the ground, it likely weighed more than a few. "Who makes a sword this heavy anyway?! And who the Hell's s'posed to use it?!"
Putting the next shield away, Astaire turned to Kanji, head tilted. "Don't be ridiculous, if you could lift two of Havel's Greatshields, you…" Yet as Astaire watched Kanji shake the strain out of his hand, it seemed pretty obvious that he wasn't playing around. "...How very odd. Perhaps something's wrong with it." In one easy motion, Astaire stooped down, grabbed the Zweihander's grip and slung it over his shoulder. Kanji gawked at him in much the same way Astaire had gawked at him with the greatshields.
"I 'unno. Maybe I'm just not a sword guy." Kanji wondered out loud, lifting the last greatshield and tucking it under his arm. "Gimmie one of these things any day."
"WH-WHAT?! Wait just one minute!" Astaire yelped, shaking his head in disbelief. "Bishop Havel had that crafted from solid rock! It weighs more than two of these!" He said, motioning to his Zweihander.
"Don't feel like it. Guess I'm just really good with shields or something." Kanji shrugged, letting the last shield drop into the box. "Who even knows, man. Normal ain't exactly in high supply when you hang around here long enough." He crouched down and retrieved the bullet necklace that'd flown off him earlier and looped it back over his head. "Whatever. You'd better get movin' if you don't want to get left behind, I'm gonna shoot off back to my place. Later." He said, walking off with a wave.
Astaire sighed to himself as he put away his sword and closed the Bottomless Box's latches. "Such odd rules this world abides by." He said, turning on the spot and quickly heading after everyone else.
"Yoohoo~!" Rise cooed through her cupped hands, smiling at the long, lingering echo that followed. "I can't get over how different Junes feels when there's nobody around. It's almost a little eerie." She commented, the sound of all four sets of clicking footsteps thick in the air.
Eerie was certainly one word for it. 'Comforting' would've been Astaire's preference. No crowds, no potential assailants around every corner, nothing but the sweet sound of relative silence.
And Yosuke, walking backwards with his hands in his pockets, "Hey. don't go pulling anything too funny! If something's out of place when my Dad gets here tomorrow, that's my ass beat!"
"I thought most kids outgrew that sort of treatment after a while." Yu grinned as Rise giggled behind him. Even Astaire couldn't resist letting slip a snort.
"Oh, shut up, you know what I meant! Just don't touch anything you don't need to, alright? I'm gonna swing 'round the back and make sure the security tapes don't show anything weird come tomorrow morning, go on without me." He said with a departing wave, ducking down one of the empty aisles.
It didn't take long to reach the usual TV set afterwards. Yu and Rise traced the path with practiced efficiency, winding up staring at their own reflections in the screen within minutes. "Hey, Senpai?" Rise turned to ask, "Today was kinda harsh on all of us. Maybe you should go and stay the night with Dojima-san."
"It's a bit late to suggest that after we came all this way, isn't it?" He asked flatly, cracking a smile as Rise's expression darkened. "Don't get me wrong, it'd be nice and all, but explaining how I got all the way out here might be a bit troublesome." He shrugged. "Not to mention explaining why I'd have to leave so early in the morning. I don't think Nanako would appreciate that."
Early in the-? "Oh, shoot!" Rise pounded a fist into her other hand. "I have to up early tomorrow morning!" She swung around to face Astaire, so quickly that he couldn't resist flinching. "What's gonna happen if I don't get enough sleep tonight?! I'll be all over the place!"
Watching Yu gracefully leap into the TV behind her, Astaire stepped up to the screen himself. "All the better we get a move on, then." He said, heading in after Yu. Or trying to, at least. He smacked his hand off the screen, loud enough for a crack to sound out from his fingers. "Agh! Blast, I forgot about that part."
Not having a Persona sucked.
"Oh, come here!" Rise grabbed Astaire's hand and dragged him into the screen behind her. Half a minute later they arrived at the foot of the familiar stack of TVs, and from the looks of things, Yu had even been kind enough to wait on the both of them.
Both of his followers safe and sound, Yu gripped his sword with a second hand. "I'm gonna head on. As much as I'd love to chat, it sounds like both of you need your beauty sleep. Besides..." He turned away to face one of the mist-covered pathways, but not before a wide grin snuck onto his face. "...There'll be plenty of time to talk later, right?"
"Bye bye, Senpai!" Rise called as he ran headlong into the mist.
"Farewell, Mr. Narukami!" Astaire called in turn.
And then there were two. With matching nods of affirmation, Rise and Astaire both turned and began making for the forest.
"Huh? What the…?" Rise trailed off. A trail of monster corpses, charred remains and discarded weaponry dotted the forest ahead of them. "Okay, this is super weird. Shadows never leave corpses. Or at least, they didn't before now…" Rise explained, eyeing up the burnt vestiges of one of the tendril-bearing monsters they'd fought earlier.
It was only when she pointed it out that Astaire began examining the bodies as well. "Really? It's the sort of thing that happens all the time in Lordran." Yet if Lordran had hammered anything into Astaire's head, it was that corpses weren't necessarily an indication of safety. He kept a hand on his Zweihander to be safe. "Though I suppose this isn't Lordran, is it? Perhaps there really is something odd afoot."
Rise remained silent, glancing over the remains of other not-quite-shadows as she let her thoughts run away with her. Why were shadows suddenly leaving corpses? Why had the haunted house disappeared after they fought off the Abyss? Why was the Abyss even there in the first place? Why was any of this happening in the first place?
She glanced up at Astaire, still surveying their surroundings. He wasn't a bad person. She was sure of it. But he had a really annoying habit of creating a lot of questions she simply didn't have answers to.
As luck would have it, answers evaded not only Rise, but Astaire himself. Specifically in relation to why Rise hadn't let go of his hand since they'd arrived.
No, no, forget it. Ignore it. The easiest solution was to stay silent about the whole ordeal. If he didn't bring it up and she didn't bring it up, that'd be that and it'd be completely fine.
...But why was it completely fine? Why was she fine with it? Was she even aware she was doing it? Was it an accident or-
Astaire shook his thoughts out of focus. Overthinking the whole situation would just make matters worse. Even after shaking them free, he could feel the thought itch and scratch at the back of his skull. He shook again. Then again. The scratching continued. If anything, it only got worse.
Rise stopped as Astaire's head shaking became more frequent and frenzied. His sword lodged into the ground as he fell to one knee and raised his hands to either side of his head. "Astaire-kun, what's wrong?!" Astaire pointed to her face, specifically, what was on it that he lacked. "Oh, crap! We forgot to get a pair of glasses from Teddie! How are you feeling?!" She asked, slipping an arm around the breadth of his back and under his other arm, bringing him to his feet.
In lieu of answering, Astaire tucked his sword back into his coat.
Oh crap, he must've been bad. "Don't worry! Just a little further and we'll be out! Stay with me a little longer, okay?" Rise said between heaves. If either one of them was better suited to carrying the other, it wasn't the one whose head barely scratched the other's chin. Despite their size differences and Astaire's clumsy, half-focused steps, the Statue Grove soon came into sight.
It was a little different from earlier, Rise noticed. Two new statues had been constructed. One of herself and Astaire walking hand in hand, much like they'd done in the haunted house, another showing… her supporting Astaire under her arm? What? She'd only started that a few minutes ago!
More and more questions. But there was no time to ponder their answers. A small stack of TV sets sat at the end of the grove, lining up with where the Abyss had peeled away from. "Astaire-kun, we're here! Don't give out on me just yet!" She said softly, yet excitedly. He nodded, his brow creased and disastrously sweaty. Not wanting to waste a second more, Rise hurried him to the exit as quickly as she could, leaning back into the screen and dragging Astaire behind her.
Little was said after Rise and Astaire exited the TV. His mind addled and his limbs rife to the bone with exhaustion, he'd slumped onto the floor and barely moved for the first ten minutes.
It took an uncountable amount of increasingly lucid "I'm alright"s before Astaire finally convinced Rise to stop sitting up and go to sleep. It was her who'd mentioned the importance of her sleep, after all. Staying up was illogical. After she wished him a quiet goodnight, Astaire was left alone with his thoughts.
He slipped off his coat and draped it over him like a blanket, resigning himself to gazing up at the ceiling in the dark. He felt his eyelids grow heavy as his thoughts began lulling him to the realm of unwaking, slowly inching away his lucidity as he rested his head on the carpet.
The sound of shoes off brick could be heard as the young maiden ran down the hall, her reddish hair blowing in the wind behind her as she panted the rest of her stamina away. She desperately wished to rest a while, to catch her breath, but her desire overpowered these wishes as she found herself running ever quicker down the corridor. She needed to find someone, anyone. Someone who would know what had happened and what had conspired since.
An idle turn of her head had shown her the neighbouring hallway, whereupon she spied the very woman she sook, a handmaiden of hers, carrying what appeared to be bandages. Fresh ones. Her course diverted, the red-headed maiden took off down the corridor after her. Her belongings couldn't conceal what was being hidden from her, not this time.
The bandage-maid did not attempt escape, knowing what the young girl was after. True, the words she spoke were just as she had predicted. "I beg of thee, maid! I must know, where doth he lay?! Where might I find him?!" The truth could be evaded no longer. Out of earshot of anyone else, she leaned in gently to the girl and whispered in her ear. Her eyes lit up as she took off down the corridor anew. "Bless thee! I shall see thee repaid for thine service, I vow it!" She yelled, her footsteps becoming ever more distant.
She found the door, the one she'd looked for all this time. They had stowed it away well, but no longer would she be deceived. Her heart fit to burst, she burst through the door with reckless abandon, her eyes resting upon exactly who she'd wanted. He lay atop the sheets of his bedding, one arm covered in bindings, faint stains of red seeping out in places. His chest was in a similar state, covering his shoulder and leading down to his waist.
His eyes widened upon seeing her, the surprise as clear on his face as the adoration was on hers. "F-Fair Lady!" He blurted out.
"Brave Knight!" She cried in return, rushing to his bedside, her eyes welling with tears. "My Brave Knight…" she cooed, her eyes softening as she wiped them dry. "So long has it been since last we set eyes upon one another…"
The knight seemed conflicted internally, as seen from his face and heard in his voice. "Fair Lady… Surely thou knowst of thine Father's intent? 'Twas not mere coincidence what placed me in these sheets, and 'twas not without prior motivation."
Both of her hands gripped one of his, being the one part of his arm unbound. "I do, I do! He wishes I should marry upon a suitor of his choosing, but such actions would betray mine own heart's true desire!" She said insistently, her eyes practically sparkling with determination. "The same desire which places me alongside you now, my dear knight…" she closed her eyes, placing her lips upon the top of her knight's palm.
The knight's eyes widened. "M-My Lady, please! To honour one as low as I in such a way is-!"
"-Only fitting. Thoust kissed my own hand many times, to not return such an act would be unjust." She finished for him, smiling softly, the bronze light from the bedside lantern painting her in a warm glow which only enhanced her beauty. Taking her hands away from his arm, the Fair Lady instead supported herself as she raised herself onto the bed, bringing her head closer to the knight's. "Perhaps… a kiss somewhere else might befit a similar act of repayment…?" The words sent a shiver of excitement down the knight's spine, his Lady's tone sultry and soft.
Both pairs of lips drew closer to one another. There was no stopping such an act now, not in his current state. As he felt his Lady's breath escape her gentle lips, he-
"My, my, my." A distorted voice interrupted. "Someone's having fun, I see." The voice shot out like a bolt from a crossbow, which collided with the world and sent it shattering into irreparable shards as though it were a stained glass window. Astaire's eyes bolted around rapidly as he pulled himself up from the floor, unsure of how he'd even wound up laid out in the first place. "Hello again."
"AAAGH!" A horrified yell was all Astaire could manage as his Shadow appeared from thin air behind him, sending him staggering back to regain both his balance and his composure. "You! You hateful fiend, I should've known this was all you!" He snarled angrily.
His Shadow retorted with a distorted scoff. "You think I did all that?" He mockingly brought his fingers to his chest, looking hurt before his face immediately hardened again. "That sure would be convenient. Shame it's not true at all." He chuckled, revelling in the beet-red shade overtaking Astaire's face. Whether it was from embarrassment, or anger, or both, was questionable.
Astaire slapped both hands on his cheeks and shook his head. Forget the dream, or whatever that whole debacle was, there were more pressing concerns. "That aside, what is it you're after now?! If you're going to keep pestering me every night, I demand to know!"
"You already know what I want, you thick-headed mongrel. Acceptance." An overly played-up sigh ruffled the edges of the black hood adorning the Shadow's head as he shrugged equally as dramatically. "I mean really. What a stubborn lout you're proving to be. I wasn't expecting a turnaround immediately or anything, but gracious. You have quite the talent for being exceptionally annoying."
"Annoying? Me?" Astaire scoffed back. "Don't dare sit around forcefully invading my dreams every night, then come and have the gall to call me the more annoying out of this duo!" He snapped.
As calm and aloof as ever, his Shadow shrugged. "I've told you before, haven't I? I'm simply a part of you. In truth, we're not even really a duo at all!" He stopped to chortle, examining the way Astaire clenched his fists at his side. "You know how to get rid of me, don't you? It's not hard. Just do it." It couldn't be seen, but underneath his hood, Astaire's Shadow wore a toothy grin. "Admit to yourself that you take pleasure from fighting, killing, stealing and feigning innocence behind your mighty Lord of Sunlight. That's all."
A clear look of disgust crossed Astaire's face as he turned his back to the Shadow. "Disgusting. No upstanding Warrior of Sunlight would ever feel that way. Not about fighting, or stealing, or anything else!" Feeling at a loss, Astaire crossed his arms and tightly bunched the fabric of his coat up in his hands. Anything to dispel the frustration. "Besides, you said it yourself. There's been more than one of me in the past, I should hardly think I'm to blame."
"I said no such thing." The Shadow snapped. "Although you are right all the same. Well done. Since you've solved yesterday's riddle, I suppose I'll need to make a new one."
"You could just as easily not do that." Astaire said flatly.
His Shadow gave him the cold shoulder as he brought an armoured finger to his chin and stroked it, gazing up in thought. "...Ah-hah! I've got it!" Astaire felt himself be wrenched around by the shoulders, whereupon his Shadow grasped him face-first and looked him dead in the eye. "You've been through Lordran many a time, most certainly you have. But that's not your biggest problem. What you should be asking yourself… is what happened before then. Before the Asylum."
As much as Astaire wished to take the high ground, tightening up and readying himself for an argumentative tirade, the question gave him pause.
What had happened before the Asylum? Before the loops in time took hold? How had he gotten there? Who got him there? Why did he keep returning to that one, single spot?
He didn't know. He simply did not know. But that was impossible, it had to be! He had to have been born somewhere, had to have a mother and father somewhere! His life didn't begin in the Asylum, it couldn't have!
But that was as far back as his memories went. For all intents and purposes, that was where his life began.
The thought rattled Astaire to his core. Terrified him more than he knew to put into words.
But his Shadow couldn't know that. Indignantly, Astaire shoved his Shadow off himself and turned his nose up. "Hmph. Make as many silly little riddles as you want. I refuse to accept that you so much as resemble any part of me. You're wasting your time."
Another full-bellied, unhinged chuckle. "I've only got as much time as you do, so who'd really be missing out, eh?" Astaire's Shadow laughed, He was asking for a right hook. He might even have gotten one, had Astaire thought it'd do anything. Instead, the best course of action would likely be to-
Pain gripped Astaire's head as he was clutched by the temples and made to face his Shadow again. His face looked dark and malevolent, looking Astaire himself dead in the eye.
"If you aren't any further along come tomorrow, I'll show you what happens when I do decide to mess with your dreams."
And with that, the Shadow vanished.
A set of vibrations running up one side of Astaire's face served as his alarm clock, alongside the sun's glorious, eye-singing light streaming through the window. He flinched as one of Rise's feet landed in front of his face and whipped away as she danced around the room, picking up small bottles of multicoloured substances and the implements with which she slathered them onto her face. At Astaire's shifting his arms back into his sleeves from under his coat, he caught her attention. "Oh, morning! How did you sleep?"
Astaire opened his mouth to begin. He had to tell her. She and her friends were more experts on this Shadow nonsense than he was, it made all too much sense.
And yet…
"Perhaps… a kiss somewhere else might-"
Had Astaire shaken his head any more violently, he'd have torn the hairs from his head. No, no, GODS no! He couldn't tell her about that, even if his Shadow had made it up.
Which it absolutely had. No doubt about it. It certainly hadn't been him, of course not. "A-Acceptably, I suppose." Astaire picked his words carefully between licking his lips. "My Shadow spoke to me again. Didn't say much different from last night, though. I wouldn't worry about it." He lied. Better he be worried about the whole debacle than worry Rise with it. "Speaking of worrying, what exactly are you doing? You seem a tad anxious, if you don't mind me saying."
Rise had cast a serious look at Astaire at mention of his Shadow, though it failed to persist after that. "I might be, just a little bit. Mostly work stuff, that's all!" She went back to applying her sixteen different types of makeup a second. "Gotta look good for when we first head out! Not to toot my own horn, but I think the press is looking forward to seeing me."
"After yesterday, nothing would surprise me." Astaire commented as he got to his feet and stretched. Thoughts of the previous day's headlines briefly flashed about in his head. Knowing his luck, they'd be looking forward to Rise and him, for reasons he chose not to dwell on. Luckily, his stomach growling provided just the diversion he needed. "Ah, food. I almost forgot. Have you eaten already?" He asked, hand on his stomach as it rumbled disagreeably.
Rise put down her several hundred beauty instruments - which, as far as Astaire could tell, hadn't changed much - and headed over to the table. "Not yet I haven't." She said as she took a seat. "C'mon, I made one for both of us."
Atop the table lay two plates, each bearing a simple omelette with a bead of red sauce in the middle. The smell was divine. So divine that Astaire hesitated to sit down for a moment. "You made these? Really?" Rise nodded proudly. "...Are you sure it's alright for me to-"
"I said 'Cmon' didn't I? Stop being so rigid and sit down already!" Rise interrupted. At her command, Astaire did indeed take a seat. "Now go on, try a bite!" She said excitedly.
Without much reason to refuse, Astaire plopped a corner of the omelette into his mouth. There was a beat of silence before the rest of it disappeared in the blink of an eye with a hungry, bestial snarl. "Mmm! Positively delectable!" Astaire beamed from cheek to cheek.
"Really?!" Rise leaned over the table in disbelief. Considering how well her last attempt at making an omelette had gone, she'd expected the worst. "I-I mean, of course! It's homemade, after all! All the best stuff is homemade!"
"I should think so, if this is anything to go by!" Unlike Nanako, who'd grinned through the diabolical spiciness for her sake, Astaire just grinned. If he'd left anything on the plate, he looked like he'd be licking it. "You are a wonderful cook indeed! I'd be honoured to eat this again!" His grin quickly scarpered as the omelette-induced euphoria began to wear off. "Th-That is, if you'd be so- if it wouldn't trouble you to-"
"Of course not!" Between her newly-reddened cheeks, Rise's eyes gleamed brightly. She'd finally done it! Someone had liked her cooking! She raised a fork and prepared to dig in, only to be halted by a high-pitched beeping coming from her phone. "Ohmigosh, is that the time?! We need to go!" She said, quickly running into the kitchen and packing her omelette in a sealed container, which quickly disappeared inside her bag. "C'mon Astaire-kun, we have a ride to catch!" She announced, swinging the door to the room open.
Rise braced for the cameras, the questions, the buzz of the crowd, and instead met…
...Nothing. Puzzled, she gazed at both ends of the hallway. Not a single reporter to be seen. Judging by the part-relieved, part-pleased look on Astaire's face as he slung his sword over his shoulder, it wasn't hard to imagine why. "Huh. Guess you're pretty good at this bodyguard stuff." She commented as she took off down the hall and called the elevator.
"I should hope so. Keeping one's charge safe is paramount to we Warriors of Sunlight. We rely as much on them as they rely on us for safety." He said, stepping inside - sword still in hand - and feeling his stomach lurch as the elevator shifted.
"Do you rely on me?" Rise asked, looking up with her head tilted.
"Of course I do." He nodded.
Rise raised an eyebrow. "How, though? I'm not as good a fighter as you or everyone else. I couldn't do what you all did in the… sort-of Abyss yesterday."
"Perhaps. But were it not for you, I very much doubt your friends would see me as they do now." He folded his arms and glanced away to the elevator's button panel. "I… appreciate your faith in me. Very much so."
His sheepish look coaxed a chuckle from Rise. "C'mon, don't act like it's that surprising. You kept me safe in the TV World and you kept all those reporters from getting too antsy. It… mightn't have been the best way to handle it, but you handled it anyway. You seem pretty trustworthy to me."
Astaire's sheepish look faltered for a moment before it quickly resumed. "You didn't sound as convinced last night. About the souls and the pilfering and such…"
The doors slid open, leading the two to step out and into yet another silent corridor. "Well… yeah, I guess I can't deny that." Rise bit her lip and stared down at her feet. "But I've been thinking about it. Stuff like is pretty bad in this world, but it didn't happen in this world, right? You must've had a good reason back in your world, right?" She asked insistently.
Lying would only worsen the situation. Astaire rubbed his chin and, for the second time that morning, elected to choose his next few words carefully. "...Not a reason that was immediately apparent, anyway." Rise's quickly narrowing eyes kicked him into high gear. "Th-That is, one needs to be prepared for every eventuality! A sword and shield will only keep you alive for so long! Between sorcerers and giants and archers and all manner of other things, you never know what tools you may need! Why, if I hadn't taken all the cursed weapons I had, what might've become of us in the Abyss? What if-?"
Rise waved a hand, stopping Astaire in his tracks. "Alright, alright, I get it." She said exasperatedly. "It mightn't have been okay to do in the first place, but… it did help us all out back there." She quickly stopped and hit Astaire with a gaze that could shatter stone. "But don't think that means you can do it again! It just means we were lucky! No more stealing stuff and no more… weird soul-weapon-making stuff, got it?!"
Astaire's hand rose quickly to his chest. "I swear it. No more pilfering and no more taking souls."
Rise's small smile seemed to indicate that his pledge was sufficient, and that was that.
The silence on the ground floor quickly began to fill as Rise and Astaire drew closer to the front door. The hushed yet audible sound of many people talking amongst themselves flooded in from outside. A crowd, then. That was more like it. Rise pumped herself up internally and put on a winning smile as they both approached the hotel's entrance.
Or, as one of them approached the entrance. "Hm? What the…?" One of Astaire's feet failed to rise as he found the opposite shoelace undone. Trapped under his foot. "Oh my, that could've been bad." He said to himself, kneeling down to tie it anew before he inevitably tripped and accidentally split someone in half with his Zweihander.
A short distance in front of him, the crowd roared as Rise stepped out of the building. Cameras flashed. Voices both male and female, young and old shouted her name at the top of their lungs. "Hi hi, everyone!" Rise grinned, waving ecstatically to the crowd, occasionally blowing kisses here and there. Getting back to work felt good.
"Sorry, sorry! My shoe was untied, I had to-" Astaire began, jogging out of the door with his sword over his shoulder. As soon as he did, he received the exact opposite reaction to Rise. In a heartbeat, the cameras stopped. Nobody cheered, nobody shouted. The entire area fell dead silent, as though time had halted all at once. It was enough to throw even Astaire for a loop.
Noticing everyone's reaction, Rise shook her hands frantically. "I-it's alright! You can take pictures and stuff if you want! Really!" She emphasized her point by striking a cute pose, which immediately sent off the cameras again. The silence lifted slowly, but there were noticeably fewer voices than there had been.
A long black car on the road honked its horn as the driver tapped his watch, shooting Rise a serious look. "Aww! Looks like I have to go, everyone! Don't worry, we'll see you all later!" She hastily grabbed Astaire's sleeve and dragged him towards the car. "Won't we, Astaire-kun?"
"Uh- Oof!" Before he could pause for any longer, Rise had all but pushed him headlong into the car and quickly hopped in the other side. The doors closed to the sound of the crowd cheering, much to Rise's relief. At least recent events hadn't soured their images that much.
The car, Astaire noted, seemed much like a black version of the Velvet Room on the inside. The fog which passed by the windows was replaced by scenery of all kinds. Throngs of people walking down streets, tall buildings and the occasional glimpse of the sea lay beyond the windows. Once in awhile his gaze would divert, focusing instead on Rise sitting next to him, madly typing out messages on her phone.
Only once Astaire thought to turn his head again did Rise speak. "Hey, about when we get here…" She started, flipping her phone's screen down. "You've gotta do exactly what I tell you to, okay? We can't afford to gather attention like we've done these past few nights, not here." She said, voice dripping with concern.
"Absolutely, you have my word." Rise's brow lowered as Astaire realised his sword was still resting along the length of the car. He smiled nervously as he hastily put it away. "Honestly! I shall follow your orders to the letter." He paused for a second, scratching his chin. "...That being said, should somebody make an attempt on your life…"
"NO!" Rise yelled, all but sending Astaire's head through the roof in surprise. "Nothing's going to happen, believe me! I've worked here for so long that I know practically everyone in the building! Nobody's going to 'make an attempt on my life'!" She said, gradually calming as she took in a deep breath. "...If someone was going to try something to me before, they won't do it now. Not with you here. So please, just take it easy for a day."
Admittedly, if anyone was going to know Rise's workplace well, it's be Rise herself. If she was sure, she was sure. Astaire tightly locked up the Bottomless Box, in faith that he wouldn't be needing it in a hurry. "Very well, Ms. Kujikawa. I shan't get in your way, I swear it."
"Good." Rise said softly, gazing out the window as Astaire did the same on his side.
The air was a stew of awkwardness and finality. An air that wouldn't lift until the car came to its destination.
A dramatic shift in scenery punctuated the end of the ride. Where once there had been crowds of people hustling and bustling to and fro in the streets, there now lay a singular, sizable building with chromed letters above the entrance. Try as he might, Astaire could make neither head nor tail of what they said. "That's the main building for my company, Takura Productions." Rise handily stepped in. "Usually we'd go in there for practice and other stuff, but today's a little different."
And how different it was. Takura Productions neighboured a guarded, high-walled lot of warehouse-esque buildings, each bearing a large number on one side. The scale was enough to make one feel incredibly small by comparison, not least because of the number of people running between the buildings, dwarfed by the shadows they cast.
"Inoue-san wants us to meet him over at Studio 4." Rise explained as she stepped out, shut the car door behind her and stretched her legs. "Don't worry about getting lost, I know this place like the back of my hand. Just follow me, 'kay?" She turned with a wink as Astaire quickly jogged to her side.
It didn't escape Astaire's notice that he was attracting no shortage of glares and glances, even without his sword. People glanced up from whatever occupied them, be it hauling equipment or checking thin electronic devices in their hands, and stared at him with a range of expressions, from suspicious to anxious. Then came Astaire's turn to stare as his eye caught someone pushing around a large rack of clothes on wheels. The clothes themselves were so bright that they threatened to blind him, and with more details sewn into them than Astaire thought could fit on normal clothes.
So occupied was he with his gawking that Astaire barely registered where he was walking until he thumped clumsily into the wall of Studio 4. His senses retrieved, he smiled sheepishly at the puzzled look Rise gave him as they entered a door marked with red letters - again, entirely and annoyingly illegible - and arrived at Studio 4's interior.
Any light in the massive room was focused on a large stage towards the back, set in front of a few rows of seats. Everything else, electronics and their operators alike, occupied the rest of the perimeter surrounding them both. Not that making them out was any flavour of easy. "Hey, there's Inoue-san over there! Let's go!" Rise said from somewhere within the darkness, dragging Astaire behind her by his sleeve.
One thing was made abundantly clear on the walk over. Whoever had decided the outer perimeter of the building needed to be kept dark was getting an earful later. To even call it a 'walk' was a stretch. 'Hopscotch' would've been a more accurate descriptor. "Oh Gods, sorry!" Astaire said, nearly tripping over a cobweb of cables at his feet. "Ah! I do apologise, really!" He continued as he bumped shoulders with something large and expensive looking, flitting between annoyed technicians who cursed under their breath at him.
Expert swordsmanship did not a tech manager make, it seemed.
One way or another, the other side of the studio was reached. "Ah, Rise-chan, there you are!" Inoue had been sitting at a small table holding his recently-emptied cup of coffee. "Good timing, we're just finishing preparations now. Come on backstage with me, will you?" He said, getting up and going before he could be given a proper reply.
Hurrah, more walking.
Many apologies later the trio arrived backstage, gloriously devoid of both cables and angry technicians, replaced instead with crates of every size and idle props littered around. There appeared to be two levels to the backstage area, the lower level leading out onto the stage proper. A set of steps tucked well out of sight of the audience led up to a higher level, a perfect square with a door at the back. As for what it was for, Astaire could only imagine.
"First things first, dress rehearsal. Gotta make sure you're prepared for the big show." Inoue said, examining his phone intently. "That'll be due in… twenty minutes. I'll meet you stage left." He concluded, nodding to Rise before running across to the other side of the stage.
In the meantime, Rise headed towards the single door on the higher level and gripped the handle, stopping to turn and face Astaire as he followed closely behind her. "Hey, you might wanna stay out here for a while, just saying."
Astaire tilted his head questioningly. "Why might that be? I assure you, whatever's beyond that door isn't beyond my capabilities. I can handle it."
A quick, barely noticeable smile flashed on Rise's lips as she turned away. "Well okay, if you want to see me change out of my clothes that badly…" she said, barely containing a giggle.
"I'll stay and keep watch." Astaire quickly turned on a heel and stiffly strode back downstairs, his face a healthy shade of beetroot red.
It wasn't entirely clear to Astaire how long a minute was, but twenty of them was murder. He observed every possible hiding spot, entrance, exit, bottleneck, blind spot and possible ambush point, but found not a sinner to be seen. He felt himself become rife with boredom, crossing and uncrossing his arms listlessly and pondering what Rise might be up to.
Except undressing. Heavens, no.
...He needed something to do. This was ludicrous. Listlessness reaching a fever pitch, Astaire laid the Bottomless Box atop one of the crates he had been leaning on and flicked it open. He couldn't use his Zweihander, if he swung it even once he'd likely cave the floor in. No chance for Pyromancy or Miracles either, not in so enclosed a space.
Plunging a hand in, Astaire felt about for something, anything to occupy his attention. It had to be small. Easily handled. Perhaps something he hadn't used before. Given how many unfamiliar feelings the tips of his fingers brushed past, he doubted that would be hard, at least. At last, something seemed to click. A pair of Caesti, leather straps clean and steel balls glimmering under the light.
The complete antithesis of a Zweihander. Little reach and no personal experience wielding them. Perfect for practice, in other words. Astaire slipped the leather straps over his hands and set to work. "No time like the present, I suppose." He mumbled to himself.
After a few minutes, the basics were down. Jab, don't swing. Strike at such an angle that the steel bearings are best made us of, simple stuff. A particularly unfortunate discarded mannequin served as Astaire's test dummy as he quite literally knocked the stuffing out of it. After exerting himself non-stop, Astaire hopped atop the crate the Bottomless Box lay upon, wiping his brow and trying to catch his breath.
Perhaps he'd been remiss to dismiss Fist weapons so quickly. Quick strikes and little recovery time would be the perfect sidearm for when the Zweihander proved too slow to be practical. Curious, Astaire lifted the box atop his knees and began another search for more fist weapons.
"Hm?" Something caught Astaire's eye. "Now, that might do. Come here, you-"
Suddenly, a monstrously loud torrent of music blasted out from the stage, nearly knocking Astaire off the crate entirely as he leapt in shock. His attention immediately shifted to meet the sight of Rise, backed up by three unfamiliar girls, beginning the rehearsal Inoue had mentioned.
Her outfit was much more… Astaire settled for daring, than he remembered. Her cleavage was exposed, with pink and black thighhighs running up her legs to meet the loud pink skirt atop them. In the interest of modesty, Astaire felt obligated to turn away and avert his eyes.
However, something else quickly absorbed his attention. Something far more shocking that Rise's outfit.
"Gods above…" The music was abysmal. From the moment it had started to the beginning of Rise's dancing, alongside the other girls' singing- "Urk-! No…" Astaire heaved. It was dreadful. Awful. DISASTROUS. It felt like someone was trying to constantly funnel a deluge of sugar and syrup down his throat while shining a rainbow's worth of neon colouring in both eyes. Terrible. TERRIBLE.
"Hey, are you alright?" An unfamiliar voice asked from behind. Astaire turned to face his questioner, perhaps a little too quickly to feign being alright. Before him stood a girl around Rise's height, looking up at him with bright brown eyes, laden with concern underneath the hood of her green hooded top. Had they been much lighter, they may have even passed for Rise's.
Acknowledging that Rise's performance was making him look homicidal, Astaire quickly straightened himself out and cleared his throat. "Y-Yes, yes. Just fine. Absolutely…" ...But goodness gracious, it really was atrocious. So much so that the music poked holes in Astaire's concentration and derailed his train of thought.
"Oh, I see. You're not a fan, are you?" The hooded girl asked, cocking her head.
"What? No, I-I mean, yes! I am a fan! Of Ms. Kujikawa, that is!" ...He turned again post-stammer, feeling strangely drawn to the display in spite of his revulsion. "...I could do without the dancing and the music, however." He admitted.
The girl hummed thoughtfully and plopped up beside Astaire on an adjacent crate. "That's funny, I thought everybody knew about Rise-senpai! She's really popular right now, you can hardly turn your head in the city without seeing her somewhere!" She grinned cheerily, swinging her legs. "I mean, what else did you think she'd be doing?"
"I'm not sure, but I doubt this would've crossed my mind any time soon." Astaire admitted, tapping his foot off the floor in an attempt to bottle his revulsion up somewhere. His eyes briefly flashed between the stage and the hooded girl, until he finally realised how rude he was being. "Oh! Pardon my manners, I'm Knight Astaire, Ms. Kujikawa's bodyguard. " He said, holding out a hand to his new acquaintance.
She giggled as she shook it. "Manners, shmanners! Besides, I'm pretty sure lots of people around here already know who you are, Astaire-kun." She said with a wink. Oh. Right. That accursed newspaper. "But it's still nice to meet you. I'm Kanami Mashita, but you can call me Kanamin if you want to!" She grinned widely, peering around Astaire post-introduction to see the rehearsal taking place.
Not that Astaire could fathom why she'd want to, save for painful fascination. "You called her… Rise-senpai, was it? I take it you're familiar with her, then?"
Kanami rocked in place, limbs flailing dramatically as she nearly fell off her crate."What?! First you don't know about Rise-senpai's work and now you don't know me either?!" She calmed down and placed a finger to her lips, gazing toward the ceiling. "Hmmm. I wonder if Rise-senpai has a rock in her room that she lets you live under…?"
"Beg pardon?"
"Never mind." Kanami waved dismissively. "I guess you really don't know, huh? I'm an idol, just like Rise-senpai is! She's a little older than me, though, so I've gotta work extra hard to catch up to her! I just have to!"
Idols? Was that what everything was in service of? The reason Rise dressed so flashily, the reason the music was so sickening upbeat and cutesy, the reason-
Wait a minute.
'I'm an idol, just like Rise-senpai is.'
"Oh! So you mean you…" Astaire looked back and forth between Kanami and the stage, in time with his finger pointing between them. Kanami nodded, bringing his hands and head to a halt as he bowed one and clasped the others together. "I-I'm so sorry! Truly, I am! Had I known you performed in the same manner I wouldn't have-!"
Kanami laughed and offered another dismissive wave. "It's fine, it's fine! Music's one of those things that's really subjective, if it's not for you, it's not for you!" She said before raising an eyebrow. "But the dancing? I hear complaints all the time, but I've never heard of anyone who didn't like Rise-senpai's dancing. What don't you like about it?"
Arms crossed, one of Astaire's fingers drummed off his upper arm to fill the prolonged silence.. "...It's difficult to put into words, I think. It's like a sort of… urge, or some kind of gut feeling within me. There's something about the whole thing that just isn't my cup of tea. I just wish I could say what it was." He finally said, biting his bottom lip in thought.
His lack of a concrete explanation only seemed to drawn Kanami in closer, looking ever more invested. "So what kind of dancing do you like? Maybe that could help explain it!" She brought a thumb to her mouth and chewed lightly on the nail. "Hmmm. Headbanging is the furthest thing from Idol dancing I can think of, do you like headbanging?"
Astaire looked at her like she'd just grown a second head.
"Okay, so you don't like headbanging, got it. What do you like, then?"
Another prolonged silence, punctuated with the tapping of Astaire's feet and a thoughtful, drawn-out hum. "...I'm afraid I don't know what type of dancing I like either." He answered defeatedly as he scratched the back of his head. The closest thing to dancing Lordran offered was Seath's channelers, and somehow he figured they wouldn't quite count. "I'm sorry, I'm not making all that much sense, am I?"
Meeting her head on again, Astaire felt his heart leap as Kanami's eyes welled with tears, her bottom lip aquiver. "Someone who can't remember what music they like, or what dancing they like?! That's so sad!" She wailed, loud enough to even overpower the riotous rehearsal off to the side. "Music is the lifeblood of… well, life! Life without music isn't any kind of life at all!"
In his head, Astaire's brain flatlined, unable to process a response. That was, until Kanami hopped off the crate and latched onto his coat viciously. "M-Ms. Mashita?"
"Come with me. Right freaking now." Gone were her tears, replaced instead with a look that could've chiseled rock. It didn't take much convincing before Astaire hopped off the crate as well, getting dragged off towards, and up, the stairs. "If you can't remember what kind of music and dancing you like, we're gonna have to find out! We just have to!"
A large set of curtains obscured both the immediate right and left of the wide, square floorspace. Curtains which Kanami disappeared under before coming back with a tall stool and a large stereo, which she placed off to the side before plugging her phone in with a small cable. "Er… Pray tell, what exactly are you doing?" Astaire asked.
"Choosing a song, duh! I'm gonna set us up on shuffle and we're gonna figure out what kind of stuff you're into! Easy peasy!" With a singular tap on the screen, Kanami made a satisfied expression, set her phone on the stool, and proceeded to strut into the center of the elevated area, beside Astaire. "Alright, let's give this a try, shall we?"
Gradually, the rhythm of the song began bobbing Kanami's head up and down in time, soon spreading to the rest of her body as well. "What exactly are you doing?" Asked a bewildered Astaire.
"Getting into the rhythm, of course! Just follow my lead, I'll show you how to cut some shapes!" She boasted, breaking into full swing and showing off her dancing. A warrior first and a dancer never, it was all Astaire could do you clumsily try and imitate her, inevitably failing miserably and tripped over his own feet more than once. "Alright, alright, stop. Maybe that was a little much for a beginner, we'll try something else."
Astaire panted deeply, hands on his hips. Dancing really took one's energy away, it seemed. "Like what?"
No sooner had he asked, Astaire found his hands torn away from his hips, placed instead in one of Kanami's hands and one her waist. "Ever tried waltzing?" She asked with a smile.
Normally, any red-blooded male would likely have bled so forcefully from the nose that they'd have rocketed into the sun, never to return to Earth again.
Well, maybe not exactly like that, but Kanami pictured it going pretty similarly.
"I can't say I have." Astaire replied flatly, nose notably un-bloodied and trajectory distinctly non-sunward.
Well, that was underwhelming. Kanami shrugged it off and freed a hand to reach out to her phone. "Don't worry, you'll have me helping you directly this time, so everything's gonna be just fine!" She assured him, flicking through her sizable array of music. It'd need to be something slow and easy to handle. Sadly, without easy access to her sixteen other SD cards full of music, classical was out the window. Kanami hummed thoughtfully before finally settling on something.
The guitar and flutes accompanied Kanami's hasty explanation of waltzing to Astaire. Given that it was slower, that the two were connected and that Kanami was rather adept at explanations, even Astaire's leaden feet began to catch on over time.
Yet something nagged at him. "You're a rather good teacher, Ms. Mashita. I only wish I knew why you were going through all the trouble"
"I told you, didn't I? Music is one of the greatest things about being alive. It can convey thoughts, feelings and stories without even using a single word. It can connect people, no matter how distant they may have been before. It can bring people together, or provide comfort when they're torn apart. It doesn't matter what the situation is, music can portray it down to the finest detail, as clear as crystal. Not experiencing music, or the dancing it creates, is absolutely criminal!"
Astaire blinked and shook his head in the face of Kanami's shining, passionate eyes. "That… was a tad more dramatic than I was anticipating."
"Call me a girl who just really likes her music." She shrugged and smiled.
"Enough to where you'll dance with someone you've only just met?"
"To a song that's not even meant for waltzing? Sure will!" Kanami laughed wholeheartedly. Admittedly, her energy was proving to be infectious, as Astaire soon found his lips curling up to match. "The song's 'Stairway to Heaven' by the way. It's not a waltz, but it'll do in a pinch. Isn't it nice?"
"Yes, it is. Very." Astaire nodded. He brought his hand away from Kanami's waist and instead placed it on her shoulder. "Thank you for all this, but I really should get back to my post. Without me there's nobody to protect Ms. Kujikawa directly."
Sighing contently, Kanami released her grip on his hand and stopped the music. "Yeah yeah, I suppose. But hey! If you ever get bored of punching mannequins, and I get bored of reading scripts and practicing choreography, feel free to hit me up again later!" She beamed as she began walking off.
Nodding in affirmation as she disappeared through the doorway at the back, Astaire headed back for his prior position. The stage had quieted down immensely, meaning Astaire could finally hear himself think once again. However, that wasn't all he could hear.
"Oh man, these are great! How much do you think these'll sell for?"
A voice.
"Couple thousand a pop, I'd guess. Imagine the friggin' headlines you could put out with the right spin on this!"
No, two voices. From below him, at the base of the stairs.
"Dunno about you, but I smell a bestseller! People hate this guy enough as is, think what a possible idol-slash-bodyguard love triangle would do to 'em!"
A what-slash-what?!
"Smells like a goddamn payday to me! Lemme get a few of Risette on stage before we push out, just for that little extra kick!"
The excited chatter of both voices was immediately halted as Astaire cleared the guardrails of the upper platform and landed before them with a loud thud. He whipped around to meet the source of the voices, two shady-looking men holding expensive-looking cameras. So shocked by his entrance were they that the one on the left dropped what he'd been holding. A handful of polaroids, showing Astaire and Kanami dancing.
They'd taken pictures.
They'd been talking about selling them to someone.
They'd been talking about a love triangle.
Out came the caesti from Astaire's coat. "You're not supposed to be here, are you?" He growled more than asked. Just as the leather straps were tightened, a violent surge of electricity drove into Astaire's chest, courtesy of the rightmost cameraman's stun gun.
To a normal human, such a shock would've brought them to their knees, if not worse. But after being impaled by Dragonslayer Ornstein and having the power of pure lightning run through him, Astaire barely even flinched.
One fist sent the stun gun clattering to the floor. The other drove into his assailant's jaw with a loud crack. He clutched his head in pain as he spat out a bloody tooth, bumping into his partner behind him, who was weighing his options. Either run out on stage and have studio security kick them both out, or risk dodging past Astaire to the exit.
One thing was certain, whatever studio security would do to him, it'd be a cakewalk compared to the guy who'd shrugged off a stun gun like it wasn't even there. Fearing for his life, the second cameraman sprinted onto the stage. The audience of choreographers, directors and technicians all jumped out of their seats at once, barking orders at the security detail .
Rise's eyes widened as the second cameraman approached. Not because of him, but because of the roaring, unfathomably angry visage of Astaire that came sprinting behind him, face like that of a demon. "Get away from her!" He bellowed before tackling the cameraman from behind, rolling him onto his chest and pummeling him in the face without hesitation. His jaw broke and his face bled from the innumerable cuts left by the caesti's vicious strikes. Only when he was knocked out completely did Astaire stop hitting him.
"BASTARD!" The voice of the other cameraman came from behind. He'd grabbed a stool from backstage and had begun charging, aiming for Astaire. He didn't even have time to flinch before Astaire got to his feet and plowed his fist into his face, knocking the stool from the cameraman's grip and breaking his nose all at once. Blood cascaded down his face as he brought his hands up to stem the tide, looking up at Astaire pleadingly. "L-Look, man! We jus-"
The cameraman was interrupted as Astaire gave him a left hook, destroying what little consciousness he'd held onto. He impacted off the stage with a thud, laid out next to his partner in an equally bloody mess.
Astaire panted heavily, caesti reddened with blood, small spatters coating his face, coat and body. He gazed at his hands, eyes wide as he uttered a single word. "Wow."
Catching himself on, he turned to Rise, an 'are you alright' on the tip of his tongue. But one look at her said all he needed to know. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets, her pupils contracted and her hands raised to her mouth in shock. Tears welled up not only on her eyes, but the eyes of her dancing crew as well. The longer Astaire looked at her, the deeper he felt his heart sink.
Someone from the audience yelled something about taking a break for an hour or two, encouraging everyone else to willingly scarper, Rise included. She took off backstage, her face buried in her hands. His concern outweighing his common sense, Astaire took after her.
Rise passed the fallen polaroids entirely before Astaire swiped them up and pocketed them, quickly resuming his chase upstairs. Prior warnings be damned, he followed her through the door at the back and into the corridor of doors beyond. "Ms. Kujikawa, wait!" Astaire called out, barely catching the door Rise ducked into before it could close. "Ms. Kujikawa, I-"
The sentence was cut short as Rise's palm met Astaire's face, the sound of the slap she gave him so loud it could have woken the dead. Foolishly, he dared to look her in the eye, her expression enough to break both his heart and his spirit. He'd never seen someone so angry and sad at the same time before. "YOU COULD HAVE BEATEN THOSE TWO TO DEATH!" Rise screamed, far beyond the point of caring who heard her. She took off the headset she was wearing and flung it at Astaire's chest. "And what did you have to say about it? Wow?! Like you were impressed with yourself?!"
Astaire clenched a fist at his side. "He was running directly at you. I had to do something."
"You didn't know he was going to do anything to me! From where I was standing, it looked like he was only running to get away from you!"
"His partner hit me with some kind of electric weapon, and then he tried attacking me again afterwards! What was I supposed to think?!" Astaire insisted, unable to resist raising his voice.
"That doesn't mean he had one too! If he did, don't you think he'd have used it before you tackled him?!" Rise raised her voice in turn.
"I can't afford to take chances like that! He was in a prime position to endanger your life, I had no choice but to act!" Astare bellowed even louder, the argument quickly escalating into a yelling match.
"That doesn't excuse turning them both into bloody red smears on the floor!"
"Are you saying I shouldn't do my job, then?! That I should just sit by and let you get attacked on the job?!"
"IF THIS IS HOW YOU HANDLE THINGS, YES!" Rise screamed at the top of her lungs.
At that, Astaire met his match. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut as his energy left him. Either do his job the way he'd always done it, or not do it at all. He opened his mouth, but no response formed. He shut it again, thoroughly defeated.
Rise's face was red with anger, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Just… leave me alone. Get out of here."
Without another word, Astaire nodded and exited the room, gently shutting the door behind him.
It was a wonder that their arguing hadn't attracted a crowd outside. Then again, perhaps the noise had let everyone know better.
Aimless, Astaire exited the hallway and sat himself down on the crate he'd occupied beforehand. He detached the Bottomless Box from within his coat and lay it next to him, eyeing its weathered surfaces idly and wondering how he could make the situation right.
He looked down at his blood-covered hands and coat, wondering further if it was possible to set things right at all.