The 1st leader called for another toast, clicking all our glasses, soju for the adults and juice for us kids.

The first day of the New School Expo competition was done, and she had invited everyone out for food and celebration.

There would be elimination tomorrow, but tonight, we were all together and merry.

The 1st leader had slurred to me, between drinks, that we were dancers, not soldiers. Soldiers act friendly to their enemies, then behead them off stage. Dancers act hostile to their enemies, then befriend them off stage.

"And of course we're all friends!" she said, her face red with alcohol, "Do you know how haaard it is to find other people who understand and appreciate the art you do? Who can understand YOU?"

We all got to know each other and where everyone was from. Land of Earth. Land of Wind. Land of Rivers. Land of Waterfalls. We laughed. We complained.

My Kurohyou friends were chatting with Team 3 about something called "mettle funk". Team 2 and 6 were arguing over the best way to drink tea—whether by adding spices or adding milk—a conversation that probably would have bothered my uncles a lot, since the obvious answer was neither: it was blasphemous to add anything but water to tea.

Dori and Arashi chatted about boys, and they both had lots of opinions, until—

"Wait, if you're forbidden from talking to boys, why are you talking to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm… a boy."

Dori clapped her cheeks. "YOU ARE?"

Arashi facepalmed.

"How…" he said, "can you not tell?"

"I haven't seen many!"

Arashi closed his mouth.

"That… is fair." He recovered. "It's more art than science, really. Telling us boys and girls apart. I assumed Ayae was a boy at first."

"What!" I shrieked.

"For one hot second," Arashi defended. "Your hair isn't exactly screaming damsel."

"No boobies," Dori said grimly.

WAAH! The betrayal!

"Anyway, yes, I am a boy," Arashi told Dori. "No skin off my back, but if you find issue with that—"

"Not at all!" Dori said with sparkly eyes. "I spoke with my first boy!"

"And did you or did you not just say it's forbidden?"

Dori cast a glance over at the other side of the restaurant, where her sister was glumly looking out the window. She turned to Arashi.

"I love forbidden," Dori said in a gossipy hush.

We had more senseless, happy chitchat. The whole restaurant was filled with chatter. Then the 1st leader learned there was a karaoke bar nearby, and the rest was history.

.

The next morning was a lot less happy.

The host announced the list of teams who made it to round two. The results didn't come as much of a surprise. Teams 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, and 10 had made it.

"Alright, for order, we will now go the reverse," the host said. "Highest team number up first. Performances start at noon."

… well, shit.

My friends immediately knew what to do. Their team split up, half going to tech again, half going out to the stage.

Thankfully, I knew what to do too.

I went straight to Arashi.

"Will you still be my dancer?"

"Only if you insist."

I clapped my hands together. "I insist!"

With Arashi by my side, I went to Team 5 next.

"Would you like to time swap?" I asked.

They said yes to that very quickly. No one wanted to go after Team 7.

"Well that's one extra hour we can certainly use," Arashi said. "So you mind cluing me on what we're dancing this time?"

We had already used the routine Arashi had saved for his finale. So we'd need to come up with something else.

"No idea!" I said.

"What about your routine?"

"I don't have one."

"What."

"I never prepared one," I confessed, ignoring Arashi's outcry.

But I didn't need to, was what I realized. And Teacher Ekkusu knew that too, when he sent me here with no team and no prep.

At the end of the last round, I had caught his gaze from the instructor's balcony. While everyone else was surprised or delighted, standing and clapping, he alone sat calmly in his seat. Watching me like he was watching the hundredth rehearsal.

"Arashi?"

"Yes?"

"In the last round, which team had the best choreography?"

He didn't hesitate. "7."

"After 7?"

"Of the ones I saw? 1, then 2, then 5."

I agreed. I went to Team 2.

We caught them backstage, packing up their stuff. They had been eliminated so now they were rolling up their wires and loading up their backpacks. They were surprised to see me.

I asked who the choreographer on their team was. Everyone turned to the orange-haired boy in the back. I tried to remember his name from the karaoke.

"Hashiddo?"

"What is it?" he asked skeptically.

"Can you choreograph a dance for us?"

His eyes widened.

Arashi immediately realized what I planned on doing.

Choreography from Team 2. Costume and props from Team 12. Sounds from Team 11. Dancers from 6. I was approaching all the teams who had lost and offering a part of the prize money in exchange for their help.

Every team, disbelieving that I'd even ask them, immediately said yes.

Well, every team except Team 9. They wanted a bigger cut of the prize money. If I was okay with that, then they'll say yes too.

"Okay," I said.

"Uh, not okay," Arashi said. "How does it make sense they get a bigger cut than you?"

I blinked. "Because they're six people, and I'm one?"

"And you are worth more than all six of them combined," Arashi said coldly and very loudly in front of said six people.

I sweated. "Arashi, for someone who hates businessmen, you're very businessy."

He bristled. "This isn't business, this is common sense. They're backup. They should be grateful we're giving them a spot at all. You were already too generous with an even split." He made a face at them. "They're being greedy and they know it!"

I pouted.

I turned to the leader of Team 9, a skinny grandpa with both hands behind his back. Behind him were other grandpas and grandmas.

"If it's not too rude, what do you want the money for?" I asked.

The 9th leader turned to the grandma beside him, who nodded. He told us.

Their grandson couldn't walk. He had weeks of fever and nightmares that eventually left him paralyzed.

He wasn't the only child in the village it happened to. Many kids had paralysis. Because of it, some kids lost the ability to see or talk. Others, their limbs would become all bent.

At first they thought it was some sort of dream-eating demon. So they called in the priests and exorcists.

But no matter what techniques they did, it didn't have any effect.

Finally, the exorcists told them it wasn't a demon. At least, not the supernatural kind.

One of the mothers noticed her child started having fevers after playing in the streams. She claimed it was the water.

At first no one believed her. Their village had stayed neutral in the last war. They had harmed no one and stolen nothing. Why would anyone come now to poison their water?

So the mother set out to find proof. She knocked on every door in the village, recording down all the children who had gotten sick, what they were doing before, and where they had gone. She marked all the streams on a map and followed them upriver, until she reached one of the neighboring villages.

There, she realized the children in this village were sick too. She repeated this, going from village to village, walking upstream, until she finally saw it.

A factory.

"We spoke to the owners of it. They were nice, reasonable fellows," the grandpa said with a wrinkled smile. "They didn't realize what they were dumping into the river would ever cause harm to the people downstream. They agreed to stop… for a price."

"Businessmen," Arashi said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Of course, their village couldn't afford the price.

But then, all the elders came together and had an idea. They'd get the old dance troupe back. Or at least, what remained of it. Come out of retirement. Enter competitions. Win prize money. It was the least they could do for their grandkids.

"Our joints aren't the best anymore, that is true," the 9th leader said. "But we were once world champions, and there is value in our experience."

I looked at Arashi, waiting.

"Okay, how was I supposed to know they were doing this to save the children? Could have saved us the trouble and led with that." With a disgusted expression, Arashi waved his approval.

"Looks like we have a deal," I said, extending my hand.

The 9th leader smiled mildly.

He shook my hand.

.

Team 7 had been told they were not allowed to invite audience members on stage.

That rule really messed up their second routine. It forced them to come up with something even better.

No one had expected the dancers to end up hidden in the audience. Or how they'd make the whole auditorium their stage, or the stairs and balconies their props.

From the instructor's balcony, Teacher Wai looked super pleased. She had taught them how to command the senses, and they did. She had taught them how to master a space, and they did.

It was an act that would have been impossible to follow up on.

Even the judges looked at me, skeptical, when I stepped on stage afterwards.

Thankfully, we had Team 9. And Team 9's wisdom had been exactly what we had needed.

"Team 7," the 9th leader had told us, "is amazing. But that's it, they're only amazing."

"Only amazing?" Arashi asked.

The grandma besides the 9th leader nodded patiently. "Awe is a powerful emotion, as are delight and wonder. This is their specialty, and indeed in accomplishing this, they are unparalleled."

My eyes widened. "You're saying we need to target a different emotion."

The grandma nodded again. She glanced at Team 4, who had none of the showiness, but in doing lyrical, something so boldly different, separated themselves from everyone else. While all the other teams brought joy, they alone brought tears.

The grandma looked back at me. "Yes, find something that contrasts. An emotion that is even more powerful."

An emotion that could be more powerful than awe…?

An emotion that could be more powerful than sorrow…?

The 9th leader saw my expression. "You thought of one."

I did.

On stage, I grinned as I watched the judges' expressions slowly change, once they realized I was not on stage alone, and the shadows were not just shadows, the bodies on the floor beginning to stir.

They stared as all the contestants they thought they had eliminated come back. Resurrected in movements innocent and playful, jolting and stiff, bent and twisted, coordinated beautifully by Hashiddo's masterful puppeteering. A single pull, and they were suspended, paralyzed in the air.

The 25 million prize didn't come from nowhere, the 9th leader had told me. It came from all those audience members, when they bought their tickets. People who could afford a ticket like that, they lived a very different life than either him or me. They didn't dance, but watched others dance. They didn't need emotions in life, so they came searching for them inside a theater.

Smiling mildly, he assured me it'd be a very fresh experience for them.

The experience of horror.

.

Talks of the Expo had gone beyond the auditorium. It had hit the streets. Rumors were abuzz throughout the entertainment district. Descriptions of the dances. Descriptions of the dancers.

Much of the talk was around the "Kurohyou kids". But even more of the talk was around my debut.

The girl who set the world on fire. The girl who resurrected the dead.

"... it's a trilogy, I tell you. They're all connected. Part of some bigger story."

"Ohh, yes, an Ekkusu protege would do something like that."

"But what would the finale be?"

"A tsunami!"

"What."

"What?"

"Fire, death… obviously we're headed to an apocalypse! And what better end than whooshh, bam. A tsunami!"

"... Toru, you're an idiot."

On the other side of the restaurant shoji screen, separated from the gossipy strangers, Jei turned to me.

"What is your finale going to be?"

I laughed nervously, clutching my rice bowl.

Emu and En crossed their arms.

"No need to be secretive with us," Emu said.

"We aren't going to steal your idea," En said.

"Let us critique."

"Give first pass."

The twins couldn't hide their curiosity. My last performance had genuinely caught them off guard. After a fan dance, they hadn't expected me to suddenly pivot to a puppet dance. And a creepy puppet dance at that.

It was, in Emu's words, "uniquely terrifying", and in En's words, "woefully memorable".

"Stop it guys. If Ayae doesn't want to tell us, she doesn't have to," Jii said. "Besides, it'll spoil the surprise."

My nervous laugh got more nervous.

Yes, it would spoil the surprise, and I had never, ever once spoiled anything, no matter how badly I wanted to blurt something out.

It's just… this time, I had nothing to spoil. Because I was in the blind like everyone else.

While Hashiddo and everyone gathered to brainstorm the grande finale, I had been shooed out of the room.

"Nothing personal," Arashi had told me. "But we need to defeat Team 7, and you are a conflict of interest."

Everyone knew I was close to the Kurohyou kids on Team 7. They couldn't risk me leaking our secret strategy to our main competition just because Jii smiled charmingly at me.

Which… to be fair, if Jii really wanted the secrets out of me, he would get it. I would have caved so fast too.

So I didn't know bupkus, let alone was the mastermind of anything.

Then there was all the praise. I loved getting praise, but I didn't know how to feel about the current praise. Because the fan dance was Arashi's dance. He worked on that, for years and years, to get it perfect. And the puppet dance, that was Team 9's idea, and Team 2's choreography, and Team 12's costumes, and Team 11's music, and Team 6's dancers.

I danced in it too, sure, but no more than anyone else.

So it felt weird to me only hearing my name getting mentioned.

When we left the restaurant, we were surprised to see a person waiting for us outside.

It was Shiro, Dori's older sister. I almost didn't recognize her outside her white robes.

"Can I talk to you?" Her accent was thicker than Dori's.

She was looking at me, and I pointed to myself to confirm she was indeed asking for me.

"Sure, what is it?"

She glanced at my Kurohyou friends. They got the clue and peaced out. It was late enough they should be headed back to their hotel anyway.

Once they were gone, I thought Shiro would tell me, but she just beckoned me to follow her.

She seemed to be struggling with her accent. I assumed she was leading me to Dori.

And she assumed I was a little civilian girl.

My hand had grabbed her wrist midair.

The knife fell down with a clatter.

The noise surprised me. Confused, I looked back at Shiro and her terrified expression. She couldn't break out of my grip.

I let her go.

She ran away, leaving behind her knife.

I picked it up. It was just a fruit knife.

My mind was still catching up to what had just happened. But all my ninja instincts had been awakened.

Realization hit me like a sack of bricks.

"Shit, Jii!"

I caught up to my friends. It was very easy to spot Emu and En in the streets, who were the exact same height and size. Jei's bandana was colorful as always. They were chatting.

Jei jolted.

"Sweet mother earth— Ayae?! Where'd you—?"

I pushed through them. "Jii?! Where's Jii?"

"What are you talking about, Z's right—"

My friends realized Jii wasn't behind them.

"Shirotriedtoattackme," I said in one breath, showing the knife in my hands. They stiffened.

Without hesitation, Emu and En got out their blinding sprays and electric weapons. They threw their backpacks to Jei and ran, splitting in opposite directions to look for Jii.

"Z?"

"Z!"

I joined them in the search, flipping myself up onto the rooftops.

A movement caught my eye, but it didn't come from below. It came from the rooftop a block down. Someone was walking slowly and carefully on slanted roof tiles, carrying an unconscious kid over their shoulder.

They wore a mask, but I knew who it was, especially after I appeared before them. In shock, they stepped back. They tried casting genjutsu.

"Genjutsu of that level won't work on me," I said blandly.

The 4th instructor saw I was holding Shiro's knife. Unlike her, I held it properly, the way you would for combat, and not for cutting fruit.

His eyes widened with realization. "You're a ninja."

"I'm his girlfriend," I corrected. "Please give him back to me."

He took another step back.

"Please mister. Give. My. Boy. Back."

The 4th instructor was not a combatant anymore than Shiro was. He didn't want to fight me. Slowly, he pulled Jii into his arms.

I lowered the knife and opened my own arms.

But he didn't hand Jii over to me.

He threw him over the roof.

I screamed.