A sudden, sharp sneeze rattled the empty theater.
"Ah-choo!"
Adalbert straightened himself with a flourish, pulling a silken handkerchief from his pocket to dab at his nose. Rice Shower blinked up at him, her small hands tugging nervously on the hem of her dress.
"…Onii-sama, are you alright?" she asked, eyes wide with concern.
He waved her off with a chuckle, folding the handkerchief away. "Oh, worry not, mein Engel. It must simply be that someone, somewhere, is speaking about me." He crouched down enough to pat her gently atop the head.
Rice giggled, her cheeks warming. "Then it makes sense… Onii-sama is very cool, after all. Everyone must be talking about you."
Adalbert's chest shook with a hearty laugh that echoed through the theater. He scooped her into a one-armed hug, spinning her once before placing her back down with a dramatic bow. "Ah, you flatter me too much. But of course, you are right."
From behind them, two unimpressed stares bored into him. Scarlet's tail flicked lazily from side to side, Vodka leaned with her hands stuffed into her pockets.
"…What are we even doing here at eight in the morning?" Scarlet groaned, covering a yawn. "Seriously, this is absurd."
Vodka crossed her arms, shrugging. "Yeah. He's dragging us around for something again."
Adalbert only chuckled, ignoring their twin daggers. He swept forward with long, graceful strides, his boots clapping loudly against the wooden stage. The hollow sound rang through the cavernous hall, drawing eyes.
The few actors rehearsing lines faltered. Dancers practicing steps stilled. The prop-makers glanced up from their work.
Adalbert stopped center stage, basking under the light filtering in from above. He spread his arms wide, flourishing his crimson coat, and then—
He danced.
A smooth, seamless twirl that carried into a leap. A sharp snap of the heel, a cascade of spins that melted into an elegant bow. His every motion radiated polish and grace, yet strength rippled beneath the veneer. The stage became his world, the boards singing beneath his boots as he shifted from sweeping steps to rapid-fire footwork without losing his fluidity.
And all the while, his voice rang out:
"Behold! What is an Uma, you ask? Is it merely power? Merely speed? Merely stamina?"
His arms cut sharply through the air, his body twisting mid-spin before snapping back upright with immaculate precision.
"No! An Uma is not merely those things!"
He leapt forward, landing in a perfect flourish as his coat billowed dramatically. "An Uma is elegance! Precision! Skill!"
Each word punctuated a sharper move — a heel tap, a spin, a bow. The audience of bystanders, small though it was, found themselves swept into his rhythm. Their murmurs hushed. A few even clapped in beat.
And then, with a final whirl, he spun to a stop at the exact place he began, arms outstretched as if presenting himself to the heavens.
Applause rang out, hesitant at first, then building in strength. A few whistles pierced the air.
Adalbert only smiled, dipping his head graciously before striding toward Rice Shower. In one smooth motion he caught her hands, winking at her startled expression.
"Now, meine kleine Blume, it is your turn."
With a practiced flick, he spun her out onto the center of the stage. Rice squeaked, stumbling as she landed, but managed to stay upright. Her cheeks were aflame, her eyes darting toward the crowd now watching her.
Before she could even protest, Adalbert had already swept back and seized Scarlet and Vodka by their wrists. "And you two as well! A performance is never complete without its brilliant stars!"
"Oi—!" Vodka barked.
"Wait a second—!" Scarlet yelped.
But it was useless. Adalbert tugged them onto the stage with disarming strength, releasing them in front of Rice before stepping back with a satisfied nod.
"Stretch first," he ordered with a clap of his hands. "Elegance is nothing without preparation."
And then, as if the matter were already settled, he waltzed away with a carefree hum, slipping off toward the wings.
The three Umas stared after him.
"…This feels unnecessary," Scarlet muttered, bending forward to stretch her legs.
Vodka shrugged, following suit. "…I mean, it kinda makes sense though."
Scarlet groaned louder. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I like it."
Rice Shower bent down too, though her gaze wasn't on her feet. Her eyes trailed across the stage toward where Adalbert now stood, chatting animatedly with an older man near the orchestra pit. The man clapped him on the back with booming laughter, his face warm with recognition. Adalbert laughed just as easily in return, his gestures large, his tone bright.
"…Onii-sama… knows him?" Rice whispered softly.
Scarlet tilted her head, following her gaze. "…Maybe?"
Vodka scratched her cheek. "He does love to perform… maybe he used to be a performer or something."
Rice nodded faintly, her mind drifting. She thought back to the snowy night, to the way Onii-sama had stood side by side with Opera, the strange harmony between them. There was something in the way he moved that felt… practiced. Natural. Like the stage wasn't something new to him at all.
Her thoughts drifted deeper—
"Rice."
She blinked. Adalbert's hand waved directly in front of her eyes, his grin sly and knowing.
Her face flushed crimson. "Ah—!" She jerked back into her stretch, nearly overbalancing.
Scarlet snorted. Vodka chuckled.
Adalbert laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the space and seemed to wrap around them all like velvet. He stepped back, watching as the three bent into their stretches with varying levels of grace.
And yet, for a fleeting moment, his smile wavered.
Just slightly.
His eyes softened, not with pride or playfulness, but something more wistful. A memory flickered there, gone before it could be grasped.
He let the mask return easily, folding his arms and leaning back with a chuckle. "That's it, meine Mädchen. Elegance begins with the smallest steps."
The three continued their stretches, bickering lightly as they did. Rice glanced up once more, catching Onii-sama's expression before he turned fully away.
Her tail twitched. She didn't know why, but her chest tightened just a little.
And so the theater filled with laughter again, the applause of earlier replaced now by the quieter music of three Umas preparing themselves under the gaze of their trainer.
Adalbert stood at the edge, watching them with his usual flourish and his hidden, fleeting melancholy.