Hakugyoku Hotel Stockholm Branch – Main Lobby
May 21, 2021 – Friday – 8:00 P.M.
Riku's POV
Dinner had barely settled when Grandfather dropped the news—I was to leave Stockholm tonight. No warning, no gradual buildup. Just a calm declaration over dessert that had me blinking at him in disbelief.
He explained that the plane he and Mafuyu arrived on was scheduled for immediate departure. The tight travel window meant we couldn't afford to linger. Then came the kicker—because of the ongoing conflict between Russia and Ukraine, our flight couldn't take the usual route back to Japan. Instead, we'd be taking what he called "the long way home," a detour across the Atlantic with a pit stop in Los Angeles before finally heading to Tokyo. A full day of air travel.
I broke the news to the band. There was the usual mix of surprise and protest, but they understood. We said our goodbyes in the hotel's dining hall, laughter masking the weight of departure. I promised I'd be waiting for them in Japan. They, in turn, loaded me with parting gifts—small tokens, trinkets, and souvenirs from the festival. Even the ESL organizers sent me off with a replica of the championship trophy, noting that Yuragi and the others would each receive one too. A nice addition to my growing shelf of reminders.
Now, I stood in the main lobby, suitcase by my side, watching the city lights shimmer through the glass doors. Youmu had gone to inform the girls of our immediate departure. Grandfather, ever composed, sat across from me, tapping his cane softly on the marble floor as if keeping time with the hotel's quiet hum.
A few minutes later, the girls arrived—tired, flustered, but ready. Their luggage rolled behind them like a small parade of weary travelers.
"Apologies for the short notice," Grandfather said, his tone polite but firm. "Our flight leaves tonight. I trust Youmu has explained the situation."
They nodded in unison, still catching their breath.
"Good," he continued, turning toward the entrance. "The buses are ready. You'll take the second one. Riku, myself, the other Celestial families, and the Scarlet family will ride in the first."
The staff handled our luggage with practiced precision. Within minutes, we were on the road—two buses gliding through Stockholm's dimly lit streets.
Before heading straight to the airport, we made one quick detour. The bus pulled into the familiar fish market, and I stepped out to collect the order I had reserved earlier. The smell of the sea clung to the air as I handed the package to Ran-san.
"From me to Chen," I said.
Ran-san smiled, her tails swaying faintly. "She'll be thrilled. Thank you, Riku."
We reboarded, and thirty minutes later, the glowing signs of the airport.
Stockholm Arlanda Airport
8:30 P.M.
Our convoy passed through the gates and straight onto the runway. When the bus doors opened, we stepped out—and the sight before us froze everyone in place.
The aircraft wasn't a jet. It was a monument.
The girls' reactions were... predictable.
"Wow!! It's so big!!" Kasumi-san exclaimed, eyes wide.
"That's what she said," Tae-san muttered, deadpan.
"OI!!" Arisa-san snapped, face flushing.
Aya-san tilted her head. "Isn't this... way too big?"
Ran sighed. "Good grief."
Tomoe-san leaned closer to her. "Is this normal to them?"
"To nii-san, no," Ran replied. "To his grandfather? Yes."
Kanon-san's voice quivered. "Fueeeeeeeeee..."
Chiyu groaned. "They did it again..."
Masuki-san blinked. "Again?"
"Don't ask," Chiyu sighed.
I turned toward Grandfather, still staring at the metallic giant that loomed before us. "Grandfather... what is this?"
He smiled faintly, as though pleased by our awe. "A joint project between the Celestial Families. The Matara proposed it five years ago. Construction finished last month, and I was granted the privilege of its maiden flight."
I rubbed my temple. "And how much did this cost?"
He paused to think, then said casually, "At least fifty million dollars."
The air went dead silent.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate. Only Yuyuko-san, Satori-san, and Eirin-san looked unfazed, as if a fifty-million-dollar plane were no different from a weekend yacht.
"Fifty... million," I repeated slowly. "And how much did our family contribute to this project?"
"I allocated five million on behalf of the Nagae family," Grandfather said, adjusting his gloves.
That number, surprisingly, didn't sting. Five million was manageable—for us, anyway.
"What about you, Yuyuko-san?" I asked.
"The same as your family, Riku-kun," she replied with a cheerful smile. "But Satori-chan contributed ten million, and Eirin added eight."
I turned to Eirin-san, who folded her arms with quiet pride.
"And the Hakurei?" I asked, curious. "Considering their... financial situation."
Eirin-san chuckled. "They handled the construction with help from the kappas. Reimu was delighted to finally get paid for something that wasn't an exorcism."
That explained the uncharacteristically good mood she'd been in when I visited last January.
"And the maintenance?" I asked, bracing for another outrageous number.
Yuyuko-san tapped her chin. "After consulting with Reimu, we estimated about one and a half million dollars per year."
I exhaled. "Honestly... that's cheaper than I expected."
Grandfather noticed the yawn I tried to hide. His eyes softened, if only slightly.
"Let's board," he said.
3rd POV
Riku and the girls followed Kyoya up the steps and into the gleaming entrance of the aircraft. The moment the doors sealed behind them, the soft hum of the engines faded into a kind of silence that felt almost sacred. The girls stood rooted, eyes wide, drinking in the opulent interior.
The plane wasn't just luxurious—it was absurdly extravagant. Polished marble floors reflected the warm amber lighting. A wide hallway stretched forward, flanked by intricate wood paneling and subtle gold trim. Plush seating areas sat along the walls, each one looking more like a five-star lounge than part of an aircraft.
Kyoya turned to one of the staff members beside him. His voice, calm as ever, carried quiet authority.
"Take Riku to one of the rooms. He needs his rest."
"Understood, Kyoya-sama."
A steward bowed and gestured for Riku to follow. The boy nodded, still half-dazed from exhaustion, and allowed himself to be led down the corridor. The rest of the girls watched him go.
Saaya, ever the caretaker, tilted her head. "Kyoya-san, why is Riku-kun leaving so early?"
Kyoya folded his hands behind his back. "He's been through a long day. He needs to recover—and frankly, he's earned the rest."
Remilia, standing nearby with her usual composed posture, added flatly, "And whatever you do, don't wake him once he's asleep."
That warning sent a shiver through Riku's childhood friends. They exchanged nervous glances, recalling something they clearly didn't want to remember.
Moca tried to play it off with a grin. "Oh, come on, Remilia-san~ How bad could it be?~"
Remilia's eyes glowed a sharp, predatory red as she met Moca's gaze. "Want to find out?"
The room went cold. Moca shook her head furiously, retreating behind Ran without another word.
Kyoya, suppressing a small sigh, motioned for everyone to follow. "Anyway. Let me show you around."
The tour began.
As promised, the interior was more a flying palace than a plane. Sixty private bedrooms, each with its own shower. Three living rooms, each capable of seating twenty. Two dining halls, an entertainment and gaming suite, three music rooms, and even three fully equipped recording studios for rehearsals. There was a small library lined with real books, an infirmary with state-of-the-art medical gear, a compact gym, a polished bar, and a fully staffed spa.
Four pilots were at the helm. The support crew—nearly a hundred strong—moved about with quiet efficiency, maintaining the aircraft as smoothly as any royal vessel.
Remilia let out a soft whistle. "No wonder this thing cost fifty million."
Kyoya gave a rare, small smile. "Expensive, yes. But worth every coin. Comfort is a form of efficiency in its own right."
He clapped his hands once, signaling the end of the tour. "The stewards will show you to your rooms. After that, you may explore freely—but do keep things in moderation."
The girls nodded.
Soon enough, they dispersed like bright threads weaving through the ship. Roselia, Raise A Suilen, and Pastel*Palettes gravitated to the studios, eager to test the acoustics. Poppin'Party and Afterglow made their way toward one of the music rooms, chatting animatedly about what songs they could play in midair.
Satori drifted quietly to her room, clearly spent, while Eirin and Udongein headed straight to the infirmary to check the medical stock. Koishi, Flandre, and Hello, Happy World! made a beeline for the entertainment room, dragging Rin, Utsuho, and Meiling into the chaos. Remilia, preferring quiet, moved toward the library with Sakuya at her side.
Youmu vanished into the aircraft's kitchen, sleeves rolled up before she even got there. And finally, Kyoya, Yuyuko, and Ran Yakumo found their way to the bar tucked at the back of the main deck.
The bar was dimly lit, but elegant—a crescent-shaped counter of dark oak, the shelves behind it lined with gleaming bottles of every shape and hue. The low thrum of the engines added a soft bass to their conversation.
They ordered drinks. Nothing too heavy; just enough to relax.
Ran was the first to speak, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. "Kyoya-sama," she began carefully, "do you have any updates about my sister? She's been... quiet lately."
Kyoya leaned back, his expression steady. "She sent a message before the finals began. Said the meeting of the Four Fangs had started. After that—nothing."
Yuyuko frowned faintly, the usual playfulness gone from her face. "Yukari can handle herself, but I can't help worrying. She has a way of diving headfirst into trouble."
The concern in her voice was genuine. The bond between Yuyuko and Yukari ran deeper than friendship—more like a sisterhood forged through centuries of shared history.
Kyoya gave a slow nod. "She told me not to worry. If things go as planned, she might not need to intervene at all."
"I'll hold you to that," Yuyuko murmured. Then her expression softened into curiosity. "By the way, Kyoya-san... were you involved in Japan's bid to host TI this year?"
Kyoya took a thoughtful sip before answering. "I only suggested it to the Prime Minister. I didn't expect him to act on it immediately. After the broadcast ended, he called me. Apparently, Japan was competing against Singapore, Thailand, and the Philippines for hosting rights."
Ran tilted her head. "How was the decision made?"
"A bidding war," Kyoya said simply. "The opening bid was twenty million US dollars. The Philippines started strong—thirty million. Thailand countered with forty-five. The two kept at it until Singapore joined in with an eighty-million bid, which neither could match."
Yuyuko blinked. "Then how did Japan win? Surely Singapore had that in the bag."
Kyoya's voice lowered. "Because the Prime Minister raised the bid to one hundred million."
The reaction was immediate.
"One hundred million?!" Yuyuko and Ran both shouted, their glasses nearly tipping.
"That's almost fifteen percent of the national budget!" Yuyuko gasped.
Ran's ears flicked. "Where did the Prime Minister even get that money?"
Kyoya exhaled quietly, his tone heavy. "It wasn't from the Prime Minister. It came directly from His Majesty."
Silence settled over the bar.
Yuyuko's eyes widened. "The Emperor himself?"
Kyoya nodded. "He personally authorized the funding. As for why... I have my suspicions, but I'll need confirmation before saying anything. Whatever his reason, it will come to light soon enough. For now, all we can do is wait."
Yuyuko leaned her chin on her hand, thinking. "Mysterious as always... But if it was His Majesty's will, then it must serve a purpose."
Kyoya smiled faintly. "Perhaps."
He paused, then shifted the topic. "Yuyuko, about Mafuyu—she'll be transferring to Hanasakigawa once we're back in Japan."
Yuyuko's face brightened slightly. "Then I'll handle her paperwork. But really, I still can't believe Miku-chan had another child. Even knowing what you told me... it feels surreal."
Kyoya's gaze softened. "She wanted to tell you herself. But you know how Honoka is—she'll guard our family's secrets no matter what it takes."
Yuyuko chuckled. "That sounds like her. How did Riku-kun take it?"
"Surprisingly well," Kyoya replied, admiration flickering in his voice. "He accepted Mafuyu wholeheartedly. They've already started to bond. Mafuyu even told me she wants to follow his path in music."
"Ara~" Yuyuko hummed, smiling. "I suppose music really runs in their blood."
Kyoya raised his glass slightly. "Seems so."
Ran watched the amber liquid catch the light before she spoke again. "And how is Riku now?"
Kyoya glanced toward the hall that led to the passenger cabins. "Resting. I checked on him earlier—fast asleep. The kind of sleep that comes only after long days and longer battles."
He gestured to the bartender. "Another round, please."
As the steward poured a fresh glass, the plane hummed gently beneath them. The lights dimmed slightly, simulating a night sky even though they were flying thousands of feet above it.
Outside the windows, the world had turned into a vast ocean of stars. The plane cut silently through it—an unhurried leviathan gliding across the dark.
Inside, laughter occasionally drifted from the entertainment room, faint music from one of the studios, and the clinking of glasses at the bar. The contrast between the noise of life and the quiet of the skies created a strange, peaceful rhythm.
Kyoya sat back, letting the faint sound of a piano echo from one of the distant rooms. "This generation," he murmured, almost to himself, "has inherited more than talent. They've inherited weight."
Yuyuko followed his gaze toward the windows, her smile touched with melancholy. "And yet... they carry it so lightly."
Ran nodded, tails flicking once. "That's what makes them dangerous—in the best way."
Their glasses met in a quiet toast.
"To the next chapter," Kyoya said.
The plane soared higher, the stars stretching endlessly ahead.
Somewhere in the forward cabin, Riku slept soundly, unaware of the soft conversations and shifting politics happening just a few decks away. His breathing matched the rhythm of the engines—steady, calm, a boy at rest after the storm.
But for those awake, the night carried weight. Secrets, worries, and plans waited on the horizon. The journey from Stockholm to Los Angeles had only begun, yet already, the pieces of what lay ahead were quietly moving into place.
And above the Atlantic sky, the world itself seemed to hold its breath.
Meanwhile with Riku
Riku's Mindscape
The deep blue of Riku's mindscape shimmered faintly, the waters outside the glasslike walls rippling in rhythm with his heartbeat. Within the calm of the Dragon Palace, the air was still, save for the faint steam rising from two cups of tea placed neatly on a lacquered table.
Across from him sat Iku, serene as always, a knowing smile brushing her lips.
"First of all," she began, tone as smooth as silk, "I want to congratulate you on your win, Riku."
Riku inclined his head, matching her composure. "Thank you very much for the praise. Although," he said, eyes narrowing slightly, "I'm still wondering why you called me here."
Iku didn't answer right away. Instead, she shifted her gaze to a futon laid out a few meters away—where Tenshi lay asleep, her breathing slow and steady, face peaceful as moonlight on still water.
"I wanted to talk about this," Iku said simply, pointing toward the slumbering girl.
Riku followed her gesture, his calm expression faltering into mild concern.
"With the stunt that you and Tenshi pulled," Iku continued, her voice soft but edged with seriousness, "she used up sixty percent of the energy she had stored over the years."
Riku's eyes widened slightly. "That much? She only manifested for about a minute. I thought it would take less energy than that."
"That would've been true," Iku said, lifting her cup, "if she were used to manifesting. But for her, this was the first time." She took a sip, letting the words settle like distant thunder.
Riku exhaled slowly, leaning back. "How long until she wakes up?"
"I checked her condition earlier," Iku replied. "At this rate, she'll wake before autumn starts."
Riku did the math in his head. "...So, around September."
A quiet nod from Iku confirmed it. The soft clink of porcelain filled the silence that followed.
Then, with a faint smirk, Iku added, "And since she appeared on live TV... I'm sure her brother saw her. How are you planning to explain that to Aichi?"
Riku's expression hardened, though not out of fear. "That will depend on him," he said flatly. "Besides, I still have Kaguya to deal with."
"Ah yes," Iku murmured, setting her cup down. "She and Tenshi are very close... almost identical in personality, one might say."
"Personality-wise, maybe," Riku said, a wry grin crossing his lips. "But let's not forget—Tenshi's an outgoing extrovert. Kaguya's a full-on NEET."
Iku chuckled lightly, hiding it behind her hand. "Not sugarcoating it at all, are you? Ufufufufu~..." Her laughter lingered like distant bells before fading. "Anyway, I noticed you created a new spell recently. How about a little spar? I want to see how much you've grown."
Riku tilted his head. "You want me to fight you? I don't mind. Which format are we using—Spell Cards or Spell Combat?"
"The second," Iku replied with a spark in her eyes. "You can head out and prepare."
Riku stood, brushing invisible dust from his coat. "Got it." He bowed slightly, then turned toward the Palace gates, the sound of his footsteps echoing against marble until he vanished into the glowing corridor.
Left alone, Iku gazed down at Tenshi once more. A faint sigh escaped her lips. "Good grief. You really wanted to perform with Riku, didn't you?"
Her smile softened as she knelt, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Tenshi's face.
"I suppose your bond is as strong as ever... even if you butt heads most of the time." Her eyes softened further. "Still, I'm glad you finished the task I gave you before collapsing. That's something."
She rose, slipped her veil over her shoulders, and fixed her hat before stepping toward the door. The moment it closed behind her, a soft hum filled the room—Tenshi's aura pulsing faintly in response, as if she'd heard everything in her sleep.
Outside the Dragon Palace
The air outside shimmered with energy, the ocean-light above refracting into silver and gold hues. Riku stood in the training courtyard, rolling his shoulders, stretching his arms. His body radiated quiet focus—controlled, but ready to burst into motion at a moment's notice.
Just as he was finishing his stretches, lightning sparked above him. Iku descended gracefully, the hem of her outfit fluttering like ribbons caught in the wind.
"I hope I didn't make you wait," she said, adjusting her hat. "I had to set up a soundproof barrier around Tenshi."
Riku gave a small shrug. "Nah. I just finished my routine."
"Good." Iku smiled faintly, her tone shifting to something sharper. "Then let's get started."
In an instant, arcs of lightning enveloped her form—pure, refined power radiating with divine precision. Riku answered in kind, his own aura flaring white-blue, the weight of the Divine Dividing pulsing behind his eyes.
"Ready?" she asked, lowering into a stance.
Riku's grin widened, a spark flashing across his knuckles. "As always."
And at that single exchange, the world around them blurred into light. The two vanished from sight, colliding at the midpoint of the courtyard with a thunderous crack that split the air like a celestial drumbeat.
The sea trembled beyond the Palace walls, lightning scattering across the waves like wild stars.
Riku and Iku's spar had begun—teacher and student, equals now in might, their blows echoing deep through the mindscape of a boy who carried both heaven's wrath and humanity's heart.
-----------
Several Hours Later
Riku's POV
The outside of the Dragon Palace became a mess, as multiple crates were all over as I lay sprawled out, completely spent. My chest heaved, muscles aching in places I didn't even know could ache. The spar with Iku had gone on for what felt like half a day—hours of trading blows, flashes of lightning, and reflexes so fast they blurred into one endless motion. And despite pouring everything I had into it... I hadn't managed to land a single clean hit.
I turned my head slightly. There she stood—unbothered, not a hair out of place, sipping tea as if we'd just finished a stroll through the clouds.
Iku smiled faintly, her tone equal parts teacher and tease. "After our spar, I finally understand your fighting style. There's elegance in your movements—it reflects the Nagae tradition. But..." she tilted her head, "you're still a bit stiff. Work on that once you wake up."
I groaned and sat halfway up, wincing as my back protested. "I'll take note of that," I muttered. "But what I don't get is... how the hell did you dodge everything? I know my strikes were solid—I should've at least grazed you."
"Your Kenbunshoku Haki," she said simply, folding her arms. "Still lacking refinement. You'll need to fight stronger opponents to sharpen it."
"Stronger, huh?" I said, wiping sweat from my forehead. "You got anyone in mind?"
A mischievous glint lit her eyes. "The Watatsuki sisters. They could be a fine match for you."
I sat bolt upright. "Yori-nee and Toyo-nee? No thank you. I don't have a death wish."
That earned a soft laugh from her, the kind that carried quiet amusement and just a hint of malice.
"Seriously," I went on, rubbing my neck, "Toyo-nee nearly fried me the last time we sparred, and Yori-nee's swordsmanship is absurd, and already surpassed Youmu's. If they teamed up, I'd be lucky to last ten seconds. I'd rather run a gauntlet match than face those two together."
"Ufufufufufu~," Iku chuckled, covering her mouth. "A gauntlet match might be a good idea then..." She trailed off, a playful spark in her gaze before her tone softened. "Well, I suppose it's time for you to wake up."
"Guess so." I nodded and slowly got to my feet. "Thanks for the spar. I really appreciate it."
"No problem," she said warmly. "Take care of yourself, Riku."
Her voice faded as my surroundings dissolved into light.
Back to Reality
When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a ceiling bathed in morning light. My body felt heavy, but the ache from the spar was gone—a strange side effect of training within my mindscape. I sat up, the faint hum of the engines filling my ears.
I peeked through the window beside my bed and saw clouds rolling by below us. Still mid-flight.
As I stretched my arms over my head, the door slid open, revealing Youmu standing in her usual composed posture.
"You've woken up, Riku-kun," she said, relief slipping through her tone. "How was your sleep?"
"It was a nice rest," I answered, rolling my shoulders. "Anything happen while I was out?"
"Nothing much," she said, though a small sigh escaped her. "It's just... Yuyuko-sama nearly emptied the plane's food supply."
I blinked. "...Why am I not surprised?"
A soft laugh escaped her before she continued, "Kyoya-sama was informed we'll be landing in Los Angeles within the hour to restock."
"I see." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Tell the crew handling supplies to double the food order. At this rate, we might not last until Japan if Yuyuko-san keeps raiding the pantry."
Youmu looked mildly panicked. "I... I see. I'll inform Kyoya-sama right away."
"Thanks," I said, smiling faintly.
She turned to leave but paused at the doorway. "Ah, one more thing—Yukina-san, Kasumi-san, and Chiyu-san are waiting for you in the third living room."
"They are?" I asked, raising a brow.
Youmu nodded. "They said it's about the performance setlist."
"Alright," I said, heading toward the closet. "Tell them I'll be there once I've changed."
As the door closed behind her, I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. So much for a quiet morning.
Later — Third Living Room
By the time I arrived, everyone was already gathered: Yukina, Kasumi, Arisa, Lisa, Chu², and Reona—all seated around the table, lyric sheets and laptops spread out like a battlefield of ideas.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," I said, walking in.
Lisa-san waved a hand cheerfully. "Don't sweat it, Riku~! We're just glad you finally woke up."
"Glad to see you too," I said with a small smile, taking a seat. "Alright, what's the agenda?"
Yukina-san, ever composed, slid two sheets across the table toward me. "Here."
I took them, scanning the neatly printed text. "Lyrics sheets, huh?" I mused. "So these are the songs you've decided to perform?"
Yukina-san nodded once. "Hai. We'll go with Black Shout and Brave Jewel."
"Brave Jewel," I repeated, glancing up. "That one's your original, right?"
"Correct," she said with quiet pride.
I returned the sheets with a nod. "Good choice. Both songs showcase Roselia's essence perfectly."
Then I turned toward the opposite side of the table, where Chu² was already waving two more lyric sheets in front of me.
"So, these are your picks?" I asked, taking them.
"Yup!" Chiyu said, grinning. "EXPOSE 'Burn Out!!' and R.I.O.T.—my first two originals. I was planning to use them for my band's debut in September, but..." She smirked. "You gave me an early shot."
"You've been practicing, I take it?"
"For weeks," she replied confidently. "We're nailing the tempo and energy. It'll be tight."
"Good." I met her eyes briefly. "Just make sure you don't push Rokka-san too far. She's talented, but you know how intense your sessions can get."
Chu² blinked, caught off guard, then nodded. "...Right. I'll keep that in mind."
Finally, I turned to Kasumi-san, who was clutching her lyric sheets like a precious secret.
"And Poppin'Party?" I asked, leaning back slightly.
Kasumi-san beamed. "Hai! We're going with Tear Drops and Time Lapse."
I raised a brow. "Interesting combo."
She nodded, her voice softening. "I just... feel like those are the songs we need to play right now."
I looked over the sheets, reading the words carefully. The emotion behind them was raw—earnest, heartfelt.
"I can tell," I said after a moment. "These songs carry where you are as a band right now. I'm sure Dendi and the others will appreciate that."
Kasumi-san blinked. "Dendi? Who's that?"
"Ah, right," I said, realizing they hadn't been briefed. "You girls didn't know. I've only mentioned it to Roselia and RAS."
The room leaned in slightly.
"Well," I continued, "some former TI Champions will be watching the live show."
Kasumi-san and Arisa-san both froze. "E-Eh?!" they said in perfect unison.
"Relax," I said, chuckling. "No pressure. Just play like you always do—and do it from the heart. That's what will move them."
Kasumi-san let out a small laugh, half nervous, half excited. "Thanks for the advice, senpai."
"Anytime," I said, standing. "Just remember—skill can impress people. But sincerity? That's what stays with them."
The room went quiet for a beat, the words hanging there before the hum of quiet determination filled the air.
For now, preparations were on track. And as I looked around at the girls' faces—some anxious, some smiling, all burning with purpose—I couldn't help but feel a spark of anticipation for what was coming next.
"Good..." I said, stretching my arms as I glanced around. "By the way, where are the others?"
Lisa-san, lounging on the couch with that carefree grin of hers, tilted her head. "They're at the entertainment room right now, or maybe the gaming section. Why?"
I shrugged. "It's just... the plane's unusually quiet for once, and that's—"
Before I could finish, the familiar DING DONG of the intercom interrupted me, followed by the calm voice of the pilot.
"May I have your attention, please. This is the pilot speaking. We are about to land in Los Angeles for re-supplying. May I ask all passengers to remain seated as we prepare for descent."
The announcement echoed throughout the cabin, and everyone exchanged surprised looks.
Lisa blinked. "Wait—Los Angeles? We're landing in America?"
"Apparently," I said, leaning back against the seat. "Normally, our flight path goes through Russian airspace, but with the situation there being... well, you know..."
Chiyu adjusted her cap with a knowing smirk. "Ahh, got it. So they're taking the long route to avoid potential complications."
"Exactly." I nodded. "It adds around twelve hours to our total flight time, but it's the safest option we've got. Right now it's about one in the afternoon. Re-supply should take roughly an hour, so if everything goes smoothly, we'll be back in the air by two."
"Meaning we'll touch down in Tokyo around... two in the morning?" Lisa-san guessed.
"Correct," I replied. "And speaking of plans—"
The door opened, and one of the pilots entered the room. He bowed respectfully before speaking.
"Riku-sama, we've received your message from Youmu-sama. However..." He paused briefly, "the process you requested will take longer than expected."
I arched an eyebrow. "How long are we talking?"
"If there are no complications, we should be ready for departure by five in the afternoon," the pilot said. "In the meantime, all passengers will have several hours of free time before we take off again."
"I see," I replied thoughtfully. "Thank you for the update. Keep me informed if anything changes."
The pilot gave another bow, smiling faintly. "Of course, Riku-sama. We'll do our best to make the turnaround efficient. Thank you for the praise."
With that, he exited, and the quiet hum of the engines returned.
I turned my attention back to the girls. "Well, looks like we've got a few hours to kill. Since Kasumi-san, Yukina-san, and Chu² are already here, I'd like to ask the three of you for a small favor."
All three tilted their heads slightly. "A favor?" they echoed.
"Yes," I said, straightening my posture. "I want you three to call the other vocalists and meet me in my room in one hour. There's something I'd like to discuss."
Yukina-san crossed her arms. "And what exactly is this about?"
I gave her a faint smile. "You'll find out when you get there."
That earned me a few curious looks, but none pressed further. As I turned toward the exit, my thoughts were already drifting to the next conversation.
But before I could take two steps, Kasumi-san's voice called out behind me.
"Senpai! I want to ask you something!"
Her tone had that mix of nervous excitement that always preceded something unexpected. I stopped, half-turning toward her. "Yes, Kasumi-san?"
She hesitated for a moment, fidgeting with her hands, and then—without warning—blurted out the question that made the air freeze solid.
"Is it true that you like Rinko-senpai?"
The silence that followed was deafening.
Reona's hands immediately flew to her mouth, eyes wide. Chu² groaned and facepalmed. Lisa-san, meanwhile, looked way too amused, a teasing grin spreading across her face.
Yukina-san remained stoic, though the faintest twitch of her brow betrayed her curiosity.
And poor Arisa-san—she smacked Kasumi-san's head so hard it echoed across the room, bowing furiously toward me in apology.
"I'm so sorry, Riku-san! Kasumi just—she doesn't think before she—!"
Kasumi-san rubbed her head, pouting slightly. "Ow! I was just asking..."
I exhaled slowly, walking a few steps closer to her. Arisa-san took the hint and quietly backed away.
"Why ask me that, Kasumi-san?" I asked, my tone calm but firm.
Kasumi-san met my eyes nervously. "Because of your second song during the finals... The lyrics—it sounded like your feelings were directed toward her."
Her honesty disarmed me. I could see the sincerity in her expression; she wasn't teasing or gossiping—she genuinely wanted to know.
For a moment, I said nothing. Just looked into those bright violet eyes of hers that, in their innocence, reminded me of a time when everything about love and music felt simpler.
Finally, I sighed, closing my eyes. "...Yes," I admitted quietly. "You're right. Those were my feelings for her."
The room fell completely silent again. Even Lisa-san's playful grin softened into something more respectful.
I straightened up and looked around at the others. "However, I'd appreciate it if you could keep this conversation to yourselves for now. I don't want Rinko to start overthinking things because of what she might hear from others."
They all nodded, understanding. Kasumi-san, though flustered, gave me a small, almost apologetic smile.
"Understood, senpai," she said softly.
"Good." I nodded once and turned away. "I'll see you all later."
As I left the living room and headed back to my quarters, the faint murmur of conversation resumed behind me—some whispering, some chuckling, but none crossing the line.
When I reached my room, I closed the door gently, exhaling a long breath before sitting down at the desk. The hum of the engines filled the silence again. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling.
"Why did she ask me that out of nowhere..." I muttered to myself, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "No matter."
Outside the window, the horizon stretched endlessly—a wash of sunlight over the Pacific. Somewhere below lay Los Angeles, a temporary stop in our journey home.
I let my gaze soften. "Now..." I said quietly, a small smile tugging at my lips, "let's wait and see what Rinko's answer will be."
One Hour Later
The quiet hum of the engines filled the room as I sat waiting, my thoughts running over the conversation I was about to have. It wasn't going to be an ordinary talk—this one would carry weight. Exactly an hour later, the sound of the door sliding open broke the stillness. One by one, the vocalists entered, each with a different kind of energy surrounding them.
Kasumi-san walked in first, all smiles and curiosity, followed closely by Yukina-san, her expression calm but inquisitive. Chiyu arrived next, that trademark confident smirk barely hiding her intrigue. Ran appeared soon after, her crimson eyes studying me carefully, while Aya-san and Chisato quietly entered, the former trying to read the air while the latter greeted everyone with a polite smile. Kokoro, ever radiant, strolled in with Misaki-san in tow, who was clearly trying to keep her cheerful friend from causing a scene. Lastly, Rei-san came with Chu², the latter already tapping away on her tablet, no doubt curious about what this meeting was for.
I stood up as they settled in. "Glad you all came," I began, my voice steady, but carrying the seriousness of the moment. "We're here to discuss something important. It's about what I said before the Group Stage began."
Kasumi leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "Is this about the deal you made with us, Senpai? The one where you said you'd help us create a song?"
I nodded. "Yes. But I've decided to change that deal. Instead of helping you make a song, I'm going to give you one."
The entire room fell silent for a moment. The air practically froze as the words sank in. They stared at me—wide-eyed, shocked, maybe even a little confused.
Ran was the first to break the silence. "Wait, are you serious about this, nii-san?" she asked, her tone firm but uncertain. "I know Tenshi-nee already gave her consent, but... are you sure?"
I met her gaze and smiled faintly. "No buts, Little Red. You know me. Once I've made up my mind, I don't change it."
Ran sighed, brushing a strand of her red hair behind her ear. "Fine... but what made you decide this all of a sudden?"
I leaned back against the desk, arms crossed. "Tenshi told me to."
A collective shiver rippled through the room the instant I said her name. Even Chu², who always had something witty to say, went silent. The girls exchanged uneasy glances before Chiyu finally took a step forward, her expression unusually serious.
"When did she tell you this?" she asked.
I exhaled softly and looked down at my hands. "It happened a while back... before OG's match against Thunder Awaken. She and I were catching up, and—well, it went something like this..."
Flashback – Before OG vs. Thunder Awaken
Riku's Dreamscape
A golden hue painted the sky of my mindscape as Tenshi and I sat side by side on the edge of a floating cliff. The gentle breeze brushed against us as the soft glow of the clouds shimmered beneath our feet. It had been so long since we just... talked like this.
Tenshi broke the silence first, a teasing smirk on her lips. "So these are the bands performing at your Live House, huh?"
"Yeah," I said, arms folded as I gazed into the horizon. "Some of them are still rough around the edges, but they've got potential. I want to be the one to polish that potential—to make them shine on the big stage someday."
She gave me a sideways glance. "You're speaking like some retired old man."
I frowned. "Can it. I am retired, remember? I'm just a stand-in right now. Once everything's over, I'm stepping back for good. No more stages, no more lights—just peace."
"Uh-huh," she muttered, unconvinced.
I continued, "Besides, I've got a lot of responsibilities already. If the Japanese PBC gets approved this year, that's another load to carry. I don't have time to—"
My words cut off as something smacked the top of my head. "OW! THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!"
Tenshi glared at me, her wings twitching with irritation. "You're doing it again!"
"Doing what exactly?!"
"Taking everything on yourself!" she snapped, her voice trembling. "You're the same as before—burying yourself in responsibilities like you're some kind of martyr! I thought you learned your lesson with Rinko!"
I froze, her words cutting deeper than any blade. "But—"
"No buts!" she interrupted, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "You keep carrying everyone's burdens, Riku! You don't have to! There are people who can help, who want to help! Let them!"
For a moment, I couldn't look at her. She was right. Again. The guilt that gnawed at me since the finals resurfaced—every sleepless night, every hidden regret.
She stepped closer, her tone softening. "Promise me," she said quietly. "Promise me you won't overwork yourself again."
I clenched my fists, then slowly nodded. "...I promise."
Her expression softened. "Good. I know you always keep your promises. Just... stay true to it, okay?"
"Yeah," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "I'll do my best."
"Better," she said, giving me a small smile. Then her gaze turned distant, her voice lowering. "Riku... there's something I want you to do for me."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I want you to give those girls something."
Her tone carried warmth—a quiet faith I couldn't ignore.
"Tenshi, are you sure about this?" I asked, raising a brow. "You know I haven't exactly placed full trust in them yet. Aside from my childhood friends, you, and a few pros, I've kept my distance."
"I know," she replied. "But I trust them. I trust them because they care about you. They're different from the ones you know in the past. They're sincere. And deep down, you know that too."
I looked away, letting out a long sigh. "...If you say so."
"I do," she said with a faint smile. "So, what songs will you give them?"
I chuckled lightly. "Hmm... I'll think about it."
"Then choose the ones that fit them," she said softly, her wings spreading slightly as the dreamscape lightened around us. "The ones that'll help them grow—not just as performers, but as people."
The scene slowly began to fade, her image dissolving into light. Her last words echoed faintly in my mind.
"Don't just carry them, Riku. Believe in them."
End of Flashback
"That's basically it," I said, leaning back slightly after explaining everything.
Ran crossed her arms, her crimson eyes glinting faintly. "Hmph... as expected from Tenshi-nee. She always knows how to push your buttons."
Chiyu smirked. "You really need people who can loosen that load of yours."
I arched a brow. "You're one to talk."
"Hey!" she protested, earning a few chuckles from the others.
Yukina-san, ever the calm voice of reason, brought the focus back. "Moving on... Tenshi-san said she wanted to give us a song. Which one did she mean exactly?"
"Actually," I began, straightening my posture, "not all of them are from Tenshi. Some are mine as well."
The room went still. The vocalists exchanged glances, their eyes widening in disbelief.
Aya-san blinked. "Wait... your songs too?"
I gave her a small smile. "Got a problem with that? Like I said earlier—I've made my choice." I reached for a folder on the desk beside me and set it down gently. "I've been watching all of you since the start of this journey—your rehearsals, your chemistry, your growth. I've chosen these songs based on what I've seen in your bands, your hearts, and your resolve."
I looked around the room. "Each song fits you—not just as performers, but as people."
I gestured forward. "Kasumi. Step up."
Arisa blinked, her thoughts clearly racing. Did Riku-san just call Kasumi without honorifics?
Kasumi hesitated, glancing nervously at Arisa before stepping forward. I handed her a lyric sheet, and the moment she read the title, her eyes widened.
"Riku-senpai! Are you sure you want to give this to me?!" she exclaimed.
Arisa tilted her head. "What's wrong, Kasumi?"
Kasumi handed her the paper, and as soon as Arisa saw the title, she froze.
"Riku-san... Monster? You're giving Monster to PoPiPa?"
I nodded. "Yes. I feel this song will go far with you. It embodies that raw, emotional spirit—the spark that defines Poppin'Party. Tenshi would've said the same if she were here."
Kasumi held the paper close, as if afraid it might vanish. "I'll... I'll do my best to live up to it, Senpai."
"I know you will," I replied softly. "You always sing from the heart—that's what makes you special."
Turning my gaze, I called out, "Ran."
She approached quietly, though the curiosity in her eyes burned bright. I smiled and handed her a lyric sheet.
"Lost One's Weeping," she read aloud. Her brow furrowed. "What kind of song is this, nii-san?"
I folded my arms, watching her reaction. "It's one of my most unique pieces. Truthfully, I was planning to use it myself during the Group Stage."
"Eh? Then why give it to me?"
"Because I know you can bring out what the song truly needs," I said firmly. "It's a song that demands control and chaos—a balance of high vocals, emotional power, and maturity. You've grown into that. You're the perfect one to sing it."
Ran looked down at the lyrics again, her lips pressing into a faint smile. Then she met my gaze with renewed resolve. "I'll make you proud, nii-san."
I smirked faintly. "I don't doubt it for a second."
Next, I turned my eyes toward a certain pastel-haired girl who had been shifting nervously.
"Aya-chan, you're up."
"Eh?"
"Chisato," I added with a small grin, "before you ask—yes, I'm calling her Aya-chan. I already call the Tengu one Aya, so this fits better. Besides, it suits her personality."
Aya blushed, a soft pink coloring her cheeks as she stepped forward. Ran took a step back to give her space.
I sighed lightly. "Allow me to be blunt, Aya-chan. At first... I had no idea what an idol really was."
The statement made her flinch. I could see the shimmer of uncertainty forming in her eyes.
"Now, now," I said, raising a hand. "Don't cry yet. Hear me out."
Her watery gaze met mine, and I continued. "When I said I didn't understand idols, I meant it. Back then, I only cared about bands—guitars, drums, performances. I ignored the whole idol world. But that changed earlier this year, in January. OG and I were in Akihabara for a visit, and everywhere I looked—billboards, holograms, even cafés—there were idols. It caught my attention. So, I started researching. I wanted to know why people admired them."
Aya blinked, leaning in slightly. "Then...?"
"Then I realized," I said gently, "that idols represent something bands often forget—hope. A dream that shines through smiles, even when you're breaking inside. And when I looked at you, Aya-chan, I saw that same light."
Her eyes widened, the tears that had threatened to fall now replaced with awe.
"That's why," I said, handing her the lyric sheet, "I decided to give you this."
She took it carefully, and when her eyes landed on the title, her jaw nearly dropped.
"Riku-kun! This... this song!"
"I can safely say," I said with a grin, "that Yoru ni Kakeru is the best choice for Pastel*Palettes."
Arisa nearly leapt from her seat. "Wait—that song?! You're giving them that one?"
I nodded. "Yup. Consider it a wildcard in your arsenal. Idols often lean toward bright, happy songs—but this one? It's dark, emotional, haunting. The contrast will captivate the audience. People won't see it coming, and that's what makes it powerful."
Aya clutched the paper against her chest, her eyes glowing. "Then I won't let you down, Riku-kun! I'll make sure we give this song the performance it deserves!"
Chisato smiled faintly. "Aya-chan..."
I chuckled. "You don't need to go that far—but I like that determination."
Then my gaze shifted. "Kokoro."
She skipped forward cheerfully. "Onii-chan!"
I smiled. "Alright, Kokoro. The song I plan to give you—"
"I want something else instead," she interrupted suddenly, clasping her hands behind her back.
I blinked. "...What?"
"I want you to have a collab with HaroHapi!" she said brightly, her golden eyes gleaming.
The entire room went dead silent. Even I had to process that one.
"A collab?" I asked.
"Yup!" she said with a radiant smile. "Not just any collab—one that'll make everyone smile from the bottom of their hearts!"
I paused for a few seconds, then exhaled and chuckled softly. "You know what...? That's actually a great idea."
Misaki sighed, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "Told you he'd agree."
I noticed the others exchanging looks—some surprised, others quietly impressed. They were all thinking the same thing: Why didn't we think of that first?
I folded my arms. "Alright then, Kokoro. I'll do it. But the question is..." I smirked. "Can you girls keep up with me?"
She beamed. "If we put our hearts and minds into it, we can keep up with anyone!"
"Then let's see if that energy of yours lasts till then," I said, amused.
The room relaxed again, laughter lightly filling the air.
"Now," I said, glancing toward Yukina, "your turn."
Yukina stepped forward calmly, her expression unreadable.
"To be honest," I admitted, "you were the hardest to decide for. Roselia is already complete—refined, disciplined, powerful. You've already achieved what many bands strive for. It took me a long time to find a song worthy of you."
I handed her the lyric sheet. "But I think this one fits."
She looked down, scanning the title. Her eyes softened slightly before she nodded.
"I trust you'll do justice to Skyclad Observer," I said.
"You think so?" she asked, her tone quiet yet curious.
"I know so," I replied confidently. "Roselia thrives on songs that test boundaries. This one will do exactly that."
Finally, I turned to the last two standing—Rei and Chiyu.
"I know that technically, you two aren't part of the original deal I made," I began, "but I'd like to do something for your band as well."
Chiyu crossed her arms. "Oh? I'm listening."
"How about this," I offered, "once Roselia's first live wraps up, allow me to help you girls—"
"Deal," she said instantly.
I blinked. "You agreed before I even finished."
"Because I know what you were about to say," she smirked. "And no way in hell am I letting that opportunity slip."
Rei chuckled quietly beside her. "Classic Chu²."
The room filled with laughter again, easing the tension that had built up over the meeting.
Looking at all of them—their smiles, their determination, their passion—I felt a familiar warmth in my chest. Tenshi had been right. These girls weren't just musicians or performers. They were people who carried dreams, pain, and hope in equal measure.
I took a deep breath. "That's all for now. I'll trust each of you to handle your parts with care. These songs... they're pieces of my heart, and now, they're in your hands."
Kasumi clutched her lyric sheet tightly. "We won't let you down, Senpai."
Ran smiled faintly. "You'll see. Every note will speak louder than words."
Aya nodded, still holding hers with trembling hands. "We'll show everyone what we're capable of."
Yukina simply said, "You have my word."
Kokoro twirled in place, her voice bright as ever. "It'll be the most fun performance ever!"
Chiyu grinned. "Better keep your schedule open, Riku. Once we're done, you're joining us onstage."
I smirked. "We'll see about that."
As the girls began chatting among themselves, I glanced toward the window. The sun was starting to dip, its golden rays spilling through the glass. For the first time in a long while, I felt... at peace.
Tenshi's voice echoed faintly in my mind once more—gentle, serene, proud.
"See, Riku? You don't have to carry everything alone. Just trust them."
I smiled faintly to myself, whispering under my breath, "Yeah... I think I finally understand that now."
3rd POV
A soft knock echoed through the quiet office, pulling everyone's attention toward the door.
"Come in," Riku said.
The door creaked open, and a familiar presence stepped in — Mafuyu, her pale lavender hair perfectly in place, her eyes as unreadable as ever.
"Nii-san, I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said with a polite bow.
Riku shook his head. "It's fine. We just wrapped up. Did you need something?"
She hesitated, her tone gentler than usual. "Actually... when I first met Grandfather, he mentioned that you were also a pianist. So, if it's alright with you... could you—"
Before she could finish, Riku stood up, walked over, and placed a hand on her head.
"Of course," he said softly. "Meet me at the second music room. We'll start from there."
Mafuyu blinked, almost startled, but then nodded. "Alright."
She turned and quietly left the room.
Riku exhaled, then faced the girls again. "Well, that's that. You can go back to whatever you were doing — I've got to help Mafuyu."
Kasumi smiled warmly. "We understand, senpai. As a fellow older sibling, you've got to be there when your younger sibling needs you."
Riku let out a small chuckle. "Yeah... I suppose so." His eyes shifted slightly when he noticed Misaki's expression. "Something wrong, Misaki?"
Misaki frowned a little, scratching her cheek. "I don't know how to put it, but... seeing Mafuyu-san just now, her face looked... fake?"
The others tilted their heads, confused.
"'Fake'?" Arisa asked. "What do you mean by that?"
Misaki folded her arms. "Her expression — it looked like she was smiling because she had to, not because she wanted to."
Riku nodded slowly. "So you noticed too." His tone grew heavier. "Grandfather told me... Mafuyu was raised under extremely strict control. Her mother micromanaged her entire life — what to do, what to feel, who to be. She never had a say in anything. Every day, she's had to keep that mask on just to survive it."
The room fell quiet. None of the girls seemed to know how to respond.
Chiyu finally broke the silence. "If her mom's that bad, then what about her dad? Why hasn't he done anything?"
Riku sighed, shaking his head. "No clue. From what I've read in Grandfather's reports, her mother has some kind of leverage on him. Maybe blackmail, maybe influence — whatever it is, it's enough to keep him silent."
Chisato's eyes softened. "So she's been living under someone else's shadow all this time..."
Riku's gaze drifted toward the door Mafuyu had exited. "She hides behind that fake smile because she doesn't know how to show her real one anymore. The only time she ever lowers her guard — even just a little — is when she's making music."
Yukina crossed her arms, intrigued. "So she's musically inclined as well?"
"Yeah," Riku replied. "She's a composer. She even formed her own group."
Arisa leaned forward. "Really? What's the name of her group?"
Riku looked back at her. "25-ji, Nightcord de."
That name caught Yukina off guard. Her eyes widened.
"That group?" she muttered.
Kasumi turned to her. "You know them, Yukina-senpai?"
Yukina nodded. "A mysterious online circle that always uploads their songs at exactly 1:00 A.M. No one knows who they are or what they look like. Their music appears, takes the internet by storm, then disappears again." She exhaled. "I didn't think your sister would be one of them."
"Neither did I," Riku admitted. "Grandfather was the one who pointed it out. Apparently, he even met all four members back when the Future World Fes main stage was starting up."
Ran tilted her head. "So, are they good?"
Riku and Yukina exchanged a knowing glance — the kind that didn't need words.
"They're good," Riku said.
"Very good," Yukina added. "Their music carries weight — darkness, emotion, truth. It's not something you just listen to; it's something you feel. Even I was impressed."
Riku nodded. "Their songs may sound dark at first, but they're actually messages of hope — reminders that even in despair, you can still find light if you keep reaching for it."
Chisato leaned back in her chair. "So they're creating music to inspire and awaken people. That's... impressive. Two birds with one stone."
"Exactly," Riku replied. "They're proof that music can reach even the people who've forgotten how to feel." He looked toward the clock. "Anyway, I should get going. I don't want Mafuyu waiting too long. You girls can do whatever you want for now — just don't break anything, please."
He turned toward Misaki, Arisa, Chisato, and Chiyu. "You four, keep an eye on them."
Misaki smirked. "Don't need to ask twice."
Riku chuckled under his breath before heading out. The girls watched him leave, the door clicking softly behind him.
The second music room was quiet except for the faint melody of a piano echoing through the air. The tune was melancholic — not sad, but heavy with feeling. When Riku entered, Mafuyu was already seated at the grand piano, fingers gliding across the keys with practiced precision.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said.
She stopped playing and looked up. "It's okay. I was just warming up."
Riku approached the piano, leaning slightly against its frame. "So... what do you need help with?"
Mafuyu hesitated again, her eyes drifting toward the keyboard.
"Well..." she murmured, "I've been trying to finish a piece. It's supposed to be something... brighter. Something that feels free. But every time I play it, it ends up sounding... hollow."
Riku quietly moved to sit beside her on the piano bench.
"Mind if I hear it?" he asked.
Mafuyu nodded and placed her fingers on the keys once more. The melody that followed was delicate but uncertain — like sunlight filtered through thick clouds. Riku listened closely, expression unreadable. When she stopped, she looked to him nervously.
"I told myself this would be a happy song," she said softly. "But I can't seem to make it feel happy."
Riku rested his elbows on his knees. "You're trying too hard to force an emotion you don't believe in," he said gently. "Music doesn't lie, Mafuyu. If you can't feel happiness right now, then don't fake it. Let the real emotion come through first — even if it's pain."
Mafuyu blinked, her expression faltering for just a second. "But if I do that... won't it just sound depressing?"
"Maybe," he said with a faint smirk. "But it'll be real. And real always sounds better than perfect."
For a moment, she just stared at him — silent, thoughtful. Then, she nodded slowly.
"...Okay."
Riku gave a small nod back. "Let's start from the beginning. This time, don't think. Just play."
She took a quiet breath, and as her fingers touched the keys again, the melody changed — softer, warmer, still tinged with melancholy, but alive this time.
Riku watched quietly, a faint smile forming on his face.
He didn't say it aloud, but in that fleeting moment, Mafuyu wasn't hiding behind her mask.
For once, she was just herself.