#(Don't worry Shinobu Sonia will want to hear all about your archery equipment)

[more-than-a-princess]

That was easy enough to say, Sonia smiling through the irony of it all as Shika-san led her into a spin, quite gracefully, to her surprise. "I'm afraid concern for others is both a personal and professional trait of mine," She explained. A bit coy, yes, but she often tried to hold out as long as she could without mentioning what she was. People looked at her differently: they always looked at her differently after they knew. "So you must be subject to it. I hope it is not too taxing for you."

She chuckled: at least one of them looked cheerful at it all, though it seemed her dancing partner wasn't one to wear their emotions on their sleeve. A careful mask, a choice of how to look and what to say: they wouldn't be the first friend she'd made with such qualities, and with Sonia's preferred tastes, they likely wouldn't be the last. She had a soft spot, she knew, for those who did not easily smile, who pondered and brooded and appeared all manner of imposing until she uncovered something soft, something warm, beneath a cold, hard exterior. Already, less than an hour after darting out onto the rainy balcony for a reprieve, Sonia was certain her new friend had something kind and gentle beneath their surface.

In the meantime, they'd prove to surprise her, Sonia's face reading as such as they explained their attendance that evening. "I think such passion is worthwhile indeed," She nodded her agreement, taking another step back in time to the music, her partner guiding her closer to some of the displays near a small stage set for announcements or speeches. Like the sort she'd be asked to give later in the evening. "But I did guess you were an artist yourself, based on the drawing you penciled in on my dance card. I'm not sure that I'm wrong, even if your attendance was arranged by a classmate."

Even if they likely weren't attending for the same reasons, they could still find some common ground. As evident by their description of their school, one that brightened Sonia's mood instantly. "Oh, I attend a private high school in the same area! Perhaps you've heard of it," She replied gleefully, "Hope's Peak Academy. It is made up of students with unique talents, rather than a traditional classroom setting. It's a wonderful place!" Unlike her partner, Sonia's opinion of her (well, their) school was glowing. A stark departure from her old school In Utero, which was populated by the offspring of only the most prestigious families in Europe: aristocracy and heirs alike, old and new money mingling  with an overall sense of prestige, class, and most importantly, snobbery. The mix of backgrounds and personalities at Hope's Peak never ceased to fascinate her: she was far happier there than In Utero had ever been for her.

Besides: even if Novoselic held a fascination with everything Japanese, nothing could compare to sharing a classroom with real Japanese students, some of whom, such as Hiyoko Saionji, excelled in traditional arts. She thought of her hotheaded classmate at the description. "Oh, traditional stage acting! Like kabuki? Or other sorts of acting?" She inquired, "A friend of mine is a traditional dancer, and I've been privileged to attend some of her performances. But I don't have many chances to see traditional theater unfortunately: it's usually for my work. But as for my favorite...oh, perhaps steer us to the left, if you may."

Her partner was leading after all, and Sonia wasn't about to cut in, throwing them both off balance in order to take the lead from her. Instead she nodded in the direction she wanted them to go: not towards the elegant silk furisode with metallic threads woven throughout, or the shamisen, or the taiko drums: instead, her head tilted in the direction of a small, yet very worn book. Written in calligraphy with a careful hand on now-yellowing pages, it contained a variety of Japanese folktales. Stories of the nation's spirits, gods and ghosts alike, with hand-inked art and bound with string. She looked away from her partner then, smiling down at it as they got closer.

"It's this book," She clarified, admiration in her eyes as they whirled by in time with the music. "It's full of Japanese folk tales, about all sorts of spirits, gods, demons: I grew up learning these tales from my family, with a more recent edition of course. This is one of the first ever compiled: centuries old and very delicate, probably too much to be read now. But it symbolizes the passing of tradition through stories, through learning across generations. I quite like that-"

She'd wanted to ask, then, about their family's archery tools: beyond books and everything spooky, Sonia had a knowledge about weapons. Modern military to be precise, but the Royal Family did keep relics of the past in their own collections and in museums: bows, arrows, and crossbows among them. She wondered how her partner's collection differed from the ones she was used to, but she wasn't given a chance. Only to gasp with a small "Oh!" as she was pulled flush against their chest.

They'd done it to avoid a drunken guest and the red wine that now adorned their shoes. Perhaps a young woman with lesser poise might have stammered, blushed and turned it into an embarrassing moment, something that meant far more than it did. But Sonia was composed through and through, and despite how close they were, her shoulders brushing against their jacket and arm pressed between them rather than at a respectable distance, she merely smiled warmly up at her. The intimacy of it would not go unnoticed, Sonia knew, judging from the other guests and how quickly, discreetly, they communicated electronically that the Princess of Novoselic was being held by a masked guest whose name presumably nobody knew.

The small steps they'd taken to direct her to a safer section of the floor had, indeed, saved her dress and her dignity alike. "Thank you, Shika-san. That was very kind of you, to look after me and my dress. We are both unharmed, though it wouldn't be the first time I've encountered a drunken person at a ball." No, it was the norm in Novoselic: the key was to not get caught by anyone important, something the Japanese ball hadn't quite mastered as the man was led away by security.

"A thousand apologies, Your Royal Highness," One of the men bowed, clad in the same black suits as the other members of staff, a lapel pin signifying he was the one to lead them, as they hauled the man away.

"It is nothing, please do not worry about it," She replied demurely, her smile soft with her eyes downcast. Just as she'd been trained to act in formal situations with inappropriate disruptions. She glanced to her partner then with a curious, yet apologetic look. "I suppose I should be a bit more forthcoming about my attendance, shouldn't I?"

"Your concern is appreciated, Miss Nevermind. I would ask that you not worry too much about me, though." Being in that she possessed a strong constitution, Shinobu wasn't often ill. She'd endured many training days in the pouring rain or bitter cold, her fingers barely able to tighten around the grip of her bow and the string in constant danger of slipping from her grasp prematurely. The thought that a few minutes in the rain would sicken her was a ridiculous one, but Shinobu wouldn't hold that against her. That she cared to say anything at all was polite.

Despite what Sonia may have thought, Shinobu didn't dislike the dancing. Rather, they simply had the sort of face ill-suited to emotions other than detached indifference or boiling anger barely contained beneath a cold façade. They weren't in any rush for the dance to end, nor did they find the closeness uncomfortable. Even the quiet words scattered among the others around the pair bothered Shinobu little. When possible, she managed to shoot her own menacingly harsh glare back, though not holding any of them so long as to distract her from Sonia.

"That's a sensible theory," she agreed, "but, unfortunately, incorrect." 'Traditional art' had a broad meaning in Japanese, and Shinobu supposed her archery counted by some definitions, but to place herself among the other beneficiaries of the fundraiser seemed imprudent. "I'm simply someone who has respect for those who create traditional work in such nontraditional times, or those who create for their own ambitions and purposes, rather than chasing trends."

Having consciously cooled off, there was far less heat behind Shinobu's words this time, though they couldn't entirely disguise their opinions. "My presence here was arranged by a classmate of mine, who unfortunately could not attend." Through her conniving and obnoxious nature, Anzu had lost the title of friend for at least a few hours. "We both attend a private high school in Bunkyo."

The specifics weren't too important, as Shinobu held few feelings, positive or negative, towards Hope's Peak Academy. "She's a stage actress who specializes in traditional Japanese styles. Likely, she would be a more knowledgeable conversationalist about such topics." And certainly a more accomplished dancer, though Shinobu, so rarely the sort of girl to hope for anything, found herself hoping that she had neither diminished the standing of the Yaguchi Dojo in the eyes of the assembled nor diminished her own standing in the eyes of Sonia through her movements.

"There may be one or two of her outfits, somewhere, but as for myself, there isn't anything. My family owns a collection of antique archery tools, but we were not asked to display them." They wouldn't hold up next to stunning visual art, anyway, and to show them off alongside them would only make the Yaguchi Dojo seem old-fashioned or underwhelming. "But, if you have a favorite piece on display, I wouldn't be opposed to hearing about it."

Though, she'd need to wait to hear that explanation. A gentleman very near them, brimming with unearned confidence and witless bravado, was the life of a party all his own, speaking too loudly and gesturing with a hand still tightly gripped around a full wine glass. That he would stumble or slip, or otherwise lose his drink seemed inevitable, but given how Sonia had been so reluctant to allow even a few raindrops upon her dress, Shinobu could only imagine the damage that splotches of red wine might do.

Pulling Sonia closer with the hand resting on the small of her back, Shinobu took a few quick steps towards the center of the dance floor, away from the perimeter where the man was standing. Thankfully, by the time the glass shattered and red liquid splashed across the floor, the pair were far enough away for the only damage to be a small smattering of droplets upon the side of Shinobu's shoes. She spared only the briefest of looks back at the man, the mask over her face doing nothing to disguise the full extent of her malice. Her expression returned to its typical neutral state only as she returned her eyes to Sonia, relaxing her hand at the other girl's back as well. "My apologies, Miss Nevermind. I hope you and your dress are unharmed?"