#sorry for the way it sort of pbbbts out at the end i had run out of gas six exits ago and had to end this madness somehow

[recurring-polynya]

BLEACH Anime Celebration

Day 3 Prompt: Time to Celebrate -The characters are celebrating a Soul Society-specific holiday -Cooking is involved -One character is trying and failing to hide something -Is based on or features the theme of ‘belonging’

I spent so much more time on this dumb idea than I intended to. Does "Squad Ten Day" even count as a holiday? Maybe it's more like a bank holiday. I probably could have done better, but I really liked the idea that it was on 10/10, the same day as the anime premier.

Anyway, I would like to dedicate this to @bleachbleachbleach primarily because of their post about Matsumoto's soup (which based on my research might be kenchinjiru?) but I put another special B3 reference in there, too, for funsies.

| ao3 | ff.net |

🍲 🍶 ⚽

“Abarai,” said Chad, “why are we here?”

Renji leaned on the doorbell again, shifting the cardboard box he was carrying onto his hip. “Because we’ve been in the World of the Living for over a month now, and Rangiku is starting to lose it,” Renji deadpanned.

“But why are we at Ichigo’s house?”

“My understanding is that Inoue’s kitchen wasn’t big enough.”

For what? Chad wanted to ask, but didn’t suspect he would get a straight answer, so instead he asked “Is Ichigo back?”

“Not that I’ve heard.”

Ayasegawa answered the door, bringing the surrealness of this encounter to new levels. “Happy Squad Ten Day,” he said dryly.

“Happy Squad Ten Day,” Renji replied in the same tone of voice.

“Is that Abarai? Did he bring it?” Madarame’s excited voice rang from somewhere inside.

“Yes and yes!” Renji hollered back as Ayasegawa stepped aside to let them both into the entry.

“What’s Squad Ten Day?” Chad asked gingerly as they stowed their shoes and jackets before heading into the main part of the house..

“It’s October tenth,” Renji explained. “You know. 10/10.”

“It’s one of those silly little Gotei things,” Yumichika added. “Like a birthday, but for the whole squad. Some squads take it more seriously than others.”

“Like Squad Ten,” Chad guessed.

Renji made a face. “It’s not that they take it seriously, but Rangiku always likes to throw a party. Squad Ten Day is traditionally open-invitation anyway, and…” He gave a big shrug. “We’ve all been a little on edge, y’know? She wants to do some big-batch cooking, I’ll show up and eat it, that’s just the kind of stand-up guy I am.”

“REN-JIIIIIIII!” Lieutenant Matsumoto sang, throwing herself over the Kurosaki’s breakfast bar to wave at them. “Congratulations! You’re now the Sixth Seat of Squad-Ten-in-Exile! Unless you want to challenge for a higher seat?”

“I’ll pass,” Renji replied, hefting his box up onto the bar. “Hmm. Sixth Seat. Very nostalgic.”

“And Chad!! Oh, I’m so happy you came! You can be Seventh Seat! Renji, you get extra manju for bringing Chad!!”

“Yesssss,” Renji pumped a fist.

“Also, please challenge Madarame for Fourth Seat, he’s being a pain!”

“Just try it, Sell-Out!” Madarame growled from where he was lounging on the Kurosaki couch. “If I win, I get your manju.”

“Nah,” Renji shook his head. “Rather have my manju and no paperwork, thanks.” He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and flopped into it. Chad took the seat next him, a little more carefully.

“There’s paperwork?!” Madarame exploded. “I’m only here for the food and booze!”

“There is no paperwork,” Captain Hitsugaya said dryly. Chad hadn’t even noticed him, sitting on the far side of Kurosaki’s kitchen table. “Aside from the weekly mission reports you’re supposed to be turning in, of which I have received zero.”

“I’m not a shinigami,” Chad pointed out, a few beats behind the rest of the conversation. “I’m not sure I should have a seat.”

“Oh, of course you can have a seat!” Matsumoto said, waving a ladle. “This is Squad Ten-in-Exile. All comers welcome. We don’t have standards. Kon is the Third Seat. We’re only assigning seats by order of arrival. Isshin also refused to take a seat, he said…” Rangiku trailed off suddenly. “I need to stir my soup.” She suddenly became very interested in a big pot of something that was bubbling on the stove.

“Ichigo’s dad is here?” Chad echoed.

As if on cue, the back door slammed open and the man himself walked in wearing an apron over one of his usual brightly patterned shirts. Kon, in his little lion body, was perched on Dr. Kurosaki’s head. “The grill is hot! Where are those sweetfish, my sweet Rangiku?”

“They’re in the fridge where you left them!” Rangiku yelled back crossly. “And don’t call me that, man who I just met this afternoon!”

Dr. Kurosaki blinked at her for a moment, then his eyes slowly panned across the room. “Abarai! Sado! So glad you could make it!”

“Yo,” Renji replied, waving one big hand.

“Er, hello, Dr. Kurosaki,” Chad said. “I, um. I didn’t know. That you. Um. Knew. About.” He looked around at the assortment of shinigami strewn around the room. “This.”

“What, that my son has taken on part-time employment as some sort of mystical psychopomp?” I know things!” Dr. Kurosaki regarded Chad with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t suppose they’ve got you guiding souls to the afterlife, as well?”

“Er, no,” Chad hedged. “I just…help Ichigo sometimes.”

It occurred to Chad that it was good they were doing this in the middle of the day, while Ichigo's sisters were at school. Then, he immediately began hoping that Dr. Kurosaki wouldn't think to ask him why he wasn't at school.

It didn't seem to occur to Dr. Kurosaki, who clapped Chad on the shoulder as he headed for the kitchen. “You have no idea what joy that knowledge brings to my heart! I already knew about Miss Inoue, but his old boon companion, Sado, as well? My lucky son, to have such stalwart comrade!” He leaned over and said conspiratorially, “These shinigami are nice, but they’re already dead, how much can you really trust them?”

“Not Nee-san!” Kon protested. “Nee-san is the most beautiful and trustworthy person in either world!”

“Very true!” Dr. Kurosaki declared. “Of course I was not speaking of my beloved third daughter, whom I heard was supposed to be sending us a care package.”

“Oh, right, how did I get so distracted!” Matsumoto squealed, flouncing over to Renji’s cardboard box and ripping it open. She pulled out an old-fashioned ceramic sake bottle and rubbed it against her cheek happily. “Ohhhhhhh, I have missed you, baby! The sake in the World of the Living simply isn’t the same.”

“What did we get?” Ayasegawa asked, wandering over to help investigate. “Paint thinner or liquid gold? You honestly can never tell with our dear friend Rukia. Not that I’m not grateful for either.”

Rangiku stuck out her lower lip as she read the text on the bottle. “Kanetaka ‘Maple Splendor.’ I haven’t heard of that particular one, but Kanetaka is high end. It’s one of Captain Kyouraku’s favorites.”

“It’s their fall seasonal offering,” Renji mumbled, leaning his chair back on two legs, just like Ichigo did all the time. “Very dry. Great with fish.”

“Look who’s fancy now!” Matsumoto teased.

“Shut up. I never saw what was in that box, for the record. ‘Miscellaneous, mission-related supplies,’ that’s what I made Urahara write on the matter-conversion-service receipt.” He jerked his chin toward Captain Hitsugaya. “Also, you didn’t hear that, Captain.”

“Noted,” Captain Hitsugaya sighed. “At least you get receipts.”

“I am very curious as to how the alcohol of the Land of the Dead compares to our own,” Dr. Kurosaki announced, pulling down some sake cups from a high cupboard. “See what I have to look forward to when I eventually shuffle off this mortal coil.”

“I want some too!” Kon insisted.

“If my math is correct, you are five months old,” Dr. Kurosaki pointed out. “And a stuffed animal.”

“I was a pill for hundreds of years, though!”

Ayasegawa had been rummaging around in the box, setting more bottles of sake out on the bar, along with a few packages that looked like they might contain other treats. He suddenly came up with a carefully folded letter. “What is this?” he exclaimed dramatically. He squinted at the address, moving the envelope nearer and farther from his face, as though he was having trouble reading it, even though he obviously wasn’t. “‘Lieutenant Abarai Renji, Sixth Division Assistant Captain’, do we have one of those?”

“Give me that,” Renji growled, jumping up and making a grab for the letter.

“It’s got a little bee drawn down in the corner!” Ayasegawa exclaimed. “What could that possibly mean?”

“B-cipher,” Renji grunted, palming Ayasegawa’s face and successfully wrenching the letter out of his hand.

“Watch the booze!” Matsumoto scolded, hugging her bottle to her chest protectively.

“Oooh, a coded letter!” Kon exclaimed, jumping onto Renji’s shoulder as he settled himself back in his chair. “I am experienced at cracking Nee-san’s genius puzzle-writing!”

Renji regarded Kon with an amused look in his eyes. “What, she leave you a note in tanuki-code or something?”

Kon’s little mouth opened and then closed again. “It was a very sneaky code.”

“Mm,” Renji said, unfolding his letter. “B-cipher is a top-level Rukia encryption, though. A lot harder to crack.” He held it up for Kon’s inspection. “What do you think?”

“Oh,” said Kon.

Chad didn’t mean to be nosy, but he glanced over before he could stop himself. It didn’t matter. Instead of writing, the page was covered with a series of dashes in big swirls and curls, like the way you would draw the path of a bee in a cartoon. The more he looked at it, the more he realized that some of the dashes were dots, or double-dashes. It made sense, of course. Kuchiki was a very clever and tricksy person. Chad could never come up with his own system of writing like that. It would be pretty cool, in his opinion, just to be able to decode it in his head the way Renji was clearly doing.

“Things are pretty quiet in Soul Society,” Renji reported, his eyes scanning the page. “Rukia says Inoue is doing great with her training. The Bulletin put out a special edition, she saved us a few copies. Oh, here’s some good news! She says Captain Ukitake agreed to handle the real Squad Ten Day festivities.”

“Yay!” Matsumoto cheered softly as she filled a row of sake cups.

“Oh, good,” Captain Hitsugaya agreed.

“--apparently Captain Kyouraku volunteered to help.”

“Oh, no,” Captain Hitsugaya said.

“Ohhhhhh, I bet they’ll have so much funnnnnn,” Matsumoto moaned.

“But they will not have my delicious grilled ayu!” Dr. Kurosaki declared, snagging a cup of sake as he carried a tray of fish toward the back door.

“Also, Matsumoto soup,” Captain Hitsugaya said, with somewhat uncharacteristic tenderness. “I guarantee you people will talk about the lack of soup.” Despite the fact that he was sitting in the corner and grumbling a lot, Chad got the sense that he was actually much more relaxed than usual, perhaps in honor of the occasion.

“Thank you, Captain,” Matsumoto replied glumly. “Also, you bought those manju from the bakery Orihime recommended. They look really good.”

“The manju do look really good,” Hitsugaya nodded.

“I’ve been wondering…” said Chad slowly. “What does Squad Thirteen do for their special day? Since there are only twelve months?”

“That’s a good question,” Matsumoto frowned. “Renji, do you know?”

“I asked Rukia about that once,” Renji remarked. He was still reading his letter, slowly rotating it sideways as he read around a curve. “All she would say was ‘every day is a party at Squad Thirteen.’”

“I didn’t think of this earlier,” Madarame interrupted, “but if we get to November 11 and the war hasn’t started yet, Yumi and me’re going home. I will miss the Tournament of Blood for an actual war, but if it’s still just waiting around, we’re out.”

“Agreed,” Ayasegawa nodded firmly. “Actually, we’ll need to go home…probably around the ninth. The Tournament of Blood doesn’t plan itself.”

“It’s just brackets. We can make brackets here,” Madarame wrinkled his nose and took a sip of his sake. “Wow! What is this stuff? Sake isn’t supposed to taste good.”

Ayasegawa ignored the sidebar. “For you, it’s just brackets! I have to do catering! Decorations! Graphic design! It’s not like I can simply employ the services of some Living World printmakers. Do they even have those here?”

“I know how to make flyers on the computer,” said Chad, who occasionally did up signs for his gym. He got a membership discount in exchange for occasionally doing a bit of cleaning and odd jobs around the place. He liked making the flyers best though. He liked taking his time and making them look cool. He even had a cool drippy blood font from a boxing tournament they had run last spring that he bet Squad Eleven would really appreciate.

Ayasegawa’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? That’s just text, though, right? I want something really colorful. Maybe even a picture, like a snarling tiger or a scorpion.” He scrunched his fingers for emphasis.

“I can do those things,” Chad reassured him.

Ayasegawa blinked. “Oh! Well… I would be very interested to see what you can do.”

“Sure,” said Chad, wondering if there was any way to email a file to Soul Society.

“Normally, I wouldn’t even consider this,” Madarame declared, “but since half the fun of making brackets is shouting about them, you can help if you want, Abarai, you deserter.”

Renji had gotten very engrossed in his letter, and he looked up suddenly, his cheeks and the tips of his ears very pink. “Huh? What? Tournament of Blood? No one loves the Tournament of Blood more than me, but I’m not bailing on the mission for it.”

Madarame let out an exasperated sigh. “Brackets, Abarai, I asked if you wanted to help with brackets. Like I would let you participate. Maybe I would let you fight Iba. Special charity match for losers.”

“Ohhhh, brackets. Sure, why not? That’ll be a ‘no’ on fighting Iba, though. I always have to fight Iba in the Tournament of Blood. Maybe he deserves a year off from getting his ass kicked.”

“You’ve gotten really lame since you joined Squad Six, pal. I think you should come back.”

“I’ve gotten really lame since we’ve been in the Living World for a month (no offense, Chad, I cherish our time together). Also, it’s my day off. I just want to get drunk and eat Matsumoto soup. Speaking of which, someone pour me some of Captain Kuchiki’s good sake, please and thank you.”

“What is Squad Six day like, anyway?” Yumichika asked, fetching Renji a cup of sake. (“Would you like one, Sado?” “No, thank you. I’m only 16.”) “It can’t possibly be as dreadful as it is in my imagination.”

“Well…” Renji drew out and then took a long sip of his sake. “I don’t know what it’s normally like. It was my first day.”

“That’s a funny coincidence!” Kon commented.

“It wasn’t a coincidence. Captain thought that would be cool, I guess, who knows. Anyway, there were speeches. Captain gave a speech. Old Vice-Captain Shirogane gave a speech. I gave a speech. There were poetry recitations. There was a kidou demonstration. There was a tea ceremony. It was…it was really something. The day felt like it was about nine thousand hours long.”

“But was there soup?” Matsumoto asked, pointing her spoon at him.

“There was not, but there was the ritziest sushi spread I have ever seen, and this caliber of booze,” he said, tapping his cup. “I was kinda too nervous to enjoy it, a mistake I will not repeat next year.” He took another sip of his drink. “Also next year, I might ask if, since we don’t need as many speeches, if maybe I could add something in. A little Assistant Captain Abarai spice. Stone-lifting competition. Historical battle reenactment. Something like that.”

“I prefer soup,” Matsumoto said, tasting her efforts. “I think it’s ready, actually. Is anyone ready for soup?”

There was a bright chorus of “Me!”s and “Yes!”es. Chad savored the feel of a living room full of death gods sounding very much like a group of elementary schoolers being offered a treat.

Captain Hitsugaya was given the first bowl (“because he’s the captain”), but seat order apparently didn’t matter after that, because Chad got the next one (“because he’s the nicest”, according to Matsumoto, but no one argued). That was where Chad stopped paying attention because he was busy eating soup. It was delicious. Chad kept all of his abuelo’s cooking in a separate category in his mind, but this might be the best Japanese soup he had ever eaten. He was halfway through it before realizing it was vegetarian, the broth was so savory and warming, crowded with hearty root vegetables and thick, meaty mushroom slices. A good soup for October.

Dr. Kurosaki returned bearing a beautiful platter of grilled ayu, crispy and fragrant. Matsumoto perched primly on one of the barstools and detailed all the substitutions she had to make for the soup. Chad wouldn’t have expected Captain Hitsugaya to be sympathetic to this sort of thing, but maybe he just disliked the World of the Living, because he kept chipping in peevish statements of solidarity, and assuring her that the end result was up to its usual standard of quality. Madarame and Yumichika, whom Chad can’t possibly imagine cooking, loudly argued about whether things tasted more strongly in the World of the Living or if it was just and effect of the gigai. Kon kept whining about wanting a taste, until Matsumoto tried to push a carrot into his little lion mouth. Dr. Kurosaki lamented that Matsumoto’s soup was killing him with nostalgia, and Chad wondered if maybe Ichigo’s mom used to cook something similar, and felt a little sad.

Chad felt a gentle elbow in his ribs. Renji had been quiet throughout the antics, engrossed in his letter while his soup sat ignored at his elbow. “There was a second page,” he said simply, handing it over. “For you.”

Chad couldn’t imagine what Kuchiki would have to say to him, and furthermore, he certainly didn’t know her special code. This letter wasn’t in code, though, and it wasn’t from Kuchiki. It was from Inoue.

“Dear Chad!

I hope you are well and that you are looking after Renji.

(Renji, if you are reading this, please stop! You have your own letter!)

Rukia worries about him a lot and I told her you are very responsible and would keep him out of trouble. I have complete confidence in you, but I just wanted you to know that we are all depending on you!!

It seems so strange to be training without you! Of course I miss Uryuu and Ichigo, too, but you and I have always done our most important training together! I am working very hard, though, and whenever I get frustrated and want to stop, I think about you at home training hard, too. If you ever get tired and grumpy, please imagine me saying “Keep going, Chad! You can do it! I believe in you!” Do you remember the time we were first learning our powers and we knocked a hole in that abandoned building and Yoruichi-san yelled at us but then we went and got soba afterwards? I think about that a lot.

Rukia has also been a very good training buddy! I am learning so much from her! Mostly we train, but she has shown me some neat parts of the Seireitei that I didn’t get to see last time, and I have met some of her friends. I am staying at her house, which is BONKERS NICE.

I was a little worried that her brother would be mean, since Ichigo said he was kind of a jerk, but Rukia says he is Trying to Do Better. Captain Kuchiki has been helping her with her kidou and sometimes I learn things from watching them. He never makes jokes but sometimes he says things that are so funny I think my stomach is going to explode. I wish I could show him Laugh Hour.

Tomorrow is a special holiday for Squad Ten, and we are going over there to help with their celebration. As weird as it has been already, I just can’t imagine Squad Ten being Squad Ten without Lieutenant Matsumoto and Captain Hitsugaya. [Three lines, scratched out]

I guess you will be having the same party in the World of the Living, which will not be AT Squad Ten, but WILL have Lieutenant Matsumoto and Captain Hitsugaya. That is not as good as being at the same party together, but maybe if we are all doing the same thing, we won’t notice so much that none of us are where we are supposed to be.

I hope that everyone likes the sake! Rukia and I had to very sneakily sneak it out of the Kuchiki Manor storeroom and then carry it all the way over to Squad Twelve where she convinced a very grumpy man with horns to get it to Karakura for us. Chad, I cannot tell you enough how impossibly cool Rukia is. I mean, we already knew she was cool, but she keeps getting cooler. Did you see that letter she wrote Renji?? She says that is a super-secret code that she couldn’t teach me, but she knows a lot of different ones and is even helping me make up my own! I wrote you a secret message below!! If you need help cracking it, you can ask Renji. Rukia says he’s not as good at codes as she is, but he knows how she comes up with them. It’s not a real secret message, it’s just for fun. I wrote secret messages for Uryuu and Ichigo, too, if they come back! Since you will have already solved yours by then, you can help them, but only if they are super nice to you and also admit that having a secret friendship code is super-cool. The very last one is for Tatsuki. It is in a different code. Please give it to her if you see her, but I trust you not to try to crack it. Thank you very, Chad! You are the very best and I miss you lots!

Orihime”

The letter covered the front of the page and spilled onto the back, but there was plenty of room below that for rows and rows of little squares of hashed lines, in different orientations. Three horizontal. Two vertical. A space. Two crossed like an x. It made Chad’s eyes swim. He had no idea how he was going to solve it. Orihime had made it, though, and if she thought he could do it, maybe he could. Maybe Abarai and he could work on it during rest breaks.

The last few lines, under Tatsuki’s name, were all flowers. Chad was no expert in flowers, but he knew these. Plum blossom. Hibiscus. Lily. Daisy. Iris. Camellia. Chad had no idea how you encoded a message in only six characters and it looked like it must have taken forever to draw. Inoue was a lot smarter than he was, though. He felt grateful for his hashes.

“Oi, Chad,” Renji murmured and Chad looked up suddenly. “Sorry. Was trying not to startle you. I’m getting more soup. You want seconds?”

“Er, yes, please,” Chad agreed. He had no idea how Renji had inhaled his soup so quickly. On the other hand, Renji ate faster and more voluminously than nearly anyone Chad had ever met, aside from possibly Rukia.

“Don’t fill up!” Matsumoto warned Renji as he made his way back into the kitchen. “We’re going to play Captain Hitsugaya Trivia to earn manju in a few minutes!”

“We are not,” Captain Hitsugaya insisted.

“That’s not fair!” Madarame roared. “Shorty’s gonna have a huge advantage!”

“He prefers ‘Captain Shorty,’” Ayasegawa reminded him.

“Hmm,” Captain Hitsugaya appeared to be reconsidering his stance on Captain Hitsugaya Trivia.

“You may be surprised,” Matsumoto nodded knowingly. “I was very creative with the questions.”

“We are definitely not playing,” Captain Hitsugaya concluded his deliberations.

“Chad and I are growing boys,” Renji pointed out. “We can eat soup and all the manju we are going to win at Captain Hitsugaya Trivia.”

“You’re full of it!” Madarame accused. “You don’t know crap about Captain Hitsugaya!”

“I’ve been friends with Momo for forty years and Rangiku for close to thirty. I’ve met his grandma. I also happen to know a lot about ice and snow zanpakutou, like, on a technical level.”

Madarame scowled. “I’ve been friends with Rangiku for longer’n you! Yumichika, how long have we known Rangiku?”

“Long enough,” Matsumoto and Ayasegawa said in unison.

“Yeah, but you don’t actually listen to the things she says,” Renji pointed out.

“That is true!” Madarame agreed angrily.

“I think I will also be good at Captain Hitsugaya Trivia,” Ichigo’s dad chipped in, rubbing the back of his head. “We just met this afternoon, but I feel a deep kinship between us! Also, I am an extremely good guesser.”

Captain Hitsugaya began to grumble inaudibly under his breath.

“I don’t really know very much about Captain Hitsugaya,” Chad admitted. “I probably won’t be very good. I’m sorry.”

Matsumoto flashed him a kind smile. “Oh, Chad, don’t be so serious! We’re just having some fun!”

“That’s right,” Captain Hitsugaya added. “We’re not actually playing Captain Hitsugaya trivia.”

“No, we definitely are, but everyone will get manju, and by everyone, I specifically mean Chad.”

“Another fact I know about Captain Hitsugaya,” Renji declared, sliding back into his seat and sliding Chad his refilled bowl, “is that he is very good at football. Coincidentally, so is Chad. And so am I.”

Captain Hitsugaya jabbed a finger at Renji. “That is a true fact!” His eyes slid sideways. “Matsumoto. I’ll let you be team captain if you give up on Captain Hitsugaya Trivia.”

Matsumoto took a deep breath and made a horrible face for several seconds. Finally, she let it out. “Okayyyyyy,” she agreed.

Dr. Kurosaki stroked his chin stubble. “My beautiful backyard, which I lovingly maintain, is just barely big enough for a three-on-three, with one substitute on each side. I will have you know, I was quite the hotshot player, in my youth.”

“You and Kon can be on our team,” Team Captain Matsumoto decided. “Renji can have Yumichika and Ikkaku.”

“We’re gonna whup your butts and take all your manju!” Madarame threatened.

“Come now, dear” Ayasegawa patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s keep things within the spirit of Squad Ten Day.”

“There are manju at stake,” Captain Hitsugaya pointed. “That was pretty squarely within the spirit of Squad Ten Day.”

“I can finish my soup first, right?” Chad asked. “It’s really good.”

“That,” said Matsumoto, “is also in the spirit of Squad Ten Day.”

[addict-with-pen]

Echoes of Rosegold (Pt 1)

Zilanna was slightly annoyed.

She stared at her reflection with an air of defiance as she gripped at the ruffles of her light blue skirt. A party, of all things, was not exactly her idea of “fun.” In fact, that was the very last thing she would have classified as “fun.” Torture. That was a far more accurate term. “Agony” was another good one...

“Milady,” A voice came from the doorway as the oaken door creaked open just slightly. Zilanna turned deep blue eyes to regard the maid who had entered her room: a young woman, roughly the same age as Zilanna with almost garish, flame red hair and brilliant green eyes. Zilanna couldn't help but grin at her.

“Yes, Mara? Is something the matter?”

“No, milady.” Mara curtsied quickly, a mere formality than show of respect. The two friends were far beyond that sort of foolishness, as Zilanna deemed it. Mara, meanwhile, insisted that the heiress keep up her appearances.

“Is my father ready to leave?” Zilanna asked with a small sigh, carefully fastening her mother's silver locket around her neck. The maid nodded and stepped forward to begin fumbling with the back of Zilanna's dress.

“Your back is slightly loose, Zilanna.”

“But I don’t want it that tight.” Zilanna whined. Mara let out a small chuckle.

“Now, now, milady, you know how important first impressions are. We have a chance to actually move toward friendly relations with Rigel.”

“I know that, but when the back is so tight it makes the rest of the dress uncomfortable.” Zilanna moaned. “Stupid things. Whoever invented corsets and things deserves to be shot with a good lightning spell.”

“Of course, milady.” Mara snorted, shaking her head slightly. “However, with a waist like yours, the men must be trampling each other to court you.”

Zilanna rolled her eyes. “That or the title I’m to inherit one day. Either way, there are many men. Each more annoying than these gowns are.”

“Milady, one day you will find some poor fool to marry and it will be hilarious.” Mara giggled as she gently poked Zilanna, who pouted at the maid, her cheeks puffing slightly as she blew out a breath with a “Pbbbt” sound.

“If that day ever comes, Mara, you have my word that I will...I dunno but it'll be something."

“I...think I'll look forward to it?” Mara giggled, but accepted the promise nonetheless. "But you do deserve to find someone, Zilanna. I know Blanc-"

"Please..." the dark-headed woman whispered. She hugged herself tightly, lip trembling. Her whole demeanor had changed at the mere mention of her now former fiance. The maid frowned, lightly hugging her friend.

"I'm sorry, Zil. I know everything from that...hurts. But, you're worth it. Somebody is gonna find you and think you're the most beautiful girl they've ever seen. I know it. And they're gonna do everything they can to prove it to you."

"I...hope you're right. I really do, Mara. But..." Zilanna sighed, resting both her hands on her dresser: a mahogany piece of furniture with intricate carvings along the edges. "It's hard to see that sometimes."

"I know, milady." Mara nodded. A few moments slipped by before the maid said softly:

"Zilanna, let me do your hair."

The brunette nodded. Mara smiled and pulled a small chair over to the front of the dresser. Zilanna thanked her and sat down. The red-head began to run her mistress' dark brown locks through a hairbrush.  Zilanna absently picked at the deep blue lace of her sleeves as she recalled her courtship with Blanc. Scenes whirled through her memories. Laughter and smiles as skirts swished across a marble ballroom floor. Quiet nights spent cuddling on a hill as the sun went down or in the skies, her pegasus glowing in a milky white in the light of the moon. Red splattered across the same ballroom floor as something closed around her throat. Squirming as her vision went black and loud, maniacal laughter-

Zilanna snapped herself out of it with a yelp. Mara let out a startled gasp, dropping a lock of Zilanna's hair that she had been carefully arranging into part of the updo she was styling.

"Milady?"

"I'll...I'll be fine..." she shook her head quietly. Mara frowned.

“D’you still think of it?”

“I loved him with everything I had, Mara.” Zilanna shook her head. “I was stupid.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself. He had us all fooled.” Mara gently patted her shoulder. "Besides, there's still plenty of time to find someone. The world's a big place, Zil. There's bound to be at least one person for you."

Zilanna let out a small, hollow laugh. “Ever the optimist, maid. Now, I had best be off and find my parents.”

The young woman moved to stand up, but two hands firmly pushed her back down into the chair.

”Nope. I'm not done with your hair yet, miss~"

Zilanna huffed as she climbed into her family's carriage, her long, dark brown hair held back by two silver barrettes that Mara had dug up from one of Zilanna's jewelry boxes.

“Zilanna.” her father, Zhentiran looked at her out of honest, eyes that were a deeper blue than Zilanna's. The young woman snapped out of her thoughts as the carriage lurched forward, beginning its trip down a bumpy, very short, path. The ball was at one of the neighboring locals' estates. Zilanna didn’t know whose. She regarded her father quietly.

“Yes, father?”

“I am...sure that I do not have to tell you the importance of tonight.” Zhentiran told her softly.

Zilanna let out a quiet sigh. “I still worry about the Divine Accord. This would be breaking it, wouldn’t it?”

Her father shook his head. “No. This shouldn’t end in a war...gods willing.” he paused for a moment before continuing: “You have been studying magic still, right?”

“Yes.”

“I hope you never have to use it.” Zhentiran sighed, gently patting the top of Zilanna’s head, making sure not to disturb the curls Mara had carefully styled moments before they had left. She gave a small nod.

“Yeah.”

“One more thing,” Zhentiran looked down at his lap, where two masks lay. He picked up a sparkling one that almost looked like a silver swan was trying to leap off the front of the mask and handed it to Zilanna. “There was one last thing I didn't tell you. This is a masquerade party. The hosts decided that would be a fun thing to do.”

Zilanna gave a soft chuckle and accepted the mask, carefully strapping it onto her face. “Interesting. I thought we were supposed to get to know each other? In order to start good relations and all that. ”

“I think the idea is that we get to know each other without knowing each other’s identities. It’s the easiest way to forget prejudices. If you can’t recognize a Rigelian noble, you’ll treat them as you would a Zofian, wouldn’t you?”

“I suppose.”

The carriage rolled to a stop only a few moments later, and Zilanna stepped out, eyeing the walkway as she walked into the tall, whitened mansion, its spires practically touching the sky. Zhentiran lightly took her arm and led her down the lamplit pathway. Zilanna sighed glancing down at her deep blue heels, which were currently pinching her toes. Her father chuckled softly and gave her arm a quick squeeze as they walked through the swooping arches that made up the entrance to the manor. Her father was almost instantly approached by a tall man in a white suit with dark black hair.

“Zhentiran!” the man called, giving Zilanna's father a friendly clap on the back. Zilanna eyed the new man warily, though the look was well hidden behind her mask. Zhentiran sighed and tapped his own navy blue mask.

“We aren't supposed to know each other, Rhonan.” He said, his tone more amused than anything. Zilanna snickered quietly.

“Oh come now, Zhentiran, you know the Zofian nobility are as tightly knit as a band of thieves...who is your lovely companion? I didn’t know Alani had recovered enough to...by the gods is that Zilanna?! ”

Zilanna smiled shyly and curtsied. “Tis I, milord.”

“You have grown into quite the lovely, young woman. You really do take after your mother.” Rhonan smiled at her.

“I am but a simple young woman, milord.” Zilanna bowed her head slightly. Rhonan shook his head with a chuckle.

“I don't know about simple, Lady Zilanna. That implies that you're demure. I think you'd fry any fool that pushed you the wrong way. Definitely not a bad trait, my dear."

Zilanna smirked as her father bid farewell to Rhonan. The baron smiled slyly at Zilanna and pointed to a small table in the corner of the ballroom, where a young man with blue hair was staring at the dancers with a bored look on his face.

“My son is over there, if you'd like someone to play with.” he said with a wave of his hand. “It was good to see you again, Lady Zilanna.”

Zilanna gave him another bow of her head. Her father gently patted her arm before releasing her.

“Go on, daughter. I hardly believe you'd like to hang around us old men.”

“You're not old, father.” Zilanna laughed. “But you are right.”

“Just… be careful Zilanna. Please?”

“Yes, of course. I promise to avoid the Rigelian men who might take an interest to me.” she giggled softly. “I know that’s what you’re worried about~”

Her father chuckled. “I never said that.”

“No, but I also know you.”

“Too well. You know me far too well.” Zhentiran shook his head. “Now go. Have fun.”