Chapter Text
Akatsuki sat perched on a rusted walkway carefully hidden from view, watching the crowd flow past the brightly signposted entrance to the Ballroom Club. The balmy evening air was gentle and still around her; a warm blanket, hiding her from the world below. She was early. Very early. When she had arrived back at the guildhall after seeking Lenessia’s guidance, Akatsuki had been practically bouncing off the walls with the nervous energy bundled up inside. She had tried to meditate, but every creak of the floor had been Shrioe coming to tell her that he was leaving on some month-long quest, and every muffled laugh had been Tetra pushing one of her ridiculous schemes until Akatsuki just couldn’t bear it any longer.
Akatsuki took a deep breath, gripping the railing before her; feeling the grounding of the cool metal against her skin. Though she had already done it before leaving her room, she checked the inside of her jacket once more, confirming that her kunai were in place. True to her word, Lenessia had been exactly the help she had needed. At first, Akatsuki had barely managed to hide her shock at the sheer extent of the princess’ wardrobe. Rows upon rows of dresses and skirts expanded before her, with mysterious drawers stretching all the way to the back wall of the dressing room. Though it had seemed sheer folly to attempt finding anything specific amongst the hundreds of hangars, the princess had taken but moments to pull out a half-dozen items from the space around her.
In a whirlwind of motion Lenessia had Akatsuki try them on; giving her expert advice about the colours to best complement Akatsuki’s eyes and hair. She had been happy to simply listen and trust in the flow of the princess’ suggestions, until a particular pairing caught her eye. A maroon dress; understated but for the small white flowers dotting the fabric, next to a light grey-toned coat. It was a simple outfit, but it reminded Akatsuki of the time on Mare Tranquillitatis; where she had met her lord on that infinite beach, sharing in the peace of the lapping waves. Lenessia immediately approved, and after measurements were taken had promised to have the re-tailored outfit delivered in the early afternoon. And so it had gone, delivered without trouble; now cut to perfectly accentuate Akatsuki’s small body.
This same outfit fluttered as she shifted to a more comfortable position on the walkway. Her reflection had passed the time; a quick glance at her menu overlay told her that seven o’clock was but minutes away. She redoubled her search across the crowd, feeling the knot in her stomach twist as she strained to spot her lord. Despite her scanning, he was nowhere to be found. As the minutes ticked on, the insidious thoughts which had kept her awake long into the night prior wormed their way back into her brain. Of course he wouldn’t show up. She had been too forward; why should he want to deal with her? He had no choice but to be nice to her when he was paralysed. That was all it was. She wasn’t anyone special. She shouldn’t have come here, pretending that she was cute and dressed up—
A familiar mop of blue hair caught Akatsuki’s eye and in a split-second the darkness shattered into meaningless fragments; replaced instead by the fluttering of her heart as he came into full view. Her lord’s fondness for turtlenecks held true in the black item he currently wore, which complemented a pair of green slacks that Akatsuki had never seen before. He really had dressed up for her; even if his hair was the same mess as always. How the crowd around him didn’t stare at the beautiful man as he passed them by was a mystery to Akatsuki.
Her lord made his way to the Ballroom Club door, looking about in confusion as he did. She realised with a start that he was searching for her. She felt the heat spreading to her cheeks but there was no time to think as she vanished into her sneak, reappearing seconds later in front of her lord. His eyes widened in surprise and she was instantly aware of how close she was to him; how deep his gaze was behind the round glasses and how she absolutely couldn’t stop staring at him. A small smile spread across his face and Akatsuki’s fingers twitched unconsciously as she longed to reach up and touch the dimple in his cheek.
“Ah. Akatsuki. Hi.” Her lord coughed on the last word, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“My lord…” Akatsuki flushed a deeper red. She wrenched her gaze from the man before her, trying desperately to keep her breathing steady.
“Why don’t we go with Shiroe— just for tonight?”
Akatsuki looked back up in surprise. Her lord— no; Shiroe had reached out a hand to her, still smiling in that rare and wonderful way.
“Ok, Shiroe,” she said, trying the name out. Using it now felt different to when she’d let it slip during the hydra hunt. It was strange, but far from unpleasant. With a small nod to herself, she moved to take his offered hand. His long fingers entwined with hers, his thumb making little circles where it found the back of her hand. She had spent longer than she would care to admit watching those fingers deftly work as Shiroe scribed at his desk. In her more private moments, she had wondered what else they could work on. Now it was real and here and it was almost overwhelming for the small ninja. Once more she realised she was staring at her Guildmaster. This time though, she found Shiroe staring back at her.
“Shiroe?” she said, halfway between a question and a statement.
He blinked, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink.
“I’m sorry Akatsuki— you’re… hard to take my eyes off.”
Before Akatsuki could even begin to try to pull together a coherent response from the scattered giddiness that his words created inside her, he hastily continued.
“We should have a look inside. I’m pretty sure Marielle will kill us if we don’t use the space.”
Akatsuki nodded. Marielle was a force to be reckoned with.
Shiroe lead the way through the double doors. The small foyer and repurposed counter indicated that this had once been a theatre, or something of the sort. It was hard to think too much with the feeling of walking hand-in-hand with Shiroe overriding almost everything else. Through the foyer, her distracted observations proved nevertheless accurate, as the room opened up into what had once been a seating area. The chairs had been pulled out and replaced with smooth floorboards; perfect for dancing. Golden banners adorned the walls, marked out with the Crescent Moon logo. On the far end of the hall sat a small stage, raised a few feet above the rest of the dancing area. An indistinct object sat there, covered by a grey blanket. Marielle had been true to her word; there was no one here but her and Shiroe.
“This is a pretty nice place,” Shiroe said, looking about the room.
“It is,” Akatsuki replied.
“I heard a while back that Roderick and his Guildmates made a working gramophone. I wonder if that’s what’s under that cover,” Shiroe mused.
“I’ll go check.”
Akatsuki vanished, reappearing in front of the covered object. Her hand felt cooler now that she had let go of Shiroe’s own. She missed the feeling already. Hopefully there would be another chance for it before the evening was over.
Or maybe a chance for something more?
Akatsuki shook her head, attempting to clear it of the ever-distracting thoughts of Shiroe. With a resolute tug, she pulled the blanket off the object on the stage. It was exactly as he had guessed: an old-fashioned gramophone sat before her, its silver cone pointed towards the dancing area. Akatsuki turned back to relay the findings to Shiroe but found him already hopping up onto the stage to meet her.
“Would you look at that. Do you think we can get it working?”
“They say to never underestimate the Villain-In-Glasses,” Akatsuki replied, grinning at Shiroe.
He matched her grin, kneeling down to investigate the device before the pair. It was almost as if she could physically see the connections forming in his brain as he grappled with the problem. Akatsuki could spend hours watching him tinker with the mysterious world which they found themselves in.
“There’s probably some records stored around here— maybe back in that foyer. Wanna go have a look?” He asked.
Akatsuki nodded. Finding information was a key ninja skill, after all.
The foyer was smaller than it first seemed. It took Akatsuki only a few minutes to find a box under the counter; the word “Recordings” hastily scribbled across the lid. She popped it open, eyeing the bright covers inside. Akatsuki didn’t recognise any of the barely-legible names marked on the records. Instead trusting her intuition, she grabbed one and, in a flash, reappeared on the stage.
“That was quick,” Shiroe said, looking up from his tinkering.
“It comes with the whole ‘ninja’ thing, my l—,” Akatsuki cut herself off. She took a breath and tried again.
“I’m a ninja, Shiroe.”
He laughed softly at her attempted save.
“It's ok, Akatsuki. I just don’t think that I’m your lord tonight.”
Akatsuki understood now what people meant when they talked about butterflies in their stomach.
“I… I didn’t recognise the songs, so I just picked one. I hope it’s ok,” she said, more flustered than she had hoped.
“I’m sure it will be fine. I think I have this working,” Shiroe said.
Akatsuki recognised the cue, sliding the record oud of its cover and giving it to Shiroe. He carefully placed it on the spindle, and after pressing a couple of buttons, lowered the needle on to the now-spinning record. A few seconds of quiet scratching echoed around the empty hall, before flowing strings filled the space. Shiroe stood up, looking pleased with himself.
“It’s pretty incredible how we’ve changed this world.”
“I hope it’s been for the better,” Akatsuki said.
Shiroe turned to face her, and once more she found herself enraptured by him. The music suddenly shifted into a mid-tempo melody, spurring Akatsuki into action. It was time to be brave.
“Shiroe, would you like to dance?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied.
Akatsuki discarded her jacket, stepping down off the stage with Shiroe following in suit. She guided him to the middle of the floor, unable help the wide smile spreading across her face. It was really happening. So many times, she had imagined how it would come to be. Daydreams; idealised and discarded in the same moment. It could never be real. And yet, as their hands met and she looked up at him, it was so much more than the dreams ever could be. Shiroe glanced down at his feet, and with a small ‘okay’, led Akatsuki in their first steps.
Dancing with him was perfect. Not in execution; though they moved together far better than their last attempt, there were the missteps to be expected from two ill-practiced in dancing as partners. But with every step, Akatsuki felt Shiroe move in tandem with her; his body warm and close, his grip guiding her and trust flowing in their every shared motion. As they spun across the floor, Akatsuki found her rhythm enough that she could look to his face, meeting his focused gaze with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. As the song continued, his steps too grew more confident; the look on his face shifting into one of clear wonder. The music swelled around them, and Shiroe guided Akatsuki into a flourished spin. The fluttering of her dress was a reminder to thank Lenessia for her wisdom.
Akatsuki finished the spin, and with the final bars of the song closing around them, leaned in to Shiroe. He stiffened for a moment before wrapping his arms around her narrow shoulders. She could hear his heart beating through the fabric of his shirt and Akatsuki felt as if she would explode from the warmth building in her chest. She felt him shift slightly and she glanced upwards.
“Ah— Akatsuki?”
“Yes, Shiroe?”
“I think I’d really like to kiss you now.”
Akatsuki’s heart hammered in her chest as she quickly nodded. He leaned in towards her and she held her breath as his face came closer and closer until his lips met hers; hesitant and curious. Fire burned through her veins— whatever worry she still held stripped away as she pressed into the kiss. It was real and all she could think was to be as close to him as she possibly could. He matched her intensity, running his long fingers through her hair as she clutched his silken shirt. She wanted this moment to last forever. Maybe it did; with them connected through the very fabric of the universe around them.
Eventually, he pulled away, his breathing heavy. Akatsuki felt like she could float away at any moment. She took his hands in her own, just in case she did. When he spoke, his voice was low. Intimate. A shiver ran through Akatsuki at the thought of the word.
“I’m sorry I was so hard to reach this week. I’m not very good at… this. But I know that I need you near me.”
If Akatsuki hadn’t been bright red before, she most definitely was now.
“I was worried that I had overstepped my boundaries, back when you were hit by the hydra,” she admitted. “I shouldn’t be attached to the person I’m protecting.”
“I don’t mean to protect me, Akatsuki. I’m happy to have you as part of the guild, but I want to do more of this,” he said.
“More dancing?”
“Not just dancing;” Shiroe paused. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
“Me neither,” she replied, squeezing his hands and feeling him in turn match the pressure. A clouded worry passed through Akatsuki’s mind, and she frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Shiroe asked, concern flashing across his features.
“It’s just—” Akatsuki sighed. “I like fantasy of being in this world. Being a ninja. And I don’t want this to get in the way of the guild. Besides, I’m so used to calling you my lord now,” she finished, trying for a half-smile after her attempt at a joke.
His face softened, giving her a broad smile.
“Well, whenever you call me Shiroe we’ll know that we have something special,” he replied, the care in his words unmistakable.
“Sounds like a plan,” Akatsuki said. Then, a quick wink. “Shiroe.”
He simply shook his head, leaning in for another kiss. Her lips me his without hesitation. For the first time in days, Akatsuki was truly at peace.