{Fan Fics} Archery Practice, Lute, Prodigies, & Dances and Ball Gowns

[breyzyyin]

Here are four more last-minute entries for zerrat's FFIV MWS-wide request! ♥ XD

Username: Yin (of breyzyyin)
Class: White Mage
Title: Archery Practice
Summary: During their younger days, Kain and Cecil figure out why they should NEVER surprise an archer while she's training.
Characters/Pairings: Rosa, Cecil, Kain, and Joanna. Somewhat implied Rosa x Cecil towards the end of the story.
Word count: 721
Rating/warnings: G. Might contain some slight spoilers for FFIV.

----Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IV or any of the characters from that game. They are the rightful property of Square-Enix.----

The soft plunk of the arrow embedding itself deep into the target sturdily met her ears. Rosa quickly followed it with another arrow, and yet another one. The calluses on her fingers no longer blistering.

“Why are you taking up archery?” her shocked mother had asked when the twelve-year-old girl had first told her about her practices.

"Because Kain and Cecil are in training now. I want to support them. I don’t want to be left behind."

Her secret training spot was located just behind Baron and was littered with arrows, a silent testament to her determination. After hours of target practice, she would collect them all...but the following day the sight would repeat itself.

The repetition, the stillness, the focus...it had become second nature to calm-minded Rosa. The preteen closed her eyes, seeing the target in her head and breathed deeply…

"Here she is!"

Kain’s voice, coming from just beyond the target. Rosa’s aim jerked up as she let the arrow loose, startled by the noise of the abrupt intrusion. There was a thunk and something heavy fell into the underbrush.

"Cecil?!?"

There was surprise and concern in Kain’s voice, and young Rosa near fainted from panic at that point.

*****

Fortunately, Rosa’s mother Joanna was a skilled White Mage.

Cecil was healed in short time, and was resting back in Baron Castle soon enough.

Rosa came to visit him, shame-faced and embarrassed at her accidental blunder.

"I’m so sorry, Cecil..." she began, for what seemed like the eleventh hundred time.

Her pale-haired friend smiled at her, and she was caught off-guard at how kind and almost regal he looked at that instant. It was the first time she’d ever thought of the friend she’d always played with that way, "It was my fault, Rosa. Kain and I shouldn’t have surprised you like that."

A frown, "Even still...I SHOT you!"

He laughed, "And it was a good shot too! Kain and I will have to train even harder to match your proficiency with a bow."

Rosa couldn’t help but smile a little at that, feeling better than she had since the whole ordeal began. The two laughed together softly, unaware of the blushes forming on one another’s cheeks.

Later that night, Rosa asked her mother to start teaching her White Magic.

"What? Archery AND White Magic, Rosa?" Joanna was incredulous. True, she had been a proficient and incredibly capable White Mage many years ago...but her own training had begun in her teenage years. Given Rosa’s young age and how she’d never shown interest in such things yet, it came as a surprise, "Why White Magic now?"

"Because I want to support my friends just like you did for Father, Mother. You were only a little older than I was when you started aiding him in battle, after all." she reminded her.

'...Because I want to be able to heal Cecil myself the next time something happens.'

*****

Kain, on the other hand, couldn’t resist showing his amusement at what had happened for quite awhile afterwards. He was usually very serious and aloof for the most part despite his age, but sometimes around the two of them he displayed a somewhat more humorous side at least.

"Your skill with archery is impressive, Rosa," he once joked, "Perhaps you should train for the Red Wings along with Cecil."

Rosa blushed at this, and Kain raised a blond eyebrow in mild curiosity at her response. The horrified look on Cecil’s face at the joke showcased fairly quickly that he had taken it to be more serious than it was and not meant for jest.

"Kain! Rosa wouldn’t want to...and besides, archers aren’t allowed in the Red Wings! It’s against protocol."

Kain’s face turned slightly red at this and he turned his head away, his body shaking slightly with suppressed mirth.

"Kain...quit laughing already!"

...Having just figured it all out, Cecil was red in the face with helpless indignation and embarrassment as well. Rosa couldn’t help but giggle playfully at their dynamic.

It wasn’t long after Cecil’s embarrassment subsided that all three friends were back to laughing together--the day when Rosa decided to first learn White Magic and the day both boys learned to never surprise her when she was practicing archery forever cemented as an amusingly humorous memory in their childhood friendship together.

-----

Username: Yin (of breyzyyin)
Class: White Mage
Title: Lute
Summary: While recovering from his injuries in Troia, Edward receives a visit from a rather eccentric fellow bard. Evolves into an Edge and Edward friendship fic by the very end as well.
Characters/Pairings: Edward and Edge from FFIV. Mentions of Cecil, Golbez, Anna, Tellah, Yang, and Rydia from that game as well. Ramin and Hotupa from Suikoden Tierkreis. Mentions of Sieg, Sisuca ("the den-mother"), and Nemne ("the Porpos-kin") from that game as well.
Notes: Inspired by a conversation between the_404_error and Breyzy about how interesting it would be for Ramin and Edward to interact (yep, it was awhile ago...I finally got the time to write this story idea down! Thank you both for the idea! ♥)! XD You don't really need to know anything about Suikoden Tierkreis to read this fic since that isn't really the main focus of the plot. "The Infinity" is a multi-verse concept of a seemingly infinite number of universes connected together through Gateways (it was introduced in the "main" series of Suikoden briefly, but became much more prevalent in the two recent spin-off games...to VERY heated controversy in the fandom XD). Also, Ramin is very much INSANE and that's kind of what makes him really fun and entertaining! ♥ XD His music causes people to become hostile and go berserk...which is what happens in this fic. But...that's pretty much all you really need to know about Tierkreis to be able to understand this story! :D This is my first crossover fic for FF, so I hope it isn't too horrible. XD
Word count: 2,117
Rating/warnings: G. Might contain some spoilers for FFIV and possibly Suikoden Tierkreis.

----Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IV or any of the characters from that game. They are the rightful property of Square-Enix. I don't own Suikoden Tierkreis or any of the characters from that game either. They are the rightful property of Konami.----

The light streaming in through the windows of the infirmary was turning gray, casting deeper and deeper shadows over the floor.

"Well, then...good night, Prince Edward."

"And to you as well."

Footsteps echoed on the floor. He heard the door of the infirmary far removed from his line of vision close shut as the Troian healers left for the evening. Their muffled voices carried through the stone walls briefly before being swallowed by the night. Only stillness and silence remained, punctuated briefly every so often by the quiet chirping of insects outside.

Edward Chris von Muir sat upright in his bed, closing his eyes in quiet contemplations. The polite, soft smile that had been on his lips in the presence of his caretakers quickly faded. The Troians had been remarkably kind and supportive of him during his recovery, how could he not be brave and smile in their presence given how they’d been so concerned for an injured stranger such as himself? Now that they were gone, there was much to think on and none of it all too pleasant. His heart was heavy.

His beloved Anna was dead. As were his parents...his kingdom of Damcyan turn to rubble and its survivors scattered. Anna’s father, the Great Sage Tellah, was gone now too…a victim of his own fiery brand of vengeance. And Yang was grievously injured as well, somewhere in the Underworld where the Dwarves dwelt.

...His friends and allies were fighting to save the world from Golbez’s machinations. And all he could do was sit here and heal, mildly offering his support. It was enough to make him want to cry out at the feeling of helplessness just as he did after losing his kingdom and Anna all over again.

But that wouldn’t help anything, he knew. All he could do at this point was continue to offer his support.

Absentmindedly, his fingers went to the harp that constantly sat on his lap. He began strumming a familiar Damcyan melody that had always comforted him as a child...his fingers lightly crossing over the instrument’s strings unconsciously--the song wafting through the air at an unhurried pace.

A lullaby for someone clearly not going to get any rest at night again.

“Not a bad tune, not a bad tune...but COME ON! As if you’d be able to move the low-born rabble with such a simple melody.”

The unknown voice that spoke so loudly and quite critically came from the very foot of his bed. He started, having not heard the door to the infirmary open.

Standing there was an unusually dressed, haughty-looking young man. His colorful clothing of reds, whites, blues, and browns almost reminded him of Damcyan desert-garb, but his were decidedly louder in their patterns and swatches of vibrant color. Silver, piercing eyes stared at him in an assessing fashion...his hands crossed over his chest with his lips forming into a knowing, arrogant smirk. Pale, silver-colored hair that reminded the blond bard vaguely of Cecil was pulled up carelessly under a feathered beret atop his head. A lute was slung over the young man’s shoulder.

"...Who are you?" he was fairly certain that he had become acquainted with every resident of Troia Castle by now. This obtrusive newcomer was not someone he recognized. ...A fellow bard given his attire, perhaps? His appearance and demeanor did not seem to fit with his association with Troia hospitality at all.

The haughty expression transformed into an open grin, "I am Ramin...the greatest Bard in all of the expanses of the Infinity--who now travels the worlds to share with and inspire the mindless rabble with his art."

His introduction did not help things. Edward blinked in confusion, "...The Infinity? Worlds?" he repeated.

Clearly, whoever this minstrel was...he spoke as if his brains were addled. Perhaps he was a newcomer to the infirmary after all. Edward tried glancing past him to see if one of the healers had also returned.

Ramin waved off his questions with a careless, impatient shrug, "Terminology someone who isn’t aware of the Infinity to begin with couldn’t even begin to understand...no matter how clearly talented and creatively intellectual they happen to be."

He raised a blond eyebrow at that, clearly getting the impression that he’d been simultaneously praised and called stupid at the same time. He wondered how the best way to politely get a brain-addled stranger to leave him alone was.

The self-proclaimed greatest bard was oblivious to Edward’s growing discomfort, however, and carried on, "Though your song lacked inspirational fervor...you executed it perfectly. You are not a bard without skill or talent." He glanced at Edward as if he’d just delved him a rare and wondrous compliment, and now expected some kind of grateful recognition of that fact.

When none was forthcoming, he continued, "You should be honored: the only others in our profession I’ve deigned to acknowledge so are the den-mother and a certain Porpos-kin of my own world...and they’re both songstresses. They do not have the knowledge to understand the delicacies involved with precise instrumentation."

"...Thank you?" he had no idea who the youth was referring to. Clearly, he was a confused foreigner of some kind or just delusional. Edward decided there was a strong possibility of both.

"And since you have demonstrated an ability only a few shades lower than my own..." at this Ramin grinned, his lute suddenly in hand, "I will let you listen to a song that will truly ignite the ignorant masses into a frenzy!"

Before Edward could warn him to keep his noise soft due to the lateness of the hour...a raucous tune sprang forth from Ramin’s fingertips. It was fast-paced and moving, each pluck of the strings done with focused precision and a deliberate motion.

Ramin’s eyes gleamed, and his smile seemed manic as he laughed over the din of his fiery music, "You hear it, don’t you? THIS is music to make the rabble’s blood boil. To make the low-borns DANCE!"

And Edward did hear it. His pulse quickened and before he knew it…he was seeing red and nothing else, the music seeping into his very being.

Something touched his shoulder and his hands, already clenched tightly into fists for who knew how long...reacted instantaneously with the contact.

His hand crashed into something hard and solid, and he felt nothing but the rush of the blood thrumming in his veins and an intense rage.

"OW! What are you on?!?"

Edward blinked, the pulsating music fading from his ears and his being as if it hadn’t made so quick or so deep an impression on him at all.

The only person standing before him was Edge, the Ninja Prince of Eblan and a new comrade in Cecil’s battle. And he was trying desperately to stop the bleeding coming from his nose now due to Edward’s well-placed fist.

Edward blinked in stunned silence. Ramin was nowhere to be found.

*****

"Unhand me, low-born!"

Hotupa did not release his death-grip on the back of Ramin’s shirt despite his thrashing. The normally pleasant and friendly heavy-set man had a tired, somewhat aggravated look in his eyes as he peered down at the troublesome bard from behind his glasses as they traversed through the Corridor back to the headquarters of the Company.

"...Seriously, Ramin, what are we going to do with you? You know you aren’t supposed to travel the Infinity on your own--especially Worlds that us Wanderers don’t even know about yet. And you‘re definitely not supposed to break away and travel through Gateways on your own when nothing‘s been decided yet by the rest of the party!"

A scoff from the disgraced form in front of him. At least Ramin had stopped struggling so much and seemed to be suffering his new indignation in sulking silence.

"Since when do I care for low-born rules when I have an opportunity to spread my music to the masses?"

...Well, he’d had about two seconds of silence there. With Ramin, you often had to take what you could get.

"Right." Hotupa sighed, "Let’s not forget that your particular music is likely to cause concussions and instigate wars."

"It’s a small price to pay to feel truly alive! To dance!" Ramin was indignant still, but held his head up proudly, "A fellow minstrel needed inspiration. I was only offering my expert insight."

"Insight." Hotupa repeated the word and tried his hardest not to roll his eyes, "Let’s call it that for now, at least."

The bard grinned, "I think that fellow will truly end up educating the masses one day...you’ll see. All of the low-borns of that world will start to DANCE once more! I just helped ignite his spark again."

"Sieg is not going to like this..."

"I’m always amused at just how quickly word of my exploits and artistic endeavors can make his face as red as my music can!" Ramin laughed at the mention of their Company’s young leader, "...Just like yours is turning now, low-born!"

Hotupa sighed again, willing his mind to return to the happy place he had to invent recently whenever he dealt with the more "eccentric" of their Company members, such as their resident minstrel currently still squirming in his grip. He’d let Sieg handle Ramin when they got back--he was pretty good at yelling at him exasperatedly now...and, as much as he’d hate admitting it to Ramin, Sieg’s reactions sometimes to the musician’s antics were somewhat entertaining at the very least.

...Though that could just be coming from a "better him having to deal with it than me" perspective on Hotupa‘s end, admittedly.

He just hoped that Ramin’s influence on this particular World he’d sneaked off to wouldn’t be too damaging.

*****

"Seriously, man, what gives? We just got in to Troia late and I told Rydia I’d check up on you. Then I heard all that weird music...but I really wasn’t expecting to get punched in the face for being nice!"

Edge glared at Edward accusingly as the bard hastily applied another kerchief to his bleeding nose, "And you’re even talking about imaginary friends too...Troian medicine must be potent!"

Edward’s face was red with embarrassment. He truly felt horrible, "I’m...I’m really sorry..." he muttered lamely, for what was perhaps the fiftieth time that night.

The ninja waved him off, "...It’s okay. You were probably having a nightmare or something, all things considered." his tone was gruff, but oddly kind given what had just happened to him.

"Y-yes..." he couldn’t think of anything else to say, and stared at his hands.

From his position with his head propped up, Edge stared at Edward from above the blood-stained linen pinching his nose.

"...You’ve got a mean hook though, I’ll give you that." he said approvingly, "It’s good to see you feeling better."

Edward blinked. Oddly enough, he did feel a bit more energy now--stronger in a cathartic sense.

"You...might be right." he smiled softly, looking apologetically at Edge, "Still...I’m truly sorry, Edge. I shouldn’t have hit someone, regardless."

"It’s okay. Being cooped up in a place like this without any way to get out can do something to a guy. Makes them restless." He sounded like he was talking from experience, but Edward didn’t want to pry due the painful-tinge he had just picked up in the fellow prince’s voice.

But Edge quickly seemed to shake whatever sad memories he’d just recalled from his head and glanced back at Edward, grinning.

"...But if you STILL feel bad about clocking me like you did, how about you perform at me and Rydia’s wedding later to make up for it?" he joked.

Edward’s face turned red at this and he lowered his head, putting his hands over it.

"Ye--yes, I’ll do that then!" he managed to somehow mumble through his fingers.

The Prince of Eblan playfully glared at Edward, "...Are you laughing at me?" but there was a tinge of humor in his tone now, "It could totally happen!"

"Yes, there’s always room for wishful thinking, I suppose."

"Ouch. That’s cold, man. I liked it better when you had just punched me."

The two laughed louder at this, the strange incident with the mysterious Ramin all but forgotten momentarily from Edward’s mind.

Surprisingly, Edge had stuck around for a long time afterwards asking questions on what possible assistances Edward thought Damcyan might need in way of rebuilding in the future.

Later on though, when he was by himself once more...his fingers strummed a tune he wasn’t at all accustomed to playing on the strings of his harp. And while he didn’t see red again or feel his blood boil once more, the memory made Edward’s lips curve somewhat into a rather playful smile all the same.

-----

Username: Yin (of breyzyyin)
Class: White Mage
Title: Prodigies
Summary: The Elder of Mysidia reflects on Palom and Porom (the first half is set before the first FFIV, the second half is set after The After Years).
Characters/Pairings: The Elder, Palom, and Porom. Leonora, Tsukinowa, and Tellah are also mentioned.
Word count: 550
Rating/warnings: G. Might contain some slight spoilers for FFIV and FFIV: The After Years.

----Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IV, FFIV: The After Years, or any of the characters from those games. They are the rightful property of Square-Enix.----

1.

The twins were the magical prodigies of Mysidia. Even at an incredibly early age, their proficiency with spell-casting was truly remarkable and very commendable. The potential the two had was astounding, especially if they were diligent in their training.

Everyone had great expectations for Palom and Porom, most of all the Elder.

He was going through a detailed lesson with them, years more advanced than the magical lessons that the other children their age were learning in the village. His back turned as he sketched a diagram out on the board with chalk.

He smelt the smoke first, the acrid tang of something burning wafting through the air.

"Palom!" a smack quickly followed Porom’s vocal admonishment, "We aren’t supposed to set our chairs on fire!"

"But this is boring! Who needs to learn how to cast Cura when you can just blow a monster to smithereens?" Palom was just as vocal in his reasoning for his actions, "I’m only putting the lessons to practical use!"

Another smack. The two began yelling heatedly back and forth at one another.

The Elder sighed and closed his eyes.

...Prodigies they might be, but Palom and Porom’s lessons were always as exhausting on his ancient body as they could be exhilarating for his spirit.

*****

2.

The Elder closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers over his tired brow.

Leonora was now continuing her training with Palom in order to become a Sage, and he had to write an apology to the Epopts.

...But it kept dialogue open between Mysidia and Troia, he supposed.

And a certain Eblan ninja had evidently taken his king’s antics to heart, and he no longer visited here just in frog form. He could hear Tsukinowa and Porom’s voices drifting into the house from where they sat on the steps in pleasant conversation with one another. This was the twelfth visit from him in slightly over three months.

...But he supposed it helped to improve relations with Eblan in a way, given the amusement he often seemed to catch between the lines in correspondence with King Edge.

'Ah, to be young...right, Tellah?'

As expected, there was no forthcoming answer, though he could clearly picture his friend smiling all the same in response somehow.

Palom and Porom both seemed content and more engaged in the events of Mysidia now. And they’d helped to save the world twice already in their young lives.

He sighed, amazed that they could remain so involved when he was tiring more and more with each passing year. He still hadn’t fully recovered enough from his injuries to leave his bedside for long periods of time.

The decision he’d been quietly contemplating for quite some time now seemed to have answered itself in the actions of the two young mages.

The Elder recalled their rambunctious younger days and smiled somewhat, proud of the growth they displayed despite the occasional hiccups along the way. They made both him and Mysidia proud alike.

'....Prodigies, indeed.'

The Elder chuckled. Though his body was tired and brittle now, and he could no longer keep up with the twins...his spirit was excited to see and think upon the possibilities that the future had in store for them.

He knew the two new Elders of Mysidia would continue to make their village proud.

-----

Username: Yin (of breyzyyin)
Class: White Mage
Title: Dances and Ball Gowns
Summary: Edge and Rosa have a bit too much fun "planning" a special security mission for Kain. He feels very awkward, embarrassed, and out-of-sorts by the whole ordeal.
Characters/Pairings: Kain and Izayoi. Edge, Rosa, Cecil, Ceodore, and the other members of the Eblan Four are also mentioned. No pairing, though it evolves into an odd friendship/comrade-in-arms bonding story between Kain and Izayoi by the end.
Word count: 1,412
Rating/warnings: G (PG for one small innuendo). Might contain some slight spoilers for FFIV: The After Years.

----Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IV: The After Years or any of the characters from that game. They are the rightful property of Square-Enix.----

The sounds of laughter and ballroom music echoed up from the grand chamber below. The event, a celebration of the world being saved yet again with important figures from all of the kingdoms in attendance, seemed to be a rousing success. From the din of noises he could tell that the event was very well-attended.

...That only added to his discomfort, however. The Holy Dragoon shifted uncomfortably where he stood in swishing lace and satin in all shades of pink no less! He tried focusing all of his attention on the window showcasing a beautiful view of the night sky.

...Were he anywhere else but here right now. He closed his eyes and imagined the starry sky over Mount Ordeals and let out a sigh.

Not for the first time this evening, he cursed Cecil for coming up with the banquet idea...even if the concept was a symbolically sound one.

"...That was an uncharacteristic sound coming from you."

The feminine voice that addressed him was spoken in quick, clipped tones.

He turned his head slightly, the door shutting firmly behind the newcomer. He knew how stealthy she was and wasn’t surprised he hadn’t heard the door open...she only made the door closing audible now because she had allowed him to be aware of her presence.

Izayoi of the Eblan Four, allies he was acquainted with after recent events but only really on cordial greeting terms with, looked resplendent, he had to own. Gone were the distinct makeup and jewelry that marked her as being from Eblan, and her traditional kunoichi garb was removed in favor of a flowing ball gown of eye-catching swatches of purple and blue silk in various shades.

She moved across the room to where he stood in a fluid motion that surprised him and made him somewhat envious now after his laughable attempts at wearing heels earlier...and he knew she could move just as gracefully and effortlessly as she always did should the need arise despite what he felt were the somewhat constricting limitations of the Baron-designed ball gown.

She raised an eyebrow in mild amusement at his appraisal, "...One really shouldn’t judge someone else for their appearance when dressed so similarly."

He felt his cheeks redden slightly at her not-so-subtle reminder of his current predicament, "My apologies," he mumbled, "I was just surprised at how adept the transformation is. You look exactly as a Baron noblewoman would."

"Hmm." Izayoi tossed the plaited braid of dark hair that had been hanging over her right shoulder carelessly with a flick of her wrist. For the first time, he realized that it had been strung and interwoven with small strands of pearl--much like his own had, "Kunoichi are expert spies and information-gatherers. As such, we must be able to best adapt ourselves to any situation we find ourselves in."

"...I see." Not for the first time, he found himself rather impressed with Edge’s students. The cheeky, over-confident Ninja Prince he used to know had transformed into a very efficient and capable leader in his own right.

"...Queen Rosa did help a bit with the hair, however." Izayoi continued, smiling thinly, "I think she enjoyed the idea of helping to play dress-up quite a lot."

Unconsciously, Kain’s hand went up to touch his own hair...braided and beaded in a similar fashion to Izayoi’s. The playful, amused glimmer he had seen in Rosa’s face after she’d shown him her work still surprised him somewhat. He wondered if Cecil and Ceodore had also had to experience events such as that.

"...It helps to make the cover story that we’re cousins visiting from a rural area more believable." Izayoi said in way of explanation, noting the almost troubled expression forming on Kain’s face at the memory.

"...I suppose so."

Kain was truly grateful still that only Cecil, Rosa, Edge, and Edge's apprentices knew of this "transformation" all the same. The other Red Wings were on patrol themselves, and Ceodore was given the night off to act as Baron’s prince for the guests...it would have been mortifying for any of them to recognize him dressed as he was.

"Are we on then?" he asked, trying to keep his humiliation in check by maintaining a strict sense of duty-bound protocol.

"Almost." Izayoi reached into the folds of her silks and procured a large diamond choker. She let it dangle from her fingertips as she stared at him blankly, gauging his reaction, "This is to cover your Adam’s Apple."

His face was turning red for the hundredth time throughout this ordeal, he nodded mutely. Izayoi leaned in close and wrapped the thick black cord around his neck, her demeanor professional despite how odd this situation felt to him.

"Have there been any signs of hostility yet?" he was surprised at how he managed to keep his composure...standing there in a pink ball gown, bedecked with fancy jewelry, his long blond hair braided and beaded--letting someone tie a choker around his neck.

A shake of her head. The choker was placed tightly in its concealing location and she stepped back, "Not yet. But any hostilities will probably happen late when everyone’s been lulled into a sense of relaxation."

He nodded, impressed by her astute logic and tactical observation, "The note was vague, so it could be little more than idle threats...but it’s always best to err on the side of caution."

"...Even if it means dressing up like the object of desire for every eligible bachelor aiming to steal the virtue of a beautiful flower in the room."

Her face remained expressionless, but Kain could tell by the lilt in her voice that the kunoichi was poking fun at him. He arched an eyebrow, and was mildly amused when she mimicked the motion back at him.

"...Do you have a weapon on you?" he finally asked, ignoring the joking moment altogether.

"Several. Very much concealed but all readily available should I need them." Izayoi jutted her chin out proudly, "I’m a ninja first and a woman second. That doesn’t change no matter what guise I’m wearing."

He nodded, "It is the same for me. I am a Dragoon and Red Wing in the service of Baron first and a..."

Izayoi couldn’t help but grin when Kain stopped himself from completing his mistake and finishing that sentence exactly as she did. Thankfully, she had enough tact to not mention it directly and helped him save some face, "And you? Are you appropriately armed as well?" she asked.

A curt, grateful nod, "I have a sword and dagger hidden under my skirts." the phrase seemed odd, but he ignored it, "It’s unfortunate that I cannot conceal a spear though."

"...I think there’s one spear you’ve concealed fairly well." Izayoi joked in a wry tone.

Never had Kain felt more uncomfortable than he did just now, "...You’re clearly enjoying this."

A playful shrug, "Perhaps His Highness’ sense of humor has rubbed off on me." she patted Kain’s shoulder consolingly, "Don’t worry, though...I promise you that he has sworn not to tease you too much about this afterwards."

'No, I am sure he had his fill of laughter when this idea was first proposed.' he thought.

"...Besides, I’m adept at concealing myself. Stay close and follow my lead, you should have no troubles." she paused, glancing down at the pink slippers he was wearing on his feet…visible just under the hem of his flowing skirts, "...Definitely not nearly as much difficulty as you had with those heels earlier, at any rate."

His face turned totally red at that. Master of the skies he might be, but wearing inch-high heels earlier during dance rehearsals (Edge and Rosa’s conspiratorial idea, no doubt) had sent him sprawling to the floor in his petticoat and underskirt in two seconds flat.

A lone firework exploded in the sky just a few feet from the window--showering the dark with golden sparks.

"The signal." Izayoi announced, turning to the door.

The two started to walk, and just before opening the door, Izayoi proffered her arm out to Kain. She smiled in conspiratorial amusement as he reluctantly looped his arm through hers in the manner he had sometimes seen young girls doing as friends gossiping together in the halls with their heads close together.

"...Save me a dance, 'cousin'?" she joked.

Despite himself, Kain couldn’t help but smile embarrassedly in return, "Well...I’m certainly not going to be dancing with any eligible bachelors aiming to steal my virtue tonight, am I?"