an empty white throne;

|| an empty white throne; priv. azura from fe14: conquest | golden deer faculty

[aquaatics]

aquatic [ adjective ] - frequenting water. growing up in water. breathing and living water. eventually, becoming water as part of your sacrifice to the family you helped betray. how lucky, then, that water is eternal; how lucky that you were awarded another chance. how lucky that your mistakes, your pitfalls, your betrayals follow you, too.

closed rp blog for azura from fe: fates / fe14 (conquest). ➥ nav: muse | mun | trackers | affiliation ➥ run by blue (21+, any prns, EST, @stormofembla / @corvusi) ➥ additional notes below!

➥ this portrayal of azura will draw from her conquest route.

➥ my default for all supports will be c- / no support. i'd prefer to have her develop supports through the TOA setting, but i am flexible on this: thus, if azura is threading with a fates muse (from either path), i'll reach out to confirm supports prior to writing.

➥ in her interview, azura threw away her pendant after it travelled with her to fódlan. consequently, azura can no longer do any water magic (for lack of a better descriptor) with her song. your muse, if from fates, may notice she doesn't have the pendant anymore, and if particularly attuned, may notice that her song doesn't have the same power anymore, even if still lovely.

i am not currently interested in having a muse 'find' her pendant or even offer to look. azura will shut it down fast, and i will shut it down even faster — tbd on when this will change, but i wish for this to be a narrative beat i can explore in the future.

[fiercerival]

𖤓 even the thorn in your heart may become a rose

☾ infamous non-mission prompt ── shall we dance? ☽

[fiercerival]

This schuol ( church school ) just gets more and more baffling by the day. Not only do they have mock-war battles, they also hold some sort of dance contest... for some reason?? The more Selena learns the less she understands. Whatever, she just needed to supervise it- she thinks. The instructions were not very clear, truth be told. But it's not like the redhead needs that information since she cannot audition- not that she wants to! Just that staff were not allowed to enter ( obviously ).

Speaking of the staff- who all are in charge of this little event anyway? Or, was it just a free-for-all in terms of who was lending a hand? Sure she knew how to organize an army and weapons stash, but a dance competition? How in the world.. even if she is technically faculty, she isn't cut out for this-----------

IS WHAT SHE'D SAY IF SHE WERE A QUITTER!! MOMMA AIN'T RAISED NO QUITTER! So it is no surprise that Selena strides down to the ballroom to get a jump start on this new assignment. She does need to work to get paid ( and buy those cute pillows she saw at the shop the other day ).

What she comes across does not come as much of a shock to her, and a soft warmth of familiarity settles in her chest. Even if they weren't intimately familiar, having fought side by side in a war bonds you in ways unimaginable- unreplicable. But, that's not important right now. Right now, she's more interested in why the woman was ( seemingly ) alone.

❛ You know, you really need to find another hobby. Surely you have other interests than only performing arts, yeah? ❜

The redhead calls out, a hand on her hip as she makes her own grand entrance before giving a brief glance around the hall.

❛ What are you even doing in here? Trying to get set up for students to audition, or something? ❜

who are you again? and what are you doing here @aquaatics?

[aquaatics]

She is in the midst of a step when a voice interrupts her. Arms still raised in the air, curved gracefully like a crane taking flight, she turns her head toward the entrance of the ballroom — and as processing slowly seeps in, she lets her posture relax and laughs.

It's the undeniable energy of Selena. A brief reminder of home and familiarity where she had believed there was none — so despite what others would see as insulting, Azura only takes endearment.

"Song is the most enjoyable... hobby." The fact that it can be alluded to mere hobby now feels foreign, clunky to admit; but through the weight in her tongue, she still smiles. "Dance is a close second. So," a tap of her chin, "perhaps you're right. Maybe I do need more interests, hm?"

She takes a few steps closer, gliding across the ballroom floor. "But not today; I've been hearing much about the White Heron Cup. I'd be interested in partaking, so I figured I would at least practice before auditions started soon." Golden eyes are alight in the warmth of the ballroom as she extends a hand. "If you would care to join me, Selena? Regardless of whether you consider auditioning, I would always appreciate more company in this stillness."

[mercenarymage]

[ SPILL ] She squeaks when she bumps into someone — and everywhere her drink goes, splashing both of them. Her eyes go wide. "I'm sorry! Luckily, all that was in that cup was water, but," laughter, "it isn't ideal, regardless."

The squeak that Azura makes is matched with a yelp from Hugh. Given the crowds and the darkness, maybe he should have expected something like this to happen. And maybe he did, just, not to him!

Fortunately, the outfit he wears is fairly dark. It'll be annoying to dry off, but nothing's ruined. The fact that its only water helps, too.

So, in the end, he ends up laughing with her. "Who's idea was it to provide drinks after the lights went down?" He jokes a little with her. "Man, I should've brought the torch staff. I could dry everything way faster that way."

But he doesn't have it with him, so he ends up searching for the next best thing. Plenty of napkins and the like are nearby the refreshments, so it's easy for him to grab some for him and Azura.

"Here," he says, handing a few over to her. "If you need it, there's some seating over there, too."

[aquaatics]

"Oh, there's no need. Thank you for the napkins." She takes the pile from his hand and starts to dab away at her own dress.

It certainly could have been worse — Azura stifles a frown at the thought of something staining like coffee or tea — so at the end of it all, she smiles. "You're right, though. Who thought that this was a good idea? Although, I'd think they wouldn't want us to have fire, either — did you hear about the fire that happened around the corn station? I wouldn't be surprised if they forbade any form of fire magic in the future."

When her dress is close to good enough, she holds out a hand with her wad of wet napkins toward Hugh, gesturing to his own napkins. "Here. I can dispose of our wipes. And again, as my apologies," a rustle, "please take an orchid in return."

[landsbluod]

alors on danse

Ethereal Ball 2026 - White Heron Cup - Match 5

[landsbluod]

"Ready?"

Lachesis reached for her partner's hand with a smile, a freer and more open gesture than she felt she had made in some time. There were few people she thought perhaps to trust with an endeavor like this - it was not that she had known Lady Azura for a terribly long time, or even through trials of duress, but there was a composure and certainty to the other woman that she found comforting with regard to the presence of a stage, and the eyes that came with it.

"Perhaps it was for the good that we practiced earlier." She couldn't admit to feeling a wavering, but the evening had taught her a few things - namely, that while she was in her element with these sorts of social situations, that the element of the thing itself had changed, and that the time she had lost was all the more apparent.

When she squeezed Azura's hand, gently, it was just as much for her own sake as for her partner's.

Gold eyes scanned the crowd as formations of couples and lone dancers began to form and group, and when she saw Finn her gaze creased a bit at the corners, thankful that he could see, as he had wanted, movement and life.

The crease softened bit by bit as he approached further, and her brow pinched in confusion when not only did he not divert his path, but when he - and his partner?? - halted beside them.

"Finn, what are - ?"

The brass brightened, and her grip tightened on Azura's - not panic, but thrown off, the steps now coming by rote rather than from the heart.

@aquaatics

[aquaatics]

Her response — a quiet of course — was lost to Lady Lachesis' recognition, and her attention flickered over to the pair next to them, trailing behind Lachesis' gaze. A blue-haired man, a woman with a pair of bunny ears, one of whom claimed the name Finn; but the sudden stiffness it created in Lachesis' dance was undeniable.

What was it from? What was the connection?

Her steps faltered as she tripped over her own partner's shoe, attention drawn too far away for her to be cognizant of her own footwork. "Oh, my apologies," she murmured, head snapping back. Then, laughter as they fell back into time, as she reassured herself and her partner, "Imperfection is sometimes needed to make a performance feel human, don't you think?"

But what was the connection? A person that Lady Lachesis knew to some capacity, someone who she wasn't expecting — perhaps a friend, family, or an enemy; and understanding dawned on Azura's gaze. Just as Azura did by partaking in the Cup, perhaps it would help for Lachesis to forget briefly about the past that followed her, too. Performance was never easy when a cloud lingered above one's head, so Azura needed to pull Lachesis away: not for the competition, but because they both deserved to enjoy this moment without ghosts interfering.

So, a change in their steps it was. "Would you mind following me here?" — and Azura swept her arm into the air to pull Lachesis into a spin, before pivoting them to leave Lachesis' back facing the other duo. A little sloppy, a little strange, but they regained their rhythm eventually, and Azura gave a small smile in hopes of returning warmth where it had been lost.

"A lovely spin, Lady Lachesis — you are a natural."

lachesis & azura — average of 11.5. @sacrificialspear & @estelular

[aquaatics]

"I see." — but her answers answer little, if not raise more questions. Azura hums softly to herself as the music stars to slow, and alongside it, their steps. As the distant rush of a harp draws the song into silence, Azura manages a smile and slides herself into a deep bow.

If Azama knows something, if Azama is here...

Always more questions; never any answers. Life and time are both too strange of concepts for Azura to not linger on the thought, but the girl's disinterest and redirection is noted. An orchid — pink, just like her — is handed over in two outstretched hands.

"In that case," she murmurs, "thank you kindly for the dance."

[verseandrhyme]

At least politeness persists, regardless of the historical differences. Mitama makes her way through the final steps she can remember as best as she can before their dance comes to a close. She bows politely to Azura before taking the orchid in return for one of her lilies.

"Thank you." Pink is lost in a sea of pink, but at least the different petals make for a lovely addition. "I am not much of a fan of dancing." At least, not with her. "But this was very informative as an experience. Thank you."

With all the necessities done, she is quick to leave the dance floor. Quicker, perhaps, than she had moved through the entirety of the dance. Her smile fades as worry begins to pull her expression to a frown.

Will what this Azura knows hurt Shigure, she wonders.

end

[aquaatics]

every time you remember me

shigure & azura | toaball2026; continued from here

[pastbelow]

...

...

azura is watching.

the realization sinks into him as soon as she steps out of line. for though they both know how to veil their emotions with laughter and song, this dance, of all the ones on offer tonight, calls for complete honesty. in the same breath as his realization, however, he forgives her, lets it go---because the mother he remembers had also never been afraid to look, to stare into the depths and wait for them to gaze back.

hadn't it been shigure, instead, who was afraid? watching mother stand by the precipice, knowing she must eventually fall? now, he spins azura away from him, searching for a sliver of crumbling resolve.

what's important now is that he mustn't let it show, not to this woman, who had already suffered so much cruelty. she cannot know that those same depths had eventually claimed him, too. her words settle it in stone, renders the fact as clear as shattering glass----that she is not the mother he had loved, but she is still a woman who loves him.

so though he doesn't believe her words, can't imagine any version of himself that truly would, he lets his smile fall as he knows it ought to. "I... thank you, mother. I can't say it's been easy, but I've missed you a great deal."

clasping her hands as the music draws to a close, he asks, eyes still closed, "would you like to join me for one more dance?"

[aquaatics]

his smile falls, and so too does hers. shigure has grown up to carry a strength that he should have never needed, a strength that azura had never wanted to pass on in death. she looks down at their hands as dance crawls to a still, and forces light into a fallen gaze.

"i know," she acknowledges, murmured under her breath. then, quieter, with a squeeze of his hands ( perhaps even unspoken, with how the words snag sharply in the back of her pained throat ): "i'm... proud of you — and i would love nothing more than another dance."

the chatter has bloomed around them again in place of the ended waltz, but they stand still in the center of the ballroom floor. azura takes a deep breath, reaching for a stem — smile, smile, — and then forces a small laugh. "although," she lilts, "you can open your eyes now, shigure."

and if he does, he'll see that azura isn't looking into his eyes. her attention is on his shirt as she tries to tuck an orchid in the small crevice between two buttons. but her hands are unsteady as they try, the tremble in the flower reflected in eyes that are glassier than she'd like.

still, she performs: a reassured smile, a soft giggle as the orchid droops in his shirt. my promise, she looks back up, eyes now alight, that i'll never go again.

thread completed.

[aquaatics]

[ REQUEST ] - At the top of every hour, the band allows for any guest to come up and make specific requests, and for the extra bold, to sing and perform right along with them as your backup! Take the stage and belt your heart out or, for the more devious, pressure a friend to become the star of everyone’s next dance!

(omg i can't remember if i sent this or not please disregard if i did I DON'T HAVE OUTBOX)

"Oh, what's stopping you from going up there?" Azura laughs, tucking her orchid into the band on Corrin's waist — a pop of saturated lavender against white. "You have a lovely voice yourself. And if you desire, we can both go—"

There is no going anymore, because two individuals hop up onto the stage — someone dragging a rather reluctant someone-else into the limelight. Parchment is passed around, and there's a knowing glance exchanged between the musicians as they start to play. It seems that there is immediate familiarity among the audience with the first few notes, but Azura only blinks in blank confusion as the blue-haired man starts to sing.

"I know, thou wantest me to stay…"

...It's a lovely song. The duet's voices are smooth against the playful backdrop of instruments, and Azura manages a soft smile as she turns toward Corrin. "So what do you say? We can go right after them together, too."

[aquaatics]

[ CHAOS ] - A dance that is difficult to define by virtue of its nature as a medley of popular dance moves across history that somehow come together to form an entertaining, if chaotic, whole.

A torrent of instruments collide to create disjointed form. Themes, both familiar and not, claw at the soundscape as they emerge for fleeting moments, before being swept up by the wash of music and left to oblivion in the backdrop. And just as the music itself is incomprehensible at first glance, so too is the dance.

Who leads, who follows? Azura at some point, her blue-haired partner at another, neither, and both. Steps collide as they step down onto the marble tile, shoes clipping away like a spiraling metronome with the ramping beat. Hands reach for each other; shoulders brush past; bodies meld and liquify until pairs are nearly indistinguishable from each other in the blur of colors.

But even in chaos, there is order. Azura is careful not to step on his toes. Their hands make contact and clasp onto each other despite the rush of movement. Amidst the tremble of strings and the rush of woodwinds, there is still logical sense behind the shifting tempo and key of song.

As dance comes to a close, the breathless Azura smiles and extends an orchid. "That was wonderful," she remarks. "Thank you for the dance."

[aquaatics]

[ HOSHIDO ] - A synchronized dance that must be done by two people. To a slow and gentle melody, the pair moves with fluid purpose, evoking the image of a crane in flight.

"Lady Celine, you look absolutely beautiful tonight." Azura bows her head as she extends an orchid toward the other woman. Her smile is small, polite as the familiar chime of bells begins to fall into a steady, tranquil rhythm. "May I please have this dance with you?"

( Please, she thinks, because when the strings swell with the crane's takeoff, Azura looks up always to see a reminder of her past and stutters as Hoshido slips further away from her grip. A crane that takes off and knows it will not return — and the rest of the song dissolves into static as she moves through the rest of the dance with clipped wings.

But with a new face, with the intention to show off home and clutch it as close to her chest as it will allow her to before reality settles in again— )

As Celine takes her hand alongside the flower, her eyes gleam — with joy, with underlying relief. Quietly, as they drift to the center of the ballroom, she murmurs, "Thank you."

Azura will no longer be accepting [ HOSHIDO ] as a prompt.

[aquaatics]

[ SHAVED ICE ] "...They had labels earlier," Katarina supplies quietly once she realizes she's no longer the only one by the shaved ice. "Someone ran way with them... but they're bringing replacements soon. If... If you don't want to wait, though, I can tell you what they are...?"

Is that too nosy...? She offers a small smile.

"You're very kind for that, thank you." Azura returns a smile at the other woman, before turning her attention to the vast array of colored syrups. "Although..."

The chalice of ice in her hand crinkles as it melts slowly in the warmth of her hand. Her gaze lingers on the table and then on the woman herself as the light on her expression blooms. How could one know what all of these flavors are, beyond brilliance and a sharp memory? "I'd be interested in trying the flavor you enjoy most, whatever it may be. In return, please take this as my gratitude."

She reaches for a violet orchid and holds it out.

[verseandrhyme]

Now, Hoshido had not escaped the war entirely undamaged, but to call those lands razed would be a great exaggeration of the war's effects. Though a performer she might be, that sort of exaggeration seems entirely out of character for Azura, from what admittedly little Mitama knows.

So, either she is being boldly lied to, or their experiences are quite different.

"I see." This provides quite a conundrum...It had been different with Soleil, where Mitama's heart bleed so freely that she could not stop herself from spewing her truth to the other woman. There is no similar love in her heart for Azura, no burning urge to correct the falsehoods and missteps between them.

She is not interested in lying. But the narrative that Azura paints is quite uninteresting to her.

"Quite a bit. I only fought alongside him for the last portion, after all." She shrugs and sighs. "But I am sure my father himself would be happy to answer that question for you as well."

[aquaatics]

"I see." — but her answers answer little, if not raise more questions. Azura hums softly to herself as the music stars to slow, and alongside it, their steps. As the distant rush of a harp draws the song into silence, Azura manages a smile and slides herself into a deep bow.

If Azama knows something, if Azama is here...

Always more questions; never any answers. Life and time are both too strange of concepts for Azura to not linger on the thought, but the girl's disinterest and redirection is noted. An orchid — pink, just like her — is handed over in two outstretched hands.

"In that case," she murmurs, "thank you kindly for the dance."

[aquaatics]

every time you remember me

shigure & azura | toaball2026; continued from here

[pastbelow]

though they are both singers by birthright and only dancers by association, the steps come easier than they ought to. he had expected an awkward nudge or two, hindered by the dark as they are---but when he reaches out to pull her close again, her hand is exactly where he expected it to be.

is this what the leader had meant by test of faith? if so, then he is performing admirably, isn't he? shigure lets the smile set on his face, an invisible veneer. may this lie last for a moment longer.

"i'm doing as well as ever, mother. you don't need to worry about me," he teases, laughing quietly. "actually, i've reunited with a few of my old friends from the war, who are enrolled in studies here. i wager they're making waves around the hall as we speak..."

[aquaatics]

although she returns his laughter — at the end of it all, worry holds onto her heart with unrelenting persistence and poisons what should be solely joy at finding her son. she does not need to worry, he is correct; but still, it cannot leave her.

friends from the war — the other nohrian children, then. but do the consequences of her path haunt him, too? with her gone, is it all for him to bear alone, and meet faces of aunts and uncles that find remnants of her failure in him? it is easy to hide pain in the melodic sway of word, to let the song of laughter muddle truth—

so azura, despite the bile in her throat, opens her eyes. the world is blinding when she does, but a spin shifts her away from the direct glare of firelight, instead putting shigure where she stood.

beyond how he has grown since she last saw him ( and had she ever seen him in formalwear like this? no, oh; ), there's something amiss about the smile plastered onto his face. and it's then when she tries to shut her eyes again, but they are forced open by her own worry as it reminds her why she needs it always.

"i'm glad. i'm sure i'll find them later on." she swallows as her steps falter, falling just behind the beat for a few moments before she catches herself.

a breath. how much has he seen?

"i'm sorry, shigure. i promise that i'll... be here for you, for good." returning back to time, she pauses, words caught in the back of her throat before they escape: "i don't want you to go any longer with mere stories of me." i know it hurts for memory to fade.

[verseandrhyme]

"My father is fine."

Should she be offended by the audacity to ask? Perhaps. The timeline of the other history evades her. She only knows that there are things that occurred for her that had not occurred for them, and vice versa. She knows that her dear friends, in that life, had never known her.

Was she dead, she wondered. Had she ever even been born?

The answer that Azura grants her is not particularly noteworthy, except for one detail. Mitama remembers much of the battles taking place not in Nohr or Hoshido, at least for her time in the army. Why then would it be that Hoshido bared the brunt of the wounds, enough so for her to name them specifically?

"What wounds could you possibly be referring to, I wonder?" She remembers stories of a devastating moment that had taken the late queen's life, but she remembers most of that having been rebuilt by the time she stepped foot there. "When I left, it was Nohr that was in need of aid with the establishment of trade routes between our neighbors."

[aquaatics]

Father, but the woman in front of her doesn't look very young in comparison to Azama. Azura smiles and nods in acknowledgement. It could not have been possible for Azama and his partner to access the Deeprealms, couldn't it? Not without Corrin's support, at least — so Azura arrives at her conclusion(s).

Many, many years have passed since Azura has died.

...Either that, or Azama had successfully hidden a kid from all of them long before she died. Which is... impressive (?). She isn't sure what is more shocking, but she hums quietly to herself to keep surprise from seeping through.

But Hinoka didn't look that worn, even with the burden of the crown there to accelerate her age; this woman's question of whether Azura's battles were worth it implicates knowledge of history, when her newest question does not. Azura blinks as they sweep into the center of the ballroom, theories crumbling with dance.

"War between both kingdoms," she eventually settles, voice low and mellow, "that encroached upon Hoshidan lands and left them razed by battle." A pause, as hesitation finds itself clouding golden eyes and stuttering the movements of the crane. "It must have been before you were alive... or when you were very young. How much has your father told you?"

[aquaatics]

[ GRANNVALE ] - An old waltz from before the rise of Emperor Arvis. It was popular during its time in the 750s but has now become a relic of the past, one that may not be as appreciated by the newer generation.

"I was not aware you were at the monastery, Lady Azura," Jakob says as they wheel and turn across the ballroom. A step there, a step there, all on a butler's expert guidance. "A splendid thing that you are. About time this monastery showed some respectable faces around here."

Expert guidance indeed, because following Jakob's lead is second nature. Every shift of his weight, every tilt and turn in his shoulders — there is no guesswork when it comes down to Azura's next step. Gold irises are alight as tension seeps away for more reasons than merely song, allowing her to sink comfortably into the dance.

Thus, at the comment, she laughs. "You've always been a charmer, Jakob. Although, I think there must be more that would fit your criteria of respectable here." A tilt of her head, as they sweep past the edge of the space. "...Or, at least, sit a little below the high bar you've set through example."

Another couple of beats before the waltz slows, and Azura bows her head in gratitude before extending an orchid branch to him. Her smile holds as her voice picks up a wistful air. "But it truly is lovely to see a familiar face. Are affairs back in Nohr faring well?"

[aquaatics]

[ FLOWER ARRANGEMENT ] - No matter how many flowers you gather, your bouquet won’t look its best unless you have the skill to make it so. A couple of students have taken upon itself to imbue their peers with the knowledge of flower language and the art of flower arrangement, and as a result the garden has become something of a workshop.

Last she had seen him, he was in imprisonment — surrounded by soldiers that found makeshift prisons in Hoshidan land, disarmed as enemy weapons always loomed, and left to watch his own army's blood spilled in senselessness. It is not a crime that can be easily forgiven, nor is it a memory that can be left behind; so Azura remembers like it is yesterday. The memory must be more deeply rooted in Tsubaki's mind than her own though — he must remember like it is now.

It is easier to leave than it is to approach him at the table, but to do so would admit that she was wrong in the path she had committed to. Thus: "It's good to see you," — well, she tries to add, but it doesn't emerge; it is not her assumption to make — "Tsubaki."

The greeting is small but steady. Underneath the cover of confidence is wallowing guilt, threatening to simmer past the crumbling walls she had maintained throughout war, throughout death.

I know I hurt you, — and it emerges as a small slide of an orchid, lavender petals crinkling against the wooden tabletop. Is what we have done deserving of forgiveness? — and it emerges as a gentle hum: "...Would your bouquet be open to one more offering?"

[aquaatics]

[ SWEET BUN TRIO ] - Three delicious, bite-sized buns from Faerghus. The first bun is filled with sweet cream and topped with icing and a candied cherry. The second is a sweet roll filled with almonds, pecans, and dried cranberries and glazed with honey. The third is a bun sliced in half, filled with almond paste and whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar on top.

Her elbow brushes against something. It isn't clear as to what until there's the clang and shatter of porcelain, pulling her gaze down to the ground — and therein lies her answer: what used to be a plate, and three buns that were now resting in their toppings.

"Ah, my apologies." She shakes her head, concern glazing her stare as she looks back at the other woman. A small laugh. "I was rather erratic with my movement. Are you alright?" At the first sign of no visible injuries, Azura ducks to start cleaning the mess, picking up the larger shards of porcelain to set aside.

"Allow me to get you another plate — and an orchid too, as reparations." Click, click, and most of the visible shards are now tucked toward the wall. She sighs, now picking up a sad, somewhat squished bun. "These did look delicious, my lady."

[aquaatics]

every time you remember me

shigure & azura | toaball2026; continued from here

[aquaatics]

@pastbelow // the voice is familiar, the laugh less so. but when he hears it, shigure doesn't need to open his eyes for her image to appear before him, clear as glass. oh, but he wishes he could look, search for all the ways that this azura, surely, differs from the memory he keeps alive: what is she wearing? how did she style her hair? is the smile in her voice filled with joy, or sorrow? but he feels that telltale sensation crawling up his throat, a tightness about his eyes---and so maybe it's for the best that she can't see him, either. "…well, you found me," he replies, nothing but a smile in his voice when he's able to speak once more. he squeezes her hand gently, and lifts it just high enough to spin her beneath it. "won't you let me take the lead this time, mother?"

and just as he makes the realization, so too does she. the timbre is undeniable, even if it is lower than she remembers. the softness to his voice, the gentility is still there — but she thinks it is more worn than what he sounded like before she died. when she spins under shigure's arm, her throat tightens. her eyes squeeze themselves shut until colors bloom beneath her lids.

he sounds healthy, well, happy. and really, when did he grow so tall? her trembling hand finds his shoulder, gentle in its touch. "of course, shigure." words stable and light, despite the sudden weight that found itself rooted in her heart. "i would love nothing more."

she isn't sure what is worse: to keep her eyes shut or to open them despite the arbitrary rules of the dance. it is best, she thinks, to keep them shut until she has the opportunity to collect herself. a few steps back, a few steps to the side — all in perfect sync. "have you been faring well? have you found friends at the academy?"