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Calliope Mori stood in the tiny airport's arrivals area, thinking about another, larger airport and twenty months of lost time. Such a short interval, and yet… she wasn't a reaper's apprentice anymore. The movements of the earth, sun and moon felt different now.
Everything felt different now. Even Kiara's parting words in the heaving chaos of Narita terminal 2 had felt different. See you again, darling~ For the first time, the only time in aeons, Calli had heard doubt in the phoenix's voice. That doubt had lingered in her gut ever since. Everything had been too new, then, to believe in. Hololive. Calli's humanity. Success.
And now here she was. She resisted the urge to fiddle with the thick-framed dark glasses, settling for shrugging her shoulders deeper – she hoped – into the thick collar of her jacket. That morning in Tokyo, she'd been an up-coming rapper with one hit to her name. Kiara had been unknown outside of one specific corner of the internet. Her hair colour, and Calli's height, had made them stand out a little, but no-one would have cared to notice.
Now every paparazzo in Japan was hunting them both, and a good many from abroad too. 4th Fes was going to be one of the biggest live music events of the year, and everyone knew that the Blazing Idol, Takanashi Kiara, had to be travelling to Japan roughly now. Everyone knew that rap goddess Calliope Mori, now six singles into a still-unbroken run of number one hits, would be eager to meet her.
Hence this tiny airport on a tiny outlying island. Hence the glasses, the coat, the slouching against this specific wall that a Hololive staffer had scouted out for Calli the week before, checking for lines of sight to the taxi rank outside, the security cameras, the receiving space itself. Hence the limo with the very specific timing and instructions, presumably right now idling somewhere in the airport's tree-lined car park.
Calli checked her watch – not hers, but a plain black plastic casio borrowed from her manager – and glanced across at the doors. Kiara's plane had landed. She was in whatever passed for baggage claim here. That had been timed out as closely as possible, too. The limo should be starting its engine to cruise round and pick them up.
She felt like she barely dared breathe. She felt sick. Her head hurt, and her eyes were watering. The morning was cold, and it was too damn early. Airports were always like this.
But this airport, on this day, waiting for this person, was like nothing else.
She knew what illness was, of course. Humans died from it all the time. She'd even been ill a couple of times herself, since quitting the reaping job. This felt like that, but… not. She couldn't get sick now, anyway, not with training for Fes starting in a week.
The arrivals door swung timidly open and Calli lurched forward involuntarily, halfway upright before she got herself under control. The diminutive old lady, silver-haired and smiling, who tottered out into the light, awkwardly manoeuvring a tiny suitcase behind her, was not Kiara. Calli rode down the weird bubbly-hearted feeling that she got whenever something other than exercise made her pulse race.
She checked her watch again. This spot had been chosen to be hidden from the road, so she couldn't glance outside to see if the limo was pulling up on time. The door swung again, a group of middle-aged men who had probably been propelled here by boardroom money. Salarymen couldn't afford Yukiarajima resorts. And behind them-
Calli's head swam – so that was what that expression meant – but she pressed her shoulders back against the wall and forced herself to breathe. There really was no disguising Kiara, but she'd done her best. The teal feathers dangling out from inside her dark grey hood would probably pass for earrings on a cursory glance, though they didn't match the rest of the outfit. She'd even managed to hunch a bit, but Calli's shallow breathing and welling eyes knew her stance too well. Her suitcase was the same bright orange one that she'd checked at Narita before leaving Japan.
For a moment Calli glanced round, wondering how no-one else could feel the heat of the phoenix's wings, but for now that was only the force of her own memories.
Then she was moving forward, forcing her steps dull and slow, relying on her dance training. Feel whatever you want, your feet have to move just right. Can't be too noisy, can't attract too much attention right now. Make it to the limo.
Violet eyes found hers at a range of fifteen feet and she almost lost it, even then. She was not going to cry. Or blink, because the effect would be the same. God knew what her face looked like. Kiara shone despite the sixteen hours of travel time written on her skin.
Stop short. No hugs. Nothing to attract attention. They were already too tall. Somehow, she managed to meet Kiara's eyes. Her cheeks were cold. "Hey, I-"
"Yeah-"
"Car," Calli managed, her throat as tight as Kiara's sounded. She jerked her head towards the exit and almost lost her balance. In a busier airport she'd have bumped into someone and caused a scene, but now she just stumbled a step and had to catch her glasses to stop them sliding down her face. She didn't look back at Kiara as they headed for the taxi rank.
The aircon just inside the exit blasted them with stinging hot air for a second, but the ice-clear November day outside quickly stole any actual warmth from it. Long, low, and glistening black like half-remembered weapons from her reaping days, the limo sat in the bay, suited driver at attention by the open door.
Now Calli did have to glance back, and Kiara faltered behind her, puzzled. The phoenix said, "Limo? But-"
"I'll explain." Calli tried to keep her voice low, but it was hard without dipping into her characteristic gruffness. Would anyone overhear? "Come on."
With only the barest nod for the driver as he stepped aside, Calli ducked into the limo. Where should she sit? For a moment, she had a vision of sitting in the middle at the back, Kiara sprawling up her side, like in a music video. Maybe there'd be time to make something like that before the end of Kiara's stay. The bird would go for it in an instant, she knew…
What was she thinking? The schedule was so tight once they got back to Tokyo that even if they got lucky with the press there'd barely be time for the odd meal alone together. Cheeks hot, Calli slid herself onto the long bench seat opposite the mini-bar. The bar was shuttered, and the black glass privacy screen to the driver's seat raised.
Still, Calli didn't start breathing until the door thumped shut behind Kiara. She slid her sunglasses off and let her hands flop to the leather upholstery, leaning her head back on the rest. Kiara pulled back her hood, stray hairs escaping to wreathe her face in orange.
Soft though the limo's internal lighting was, Kiara looked tired. She stared at Calli for a few silent moments while the car oozed into motion. "A limo? Really?"
Calli held back a sigh. "A guy on the board at Cover knows the firm's owner. The driver's the owner's nephew or something. Best way to ensure we get a driver who won't pry or tattle."
Kiara closed her mouth. Then, "Jesus, it's that bad?"
"I haven't been home in a week." The blinds were down over the tinted windows, but Calli still had to drag her eyes back from staring at the cracks of light to look at the shocked phoenix. "Couch-surfing and sleepover collabs. I need this break as much as you." She tried to smile. "It's good to see you, bird."
"You too, god, I didn't realise…" Kiara looked down, swaying with motions Calli recognised from her streaming. "I mean, I did, but not really. Thank you for booking everything."
Waving a limp hand at the limo, Calli said, "I had help."
That seemed to be all they could manage. It wasn't a very long drive to the hotel, the island itself wasn't that big, but still. Reaching, Calli said, "How was the flight?"
"Good, yeah." Kiara frowned. "I don't think anyone recognised me too much. I just tried to sleep."
"How'd that go?"
"Ugh. Planes, you know?"
"Word."
Calli shifted in her seat. Her stomach felt unsteady. She hadn't exactly eaten well the last couple of weeks… or at all, this morning. There'd be time to fix that later. At least the limo was properly smooth. The firm's owner's nephew knew his job.
It was weird seeing Kiara in jeans, even out of the corner of her eye. It had been so long since she'd seen the phoenix off-stream. She tried not to stare. Both of them spent too much time being stared at these days.
"How far is it to the hotel?" Kiara's voice knifed through Calli's wandering throughts.
"Few minutes." Calli shrugged. "The island is not very big."
"Are you ok?"
Looking up, Calli found the full force of Kiara's concern on her, purple irises like agates drilling into her skull. She shrugged again. "Just… tired. Stressing over arrangements."
"Same old, huh?" For a moment there was a flash of on-stream Kiara, wide grin and stock phrasing. Then her brow pinched. "You better not be wearing yourself out on my account."
Before Calli could respond, the limo crested a hump and pitched downwards, the unmistakable sensation of pulling into an underground parking lot. Kiara's face showed a moment of alarm, so Calli just said, "We're here."
Kiara turned to peer at the window, but didn't reach for the blind. The limo stopped, almost imperceptibly, and there was the slight roll as the driver got out, then the sound of the door catch opening. Chill air spilled in, but no extra light; the garage was as muted as the limo.
Hunching, Calli followed Kiara out to the concrete and stood. The hotel's manager, a tall, bony man with salt-and-pepper hair, stood waiting for them in his impeccably crisp uniform. He bowed his head to Kiara's obvious puzzlement and said, "This way please, Ms. Takanashi, Ms. Mori. I'll have someone see to your things."
Kiara looked to Calli, alarm etched on her face. In English, Calli murmured, "Hotels can be trusted, remember?" It was an old joke between them, a reference to a different, much cheaper, hotel in Tokyo that had kept their secrets against all bribery, but she hoped Kiara wouldn't take it as teasing. Hotels this expensive really could be trusted, if you dealt directly with the managers.
She stepped forward, taking Kiara's arm. The phoenix didn't resist, but didn't exactly relax either. They followed the manager through the etched-glass sliding doors the limo had pulled up beside and into glossy-floored luxury. Even here in the basement, no expense was spared. The dark-panelled walls were embossed with a narrow double-strip of gleaming brass. A black-lacquered table, surface so shiny it looked like a still pool at night, held a narrow vase of fresh-cut flowers.
The elevator doors opposite were open, the elevator car walled in warm mahogany. Calli caught sight of her face in the mirror at the back and regretted it. She turned, facing the door and slouching into the corner. Kiara hovered by the threshold while the manager pressed a button on the panel, doing his best – as requested – to hide which button from his guests.
Acceleration barely more perceptible than the limo's, the elevator started upwards. Calli felt the phoenix's gaze on her but didn't look, closing her eyes and resting her head against the woodwork instead. The hotel didn't have enough floors for a long ride, but still, it dragged out in stiff silence.
With a gentle lurch that still somehow flipped Calli's gut, the elevator stopped. The doors pinged and opened, to a square room maybe a dozen feet to a side, floored with an intricate mosaic. Ahead, over the imposing panels of two ornately-carved doors, brass-inlaid kanji proclaimed the poetic name of the penthouse suite.
The manager crossed to the discreet security panel beside the doors. Bracing herself, Calli followed, not quite having to pull Kiara with her. Their sneakers sounded wrong on the high-class floor, too squeaky, too quiet. Smiling, the manager swung the door open to dazzling sunlight.
Calli squinted and walked into the penthouse. The atrium's window was small, but the screens were open through to the lounge, where the whole east wall was glass, and the winter sun was still low. She shook her head to try to clear the afterimages and regretted it. It felt like her brain was loose inside her skull. Maybe her eyeballs too.
She managed to turn to face Kiara as the door swung silently closed behind her. "Our hideout for the week. What d'you think?"
"The penthouse?" Shock thickened Kiara's accent. "Oh my god, Calli."
"I wanted to make up for the one I couldn't get for you last year." She tried to keep her voice casual, but her throat felt tight.
"Oh my fucking god, Calli." Kiara stuck her with the full force of a glare. "Please tell me this wasn't as expensive as that one."
Calli looked away, to the elegant metalwork of the stand-lamp in the corner by the door. With a strangled chuckle, she managed, "Hey, I gotta do something with all this money, right?"
"Oh my-" Kiara bit off another curse, looking around the room. Then, more quietly, "Oh my god."
Calli took a step closer to the phoenix, her legs feeling like twigs. "Hey, did you figure out why I chose this island yet? It's in the name."
"Yukiarajima?" Kiara's frown changed shape. Language stuff always got her. "I don't think I've seen it written out. Snow something?"
"Not the first part." Bubbles rushed through Calli's chest. What if Kiara didn't get it?
"Jima? It's not just Yukiara Island?"
Something shot across the insides of Calli's eyeballs, the rush of cool focus that she usually felt when a new lyric fell into place. For the first time since the airport, she almost felt like she could breathe. First, though, she said, "What if you wanted to sound a bit more, like, old-fashioned, you might say it was the…"
"…Isle of Yukiara-" and all of it was worth it for the way Kiara's face dawned as she sounded it out.