Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Azu could be standoffish. It wasn't like Iruma hated it, but that was easy to say when he was never on the receiving end. No matter what Iruma did, he couldn’t break the bonds of their friendship. This wasn't going to ruin everything. It definitely wasn't. It didn’t matter that his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest, or that he was swallowing so many nerves his mouth had gone dry.

He bowed, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and confessed, “I… I like you!”

Azu was a total romantic. That was why Iruma decided to say it like this, rather than sneaking it into a normal conversation—'and by the way, I've realized that I want to stay with you forever.' That would be even more embarrassing.

"Yes, Iruma-sama," Azu replied, normally. "I like you too. Clearly."

Iruma's head shot up. "Y—you do?"

***

“Do you think it’ll work this time?” Lied asked, leaning over the balcony to peer down at their lovebirds. Did they even think about where they were? It was Royal One. There were weird closets and passages everywhere; there was no privacy.

“No,” Jazz replied. He bounced a rubber ball against the floor. Boing. “He’s still oblivious.”

Iruma had to realize that Asmodeus liked him sometime . Maybe sometime around three years ago, but watching them unsubtly flit around each other never lost its entertainment value. Lied gestured. “Look! He’s blushing! They’ve gotta be talking about romance!”

“This is like the fifth time, though.”

That was an understatement, but whatever. Clara picked that moment to pop out of a vase. “Wuzzat?”

“Hey, Clara-chan,” Jazz replied, while Lied was still wondering whether there was a secret passage inside the vase, or whether Clara was just taking a nap in there. It was lucky that they had a lot of statues and things. If some broke, or went missing, no one was likely to notice.

“Are we spying on my soulmates?” Clara asked, looking down on them. By that time, Azu was clearly enthusing about something-or-other, and Iruma was chuckling awkwardly. Fail. “Azu-azu is gonna get suspicious if you get too close, you gotta be sneaky.” 

Jazz saw a business opportunity. Clara was as grown up as the rest of them, she could gamble if she wanted. “We’re betting on how long it’ll take them to get together. I said ten years.”

“We’re already ‘t’gether,’ Clara objected, apparently unbothered.

“But together like dating ,” Lied said, “like, ‘two demons sitting in a tree.’”

“Two demons…” Clara’s eyebrows scrunched together. She looked like an affronted lime, but then a light-bulb went off over her head. “Oh! I get it! Thanks, Shaxy!”

Some time after she ran off, Jazz voiced a concern. “...What do you think she’s going to do?”

“No idea.”

***

In the early days, they always met at Iruma’s house. Alice had had no idea that Clara’s was so much closer, tangled up as it was in such a confusing patch of forest. Still. He knocked, and called out, “Valac! I’m here!”

The door opened with enough swiftness to seem abrupt, and a pair of vibrant green eyes looked up at him. “Azu-nii-san! Good morning!”

“Good morning,” Alice replied. He had his cousins, so he wasn’t totally unfamiliar with children, but they still made him a bit nervous. Not that he’d ever admit that. It was a wonder that Clara could ever be lonely with this many Valacs around to play, or maybe that explained it; maybe it was separation anxiety. “Do you know where Clara is?”

“Aroooound,” Keebo replied, grinning. “You should come in! Have some breakfast!”

Alice did see it coming. He did not like it. Regardless, he stepped inside, noting the suspicious absence of other Valacs, and knelt down to take off his boots. Clara wasted no time in pouncing. “Haha!” she declared, clinging to his back like a limpet. “Gotchu!”

“ Why —”

That was when she tied the blindfold on. That was also when he really started to struggle, surrounded by laughter, but such efforts were futile. He was in enemy territory. He couldn’t be assured of his safety. Perhaps he should compose a final letter? No, he had no way to send it, unless he suddenly developed an affinity for mind magics. Then it really would be a shame. 

When his sight returned to him, he was seated in front of a raging fire. The table was smothered with burning candles, wax dripping onto the floor, and the air was thick with the scent of tallow. Alice didn’t actually mind, being somewhat of a pyromaniac, but the flames cast Clara’s smile in a disturbing light. “Welcome~”

“You—why! Why.”

“Boo, Azu-azu! You should be excited!”

“And why would I be excited?!” Alice was just gearing up to a good rant, but another child appeared, bearing a large covered platter. Anything could be under there. A monster he was meant to fight. A clue to a riddle. A fish.

Or a steak. It could be—and was—an ordinary slab of meat, and more platters were quickly arriving. Alice took a moment to study his surroundings in greater detail. He had a plate, and a champagne glass full of blood-orange juice, and they were out in one of the sheds, based on the slivers of sunlight finding their way through the ceiling. 

“Steak is tasty,” Clara explained, helping herself to a pile of foodstuffs. It looked like she had some of those rye rolls Alice liked, so he went ahead and snagged one. Clara was a good cook. She always said it was ‘love.’ It had been Alice’s impression that this wasn’t equivalent to culinary training, but whatever. He spread some butter on his roll. Delicious.

He might as well ask. “...And why were you hiding out here?”

“Surprises are romantic,” Clara declared, with all the confidence of someone saying something fundamentally wrong and distressing. The fact that she was gesturing with a still-burning candle didn’t help. “It’s our first date!”

***

Alice was furious. Or, maybe not furious, given how familiar he was with Clara’s antics, but—no. That didn’t make it better. That made it worse. Her early morning dinner date had caused them to miss homeroom entirely, and now he was stuck in Advanced Mathemagics for another block, dreading Kalego-sensei’s wrath. As the man was no longer Iruma’s familiar, his mercy hinged entirely on his goodwill. Alice wouldn’t care about staying on his good side, except detention was undeniably a waste of time. They were fourth years. They shouldn’t even have the possibility of detention. They should be able to do whatever they wanted. 

“Hey, Azu-kun.”

This wasn’t close to the only stressor in Alice’s life, either. He had to take more classes away from his soulmates, this year. He was meant to be branching out, but it was just making him irritable. What if something happened? He’d never forgive himself if one of them got hurt and he wasn’t there to commit a murder immediately afterwards.

“Azu-kun?”

“What?” he snapped. It was a short conversation. He was brusque.

***

“It’s a matter of principle,” he explained, combing fingers through his hair. It was at a bit of an awkward length, after the last cut; he was self-conscious, and besides, “He took it right off my head!”

“It’s a ribbon,” Lied stressed, rolling over on his stomach. They were sitting on the floor in the nap room, purely because that was the first place Alice could find someone to grumble—to submit a complaint to. “Chill out, dude. He’s just messing with you. He’ll probably give it back, so long as it’s not worth anything.”

The idea that Jazz might pawn off Alice’s prized possession was just too much to take. If he wanted to get technical, his grudge against Jazz probably started around that time when he was forcibly separated from Iruma-sama and had to join the New Magic Batra. He did up learning some things—Garuu-senpai was alright to talk to—but his fellow misfit completely refused to help him get out of it, and that was an unforgivable offense. It wasn’t like Jazz cared about the rules. He just wanted someone to draw diagrams.

“Unbelievable,” Alice scathed. Despite this, he made no move to… move. He’d already spent an hour cleaning blackboards.

A figure came rumbling through the piles of blankets and pillows. Brilliant. Someone else to observe his suffering. “You seem morose,” Sabro observed, appearing refreshingly sympathetic.

“Jazzy stole Azu-azu’s special ribbon,” Clara explained. That couldn’t be her actual whisper. Actually, there was no way that Sabro would hear her whispering, unless she was also sitting on his shoulders. Maybe the stage whisper was a necessity. She never had this kind of interpersonal problem, because she was more likely to be the one playing pranks.

“We’ve been entrusted with the Demon King’s classroom,” Sabro began, in an oddly serious tone. “I know you’re upset, but I have to request that you refrain from becoming Wicked—”

“I’m not in my Wicked phase!”

This was why Alice didn’t try to be sociable. The sphere of demons he could tolerate, etiquette aside, was very small. He swept away. His long coat fluttered in a mysterious breeze. Clara followed, still humming and kicking at the ground with her slippers. “Are we looking for your hair thingie?”

“No. I’m heading home.”

“I can fix your hair, Azu-Azu.”

Now that they were out of range of any other miscreants, Alice paused. He sighed. He leaned against a convenient wall, and looked down to find Clara tugging gently at his sleeve. “That’s not…”

That wasn’t really the problem, but he trailed off, unable to finish his thought. Clara’s eyes were darting away; she was hunching her shoulders, and a shard of guilt pierced Alice’s heart. He never would have cared, before meeting Iruma-sama. He’d thought that Clara was very weird and annoying when they first met, and he still did, and it wasn’t like she couldn’t talk to literally anyone else. She was friends with the rest of the class, too. She was trying to help, even though it was only his own childishness that was the problem. 

“...If you want to.”

She smiled, then, bright and sunshiney. “Of course I do! Get down here, or I’m gonna climb up!”

Alice would show off his ridiculous hairstyle with pride.

Chapter Text

Since he planned the dance, Iruma was aware of it. He’d spent so much time folding flowers and planning party snacks that it barely left any to spend with his soulmates. Even so, he was happy to help. Unreasonably happy, maybe. He kept zoning out and smiling at nothing. He felt like he was in Hatsukoi memory—one of the arcs where they weren't running from the mafia. The flowers in his background art were in full bloom.

He also knew about the dance because people kept asking him. He had to turn around and run whenever an admirer approached, or risk agreeing to go with some stranger. Not that he had anything against strangers.

This girl was a first year, which made it awkward. They’d never spoken before, which made it even more awkward. She wasn’t shy; she fully kabe-don-ed him, slamming her palm into the wall beside his head and pinning him there with a piercing yellow gaze. “Ssssuzuki Iruma,” she hissed. “You will be my date to the Fireball Revel. It’s a ssssuitable match.”

“Um—” Iruma replied, eyes darting around wildly. He felt like a tiny insect. “I don’t, don’t really want to—that sounds rude, I’m sssorry. Sorry! I mean, um—" This was awful. Saying no to people was so hard, especially when they looked like they might try to kill you. Iruma had negative associations with that sort of thing.

“Hey, snake girl,” someone chimed in. “He’s like, totally not interested. You’re wasting your time. And we've gotta go, so, bye!"

Snake girl looked offended, but Lied was already grabbing Iruma's arm and pulling him away.

It wasn’t a romantic rescue; Lied let go as soon as they reached the end of the hallway, but Iruma was still impressed. “Thanks. When did you learn to talk to girls?”

“Akudol competitions,” Lied replied, shrugging. He said it was worth it to have money for all the latest DLC, but he was also known to show up with bows in his hair, so maybe he didn’t mind it that much to begin with. “I still don’t have a date to the revel, though… Do you know who you’re going with?”

Iruma blushed. It was just a reflex. Any time he remembered, he got butterflies in his stomach. “Y—yeah. I think so.”

“ Really? ”

“Well…” Iruma paused awkwardly. Very awkwardly—Lied seemed oddly invested in his love life, if the wide eyes were anything to go by. At least it was a friendly stare. It was worrying. Azu knew infinitely more about demonic customs, no matter how many lectures Iruma sat through, and he liked to go all out. Lots of dramatic gestures. That was why Iruma thought he might like to be the one to ask. Officially. “...Yeah.”

***

“Iruma-chi!” Clara exclaimed, tossing herself full force. He made no attempt to evade. He caught her and spun her around like one of those swing-rides at the new Walter Park until she broke out in giggles. “Again!”

They spun around until Iruma lost his balance and sent them tumbling onto the grass. He pulled the ponytail out of his hair, since it was going to get all ruffled anyway. “Were you waiting long?”

Clara’s face grew serious; she clung to his leg. “Yes. Forever.”

“S—sorry!” he apologized. “Amelie-san wanted my help with planning again, I didn’t think it would run so—”

“Just kidding~” The sun was already setting by then, but Clara pulled a sheet of paper out of her pocket. It was a plan, mostly written in colored pencil, with a few illustrations thrown in for good measure. Iruma thought the monsters represented possible failure and/or death. “We’ve gotta make a present for Azu-azu.”

“Huh?” 

Iruma had been thinking about Azu a lot lately, sure, but he assumed Clara was thinking about Clara things. Like schemes, and bugs, and games. Maybe mostly games. “He seemed a little down the other day,” she elaborated, “so I thought, ‘as big sis Clara, I gotta cheer him up!’ But then it didn’t feel like enough, so…”

"No way! I'm sure it was perfect." Iruma wouldn't let either of his friends be sad if he could possibly help it. They always stood up for him; it was only fair, and there was no reason to wait around for someone else to take care of things for him.

“I gave him a million butterfly clips. ‘Cause he told me to stop giving people real butterflies.”

“Perfect,” Iruma maintained. “Now we just have to think about what to make.”

***

Alice turned a page. The problems in the book were not as pressing as the problems in his life, grades be damned, and he was having trouble maintaining his focus—was Iruma avoiding him? Alice couldn’t even find his soulmates to walk home together yesterday. He flew. It was a lot faster, but somehow fundamentally unsatisfying. 

“Hey, Azu-azu.”

He screamed. He’d been deep in thought, his thoughts were very important, and anyway, this was the definition of showing up announced.

Clara rolled her eyes at him. Her magic pockets were currently sewn onto a pair of pink overalls, and he might’ve stared (in disbelief) for a little too long, because she stuck her thumbs in them and giggled. “Hehe~ aren’t I cute?”

“No,” he objected. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

She wandered over to the bookshelf and started flipping through titles. Since she could only stay quiet long enough to sneak up on people. “Well, Iruma-chi said that when you’re dating someone, you can just show up.”

Ever since Iruma’s last vocabulary lesson, everyone had been scrambling for an excuse to gossip. There were plenty of break ups, make ups, dates, and so on. Some people still didn’t grasp the idea. Alice took another book out of Clara’s greedy little paws. “We’re not dating. I don’t even know why you think that.”

“Oh. I already told your mom, though.” 

Alice dropped said book. “ Valac! ”

They were on the verge of some serious bickering when the devil herself popped in. She leaned extravagantly against the door frame. “Keep the door open, darling. You know I don’t mind you having friends over, but there have to be some rules. And hello again, Clara-chan!”

Clara beamed at her. Alice wanted to die. Scratch that, he wanted to burn something to ashes. As if his mother cared about being respectable! She just wanted to spy on their conversation! He couldn’t even articulate this point; his mouth kept opening and closing, but no words came out. 

“Knee-ways,” Clara continued, oblivious. She snagged the fallen novel and added it to her ‘card tower.’ “I wanna go shopping!”

“Yes,” Alice agreed, immediately. “Let’s go down to Magical Street. I’ll pay for everything, come on, let’s leave, now .”

“How chivalrous,” Amaryllis remarked.

***

Clara made Alice’s weekend plan of… moping around and studying seem a little ridiculous.

She decided they had to have a fashion show, though they didn't have a judge aside from their familiars. Falfal's choices were frustratingly unpredictable; Gorgon Snake(u) preferred anything shiny. He even picked a holographic bag off the wall. And then they got kicked out of the store, despite Alice's attempts to explain. The sun was hot overhead; the pavement was hot underfoot. Alice’s hair was curling up at the ends. He’d be more worried about that if he didn’t have detection warding glasses, though those also looked stupid.

“I want ice cream,” Clara pestered.

He didn’t even look down. “You shouldn’t snack right before lunch.”

“Too late.”

Since she already had the ice creams in hand, he took one, and pretended it wasn’t melting on his hand while he negotiated with the taco truck. They were out of carne asada. Alice found this ridiculous and offensive, but they eventually got their food and went to sit by the fountain in the center of the square. R ather than actually sitting down, Clara shoved a shopping bag at him.  “Huh?”

“T—this is for you,” she said.

He had no idea when she’d found the time to get anything for him. They’d been together the whole day. He took it, letting their fingers brush, and looked inside. He found the most ridiculous accessory. It might be a cluster of silk flowers, all pink and blue and purple, surrounded by green leaves and trailing ribbons like the tail of a jellyfish. It might be something else. The details that blurred together at a distance seemed intricate up close; it presented an optical illusion. “Where did you find this?”

“I didn’t, dumb-dumb.”

It was amazing to him that she could still act like he was the idiot. Knowing that she made it shouldn’t have made it so meaningful, but he looked again, and he was holding the most wonderful present in the world. This sort of feeling warranted a declaration. “Clara, I—”

She interrupted him. She was like that. “So you’ll go, right?” she asked, sparkling brightly. It was unfair, the way the sun shone off all those  um-fashionable sequins. It was dazzling. “Right?”

Had something changed? Had he changed? They’d been in and out of each other’s pockets for so long, maybe they’d grown to suit each other. It felt natural to run around getting into mischief. He had no idea what she was asking, but, “I wouldn’t want you getting into trouble all by yourself.”

Chapter Text

This was nothing like the Deviculum, but Iruma was a million times more terrified. He stuck to the walls as closely as possible, trying not to get caught up in the crowd before he could spot his date’s arrival. He was sure they were meeting at the dance. Azu hadn’t shown up at his house with a limo. 

“Hey.”

There wasn’t anyone there. There definitely, almost certainly wasn’t anyone leaning against the wall next to him, acting fidgety and cool and uninvolved, but he replied anyway. “Hey, Purson-kun. I thought you were in the band?”

“We’re not playing yet,” Soi informed him. “And don’t pretend you don’t know that, I think it’s so weird when people say things they don’t mean, because how are you supposed to have a real conversation if you’re not honest with each other? It doesn’t make talking easier at all.”

“Hm,” Iruma agreed. 

“And even if we were playing, I’m not sure my band-mates know what they’re doing. One of them said,”—Soi’s voice slipped into a facsimile—”’according to my rules, this is the way to practice,’ while totally goofing off, which can’t be a good sign, right?”

“Sounds familiar,” Iruma agreed. 

“I don’t think anyone would mind it if you wanted to play a song.”

Iruma startled a little at that. Sure, he knew where the keys were, but that was about it. He only practiced because it seemed silly not to. “I’m not any good!”

“You’re better than first year. You sucked back then.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Iruma remembered that he was talking to one of the nosiest demons available. “Oh, have you seen Azu-kun anywhere?”

“Nope. And it’s almost time for the overture, so, bye!”

An overture. Why was this whole thing so upscale and uncomfortable? Oh, right, he’d been trying to think of things that Azu might like, and then Amelie just kept signing off on them. Maybe he’d go find some appetizers.

***

Alice hoped there would be no kidnapping on this ‘date.’ He already knew where they were going—it would be a nice, evening stroll down to campus, so Clara could work out some energy, and then they were going to dance and drink punch (that somebody was probably going to spike) and settle in to watch the meteor shower. It was a perfect plan. He didn’t have to knock. Clara’s mother, Valerie, flung the door open before he could try it. She was clearly overjoyed to see him. Did they adopt him while he was distracted? Really? These demons were ridiculous. “Azu-kun! Come in, come in—you can sit down. Do you want some tea? Clara-chan is still getting ready.”

“Sure,” Alice replied.

Valerie watched him over the tea tray. He awkwardly lifted a cookie to his mouth. If he didn’t eat anything, she’d be sad. Or offended. Either would be bad, while the cookies were usually delicious. He was going to gain weight if he kept hanging out here. His life was full of pitfalls.

“I’m not going to threaten you,” she reassured. He did not ask, ‘why would you be threatening me?’ That would be far too straightforward; that would be more akin to tossing himself bodily into the trap. He ate his cookie, and he tried to think. Why did everyone assume something was going on? Jazz even gave him a weird look after he was done with his ‘why-would-you-steal-from-me-you-jackass’ rant. Alice didn’t like to feel like he was missing things. Valerie patted him on the shoulder. “After all, I know you’ll keep looking after my Clara-chan. Right?”

“Right,” Alice agreed. “I will stop her from getting into too much trouble. Ma’am.”

The moment seemed to have ended; Valerie cooed and pinched his cheek. He could feel himself turning pink with indignation. “How did Amu-chan raise such a polite boy? So serious!”

Clara coughed in the doorway. It was exactly as subtle as one would expect. Amusement tugged at the corner of Alice’s lip. He looked. She posed. She was being worn by a froofy yellow dress that was very tacky and very her , and she had her hair up in a loopy style that Alice failed to understand. 

“You look lovely,” he said. She was adorable. She was Clara. If he actually tried to explain what that meant, he’d probably end up repeating himself, but it wasn’t like it wasn’t true. Her and her tulle and her hairpins.

“You’re not wearing the thing,” she said.

It didn’t take Alice a moment to translate. He didn’t have another dimension to store things in, but he did have pockets, and he’d gently tucked it away until now. He felt embarrassingly sappy about it. “I have it here.”

Clara promptly started stabbing him with pins. “Be careful!” he scolded, while she grafted the jellyfish onto his chest. “Do you have to ruin all my clothes?”

“Do you have to wear white all the time? Azu-azu looks like a bride.”

“I do not! ”

“You get along so well,” Valerie remarked. “I’m surprised Iruma-kun isn’t here.”

“Oh, that’s…” Alice trailed off. In another life, he might’ve liked—might have really, sort of desperately, wanted to ask Iruma to the dance, but with the way he’d barely even seen Iruma this week… he hadn’t forgotten. He was just ignoring it. He wasn’t letting it bother him.

“We’re meeting him there,” Clara declared, with perfect confidence.

***

“I think you should do whatever you want to do.” Iruma made things like that seem simple. They were sitting on the roof, waiting around for the end of the year.Alice felt like he was being cajoled, even if it was only into making his own decisions. He was perfectly capable. He did not like being on his own. It was a difficult contradiction: a long time ago, he wanted nothing more than to be independent, not realizing that he was still coddled. There was no challenge he couldn’t take on. There was nothing to it but a straightforward, unrelenting grind, until most days looked the same and most nights he’d lie awake thinking of nothing except the next problem to solve.

Nowadays, there was always something else: some stray thought, some short-term memory, something worth enthusing about. It gave him a sense of purpose. 

 “...I guess I’d like to take Advanced Mathemagics,” Alice admitted. The issue with that being that Iruma failed the last course. They’d had other worries at the time, but there was no excuse in Kalego’s book. Alice had flipped through every last page to make sure. “...It worries me. Of course, I know you can take care of yourself, but...”

“I’ll be okay,” Iruma assured, though it would be fairly reasonable of him to tell Alice that he was being completely unreasonable.

***

“Iruma!” Amelie stopped short upon seeing his expression. Or maybe it was the way he was anxiously shoveling croissants into his mouth. They were so delicious, he could almost forget that he’d been waiting around for an hour. “Oh. Oh dear. Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine,” Iruma replied, grabbing another pastry. 

Amelie took it out of his hand. She was in full student council president mode, overseeing the festivities, but she was also wearing a very fancy ball gown. “We spent a lot of effort on planning this revel. I want you to enjoy yourself.”

Amelie could always see through him. Which made him feel sort of bad for being so obnoxiously morose. He had plenty of friends here; he had no reason to be lonely. “The dance is really great! I just… I thought I asked someone to go with me, but… I… didn’t actually do that at all !”

***

I can’t believe this,” Alice grumbled, ripping a very grabby vine off his pants leg. “I am— I am never going to forgive you, you understand? Never .” Besides the time, his outfit was ruined—mud, frogs, twigs in hair—and he’d had to save Clara from a wyvern. He would honestly abandon her if it weren’t for… actually, why didn’t he?

“It’s not my fault you can’t follow directions!” she objected, clinging to his back like another denizen of the forest. That was probably the safest place for her to be. 

“Your directions,” Azu replied, burning a patch of shrubbery, “are non-euclidean.” It burned badly, popping and sputtering and giving off a scent not unlike scorched rubber.

“Prokaryotic?”

“That’s. How did you even get that? Nevermind.”

They were lost. Clara kept claiming that they weren’t lost, that they were ‘almost there’ and there was nothing to worry about, but the thickness of the canopy meant that there was no way to check. Alice slashed through another tangle of vines, stumbling all the way.

“I told you,” Clara stressed, hopping down to the ground.

The moons were bright overhead, though the shower had yet to begin. The branches gave way to a clearing he recognized, though he couldn’t give himself too much credit. Civilization left its traces here. Alice was flabbergasted. “These are the Harvest Festival grounds.”

“So? Did you forget, Azu-azu? We have to get to the revel.”

“It’s not connected!”

Clara rolled her eyes, like that was no real problem. Clearly, the place they came in made no difference, and neither did the cliffs and valleys and monsters they’d seen no sign of. They set off toward the school, swooping through the air like a pair of bedraggled bats. Alice took a moment to dispel the worst of the mud, though it didn’t leave him feeling particularly presentable. The hall was dimly lit, though not so badly as the forest, which had been illuminated only by the occasional giant glowing mushroom and the flame in the hand. Demons spun slow circles across the dance floor.

They pushed through the crowd, searching, but their soulmate wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Friends weren’t in short supply, though. Someone tossed a greeting in their general direction.

“Evening,” Alice replied, without really listening. His eyes were focused on something else.

Iruma looked exactly as wonderful as expected; he looked like a prince, stepping gracefully in a whirl of embroidered cuffs and long skirts. He wasn’t a centimeter out of place, looking up at Amelie with a determined focus. He stood up on his toes to whisper something.

Alice couldn’t help but stare. That was the reason Iruma hadn’t asked him—had been avoiding him? Even when he said, ‘I like you,’ was that meant as some sort of consolation? Alice’s reply had been inadequate and incomplete. His feelings weren’t enough, no matter how often he made them clear. Clara swung Alice onto the floor, and he fell into step by muscle memory alone. Stiffly. She improvised. She made sure that they made their way over before the song ended, elbowing demons too foolish to remove themselves from her path. “That’s our Iruma-chi,” she said.

Amelie didn’t take offense. She removed her opera glove from Iruma’s shoulder and bowed out gracefully. 

“I should probably be getting back to my date, anyway.”

Alice stared in confusion. If she wasn’t dancing with Iruma, then who? It didn’t take long to find Eiko smiling and waving from the edge of the dance floor, a wallflower in red. Amelie blushed. “I—isn’t that what you call it?”

“Right,” Iruma agreed. “Thank you for the dance.” He turned away without a word, and walked out onto the balcony,

Alice saw no reason not to accompany him. Or rather: Alice would not leave well enough alone, when it came down to it. The air was still beneath the cherry tree; the sky was cloudless and unmoved. “I should apologize, Iruma-sama. I never intended on being so late.”

Iruma turned back, and the slightest, uncertain smile graced his countenance. “You’re wearing the corsage.”

“If that’s what it’s called,” Alice replied. It didn’t add up. Iruma seemed… upset, to see him, but not upset at all, but happy to see him with someone else.  

“‘Course he is,” Clara chimed in. “We made it for him, he has to.”

Iruma’s eyes darted away again. “I don’t know, I thought you might have. Changed your mind.”

It was a miracle that Alice didn’t answer something like, ‘changed my mind about what?’ It was beginning to make sense. They meant something by it; all the affection he took in and clung to and tried foolishly to imitate was authentic. He was an idiot to think only his own declarations held any weight. They did mean to ask him, sincerely, straightforwardly, too delicately and too clumsily by turn. He shook his head, though he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He dropped to one knee, like the first day they met, and stole Iruma’s hand long enough to press a chaste kiss to the elegant arch of his fingers. “I am your spear. And I have no idea what you think of me, Clara, but I accept it.”

She tackled him. He very nearly cracked his head open. She was grinning as she leaned down to boop his nose. “Soulmate.”

“Are you okay??” Iruma asked, crouching down beside them. The horizon was catching fire in the periphery; the sky had decided that was the moment to go to pieces. When Alice looked up, he could see the stars streaking across like glittering specks of sunshine.