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“Chrollo! Feitan hit me!” came the cry from the corner where some of the other kids were play-fighting with long poles stolen from brooms and mops and other cleaning tools. They were meant to be practicing their stage combat, but when Chrollo looked to assess the situation, Shalnark was nursing a red welt on his arm. With concern, Chrollo crossed the busy room to press gentle fingers against the blooming bruise.
“He did it on purpose,” Shalnark said, the gap in his teeth whistling with every s sound. Chrollo gave him an apologetic smile.
“I’m sure he didn’t, Shal,” Chrollo said, pulling his hand away when he decided no serious damage had been done. “I’m sure it was an accident.”
“Well, I’m sure it wasn’t,” Shalnark said miserably, twisting his arm to try and get a better look.
When Chrollo looked over to Feitan, there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that told him that Shalnark was right. Even still, getting Feitan to apologize would be like pulling teeth. Instead he leveled a look at the devious little gremlin.
“I’m sure it won’t happen again,” Chrollo said simply, looking between Feitan and Phinks, who stood at his side. Phinks nodded once to indicate his own understanding before nudging Feitan, communicating the expectation better than Chrollo could.
Before Chrollo could add anything else, Nobunaga was approaching him with an eager, urgent stride.
“How’s the script coming?” he asked, holding his own collection of papers. Before Chrollo could answer, he added, “I had some notes.”
Chrollo smiled, trying to politely hide his amusement, “Oh, yeah?”
“It’s about the romantic arc of my character,” Nobu said, handing the stack of papers to Chrollo, who took them with confusion.
“Nobu, Green doesn’t have a romantic subplot,” Chrollo said, looking over Nobunaga’s careful penmanship.
“Well, I thought we could give Green one,” Nobunaga said as he pointed somewhere on the page.
“We have to work with the video,” Chrollo replied, eyebrows knitting together as he looked up at Nobu. Nobu grinned down at him.
“Do we? We’re doing a lot of the acting ourselves these days. I figure we can do what we want.”
Chrollo gave a nervous smile in defeat and skimmed over the writing. “Well, who’s going to be part of it with you?”
“Oh, so I was thinking-”
“Chrollo!” Paku’s voice cut off Nobu, to Chrollo’s relief, and he turned to face him and the other girls.
“We found a huge thing of cardboard!” Sarasa announced, arms outstretched.
“We can build sets,” Paku added, her smile brimming with excitement.
“Good cardboard?” Chrollo asked, brightening to match.
Sarasa was bouncing, “Yeah! It’s dry and everything! Sheets and sheets of it!”
“It’s perfect to build with,” Paku added, quickly, “We could just use another person to help carry it.”
“Sets? Did you find stuff?”
“That’s excellent!” Chrollo said before looking over his shoulder to Uvo and Franklin sitting on the floor and chatting. “Uh, Uvo!”
Without a second thought, Uvo jumped to his feet and plodded over with his own bright grin. “What do you need, boss?”
His voice was teasing, but it still turned Chrollo’s cheeks warm. He didn’t feel like he was in charge, but there was a kind, patient, and expectant look in Uvo’s eyes as he waited for instruction.
“The girls need help bringing some supplies from the trash dunes to the church,” Chrollo said, looking between Uvo and the girls.
“You’ve got it, boss,” he said, moving for the doors with the other three.
“Wait!” came a call as Machi hurried towards them, suddenly realizing she was left out of something. “I’m coming!”
Machi could take care of herself in the dunes, and had proved herself time and time again. Still, she was so small, and more prone to wandering than even Sarasa. Chrollo intervened.
“Why don’t you stay here?” he suggested.
“Franklin was about to head over to the light booth to set things up for the next show,” Uvo said, having turned when he heard Machi’s voice.
“Of course! Machi, you could help with that,” Chrollo said brightly. Machi hesitated but agreed. It was strange to have so much say, especially amongst his friends. He didn’t feel like he was anything special in comparison, but if he could help them by giving them direction or mediating between them, he would be eager to do so. It was the least he could do for them.