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A masquerade ball is that kind of the events that allows noble and royal figures to wear a mask which is both metaphorical and material. Along with all their desires, regrets, plans, intrigues and secrets, they also hide their faces.
Kiritani Haruka doesn't want to be here. Especially now. Despite all its rich decoration, the shining splendor of its ornaments, and the hundreds of glowing lights, the large hall of Hiiragi manor is stuffy, and the fan that has been clutched tightly in her hand does nothing to help her. Someone's sickeningly strong and sweet perfume makes Haruka feel nauseous; and the people constantly approaching her with greetings, compliments, invitations to dance, or just idle chatter about the weather or the clothes of others in the room aren't allowing Haruka to express her discomfort in any way through her posture, her gestures, or even her not hidden behind the elegant sky-blue mask lips which are lifted in a well-practiced, neutral-polite smile.
Haruka is the only daughter of the noble House of Kiritani. Therefore, she was bound to appear with her father and mother at this important ball which even the Crown Princess's aunt and uncle, the members of the royal family, had decided to attend. She cannot let her family down. She cannot upset her parents. She cannot act irresponsibly. She cannot be egoistical.
That is why she is standing here right now, in this large hall filled with illusory joy feeling completely out of place at this fake celebration of life. Hauka has no reason to refuse to attend this event: despite her current uneasy feelings, she is in perfect health. Haruka's unusually short for a noble girl hair is adorned with a pretty white ribbon tied in a bow at the side; her hands are clad in snow-white, thin gloves; one of her most beautiful summer evening dresses, decorated with numerous ruffles and forget-me-not lace, captures everyone's attention and causes admiring exclamations; her feet are presented in sparkling crystal slippers that someone sometime told Haruka a very touching and kind story about.
Haruka's gaze notices the old lady Aiko of the House of Kamisato, who is standing majestically as always, close to the long, almost well-length windows. In this unbearably hot and stuffy room, she feels a sudden bitter cold, and her heart is pierced by a needle of pain and almost erased shame. It takes her an incredible ammount of effort to find the strength to respond to the old lady's proud nod with a polite curtsey. Lady Aiko's infamous grandson is probably spinning in fast pas of a lively quadrille in the centre of the large hall right now, and Haruka is grateful to fate for allowing her to avoid, at least, him.
She feels sick. In her head the desperate cry of the betrayed Mai sounds like the tappings of a hammer, and Haruka sincerely wants to thank the loud music for not allowing her to hear that voice as clearly as it would be in silence.
"I hate lies! Hate, hate, hate!"
Haruka hates them too. But it is too difficult to be completely honest in their society, so even she often has to be insincere.
"Why, Haruka? Why didn't you tell me the truth? Even you? Why did you say that everything would be alright and that it would work out with him? Why?!"
But Haruka didn't lie that time. She sincerely believed that her dear friend and that young man had a true love. She believed that he was really going to marry this noble girl from an old, though impoverished, noble house. She believed that Kamisato Rihito didn't treat this relationship as a game, no matter what other nobles gossiped around the corner. That is why she tried to dispel Mai's doubts by assuring her that everything would be fine, smiling encouragingly all the time, even if she wasn't entirely confident in her own words deep within her soul.
"You are a liar too, Haruka?..."
She was not a liar but just a naive stupid girl who blindly believed in others' fairy tales that didn't happen in real life. She should have opened her eyes to the truth. She should have warned Mai. She should have been more careful. She should have been more cautious. She should have...
The sudden, ear-splitting absence of a lively chorus of voices helps Haruka to break free from running in circles thoughts that are no longer capable of changing anything. For some reason, all the conversations have stopped. Only the musicians continue to play their parts tranquilly as if nothing has happened.
Feeling a growing headache, Haruka closes her eyes for a second, then quickly opens them and looks around the hall with a more focused gaze. She immediately notices an extravagant, even for a masquerade ball, figure standing right in the centre of the room, unperturbed by the couples who have just been dancing but now are freezing in place. Despite the fact that this person's face is completely covered by a thick silver mask, Haruka instantly recognizes him. Undoubtedly, he was the reason for the sudden silence and shock among the guests.
Surrounded by all kinds of rumors, the sorcerer Kamishiro Rui always manages to stand out from the rest anywhere. Tonight is no exception either. Almost the floor-length shirt is combined with an assymetrical vest, and a belt with some unknown to Haruka tools is tied around the waist; the iron bracers with complex runic signs are seen on his hands; an absurdly large hat with a huge brim, tied with a purple ribbon with an iron feather sewn to it, rests on his head; the whole outfit is decorated with mechanical multi-coloured gears that seem ready to start spinning at any second.
There is something very strange about the fact that the person who hides his face so much with a mask also tries to show his true identity so much in everything else. But in fact, this is very fitting of Kamishiro Rui who is famous for his unusual and perplexing actions.
Although he was a man of humble origin and a son of an ordinary citizens' family, Sir Kamishiro gained widespread recognition and high status in the eyes of others because the members of the royal family, including the King himself, often sought his magical assistance. Not much was known about his life, and that was the reason why he was a frequent theme for gossip. Few people really understood why he did what he did or what was really going on in his head.
Everyone was careful of him. Everyone was wary of him. Everyone was afraid of him. But now, looking at Sir Kamishiro in person, Haruka feels only a slight envy of how free-spirited and honest to himself this person is. Not that she would ever do something like that, of course...
For some reason, among the hundreds of people who are looking at him with a great attention, it is Haruka whom Sir Kamishiro notices. His eyes light up with a strange kind of interest, and he tilts his head to the side slightly and starts walking towards her. Stopping right in front of the girl, he gives her a bow that doesn't comply with any etiquette rules and extends his hand without saying a word. Probably, this is some kind of strange, silent invitation to dance?...
Haruka needs to think carefully. On the one side, her dance with such a scandalous person would certainly not go unnoticed and would be the subject of a huge discussion for a long time. On the other side, a direct refusal to someone with such a formidable reputation would also make her a topic of gossip and strange stares.
Haruka glances at her parents out of the corner of her eye, trying futilely to find the signs of approval or discontent at their half-masked faces but she can't read their expressions at all. After making her decision, she quickly curtsies and places her hand on top of Kamishiro Rui's hand.
This man is undoubtedly very strange and incomprehensible. But he is so different from this stuffy room, from these falsely and condescendingly friendly aristocrats, and from her own self, that Haruka feels like dancing with him would be like running away from here far, far away. This thought makes Haruka smile for real for the first time this night.
After that, Sir Kamishiro pulls her into a dance so quickly that she doesn't have enough time or energy to think about anything else. He is leading her with both firmness and tenderness, and the warmth of his hands can be felt even through two pairs of gloves. Combining several different genres, his dance is completely unlike to any of the ones Haruka has already memorised. Thanks to her quick reflexes, she manages to keep up with Sir Kamishiro, but he still captures her full attention, preventing her from being distracted by anything else.
Haruka can no longer hear what the other nobles are whispering about because everything she needs for a dance is music. In the crazy whirlwind, all the faces, all the masks, even of her parents, are bluring into a single stream, and everything she can see clearly are the mischievously sparkling golden eyes in front of her. It seems that she has managed to escape, in some way.
Haruka does not want this dance to end.