Meilin's Secret Stage

"Meilin's already here?"

Simon asked around a mouthful of pudding, a dessert he'd picked up from a street stall.

"Yep."

"Didn't she say she was meeting up with us tomorrow?"

Dick smiled the sly, oily smile of a villain plotting something.

"The truth is, Meilin's been in Langestin for a whole week now."

"Whaaat?"

"Come with me and you'll see!"

Following Dick's lead, the three of them made their way to an enormous grand theater in the very heart of Langestin. Lavishly dressed noblemen and ladies in fine gowns were streaming through the doors, and from the calls of the staff, it sounded as though a play was about to begin.

"Three students, please."

Dick strode straight up to the front without so much as glancing at the line. The clerk selling tickets eyed the trio up and down.

"...Hm. Kids these days watch theater? Besides, the matinee tickets are all sold out."

Dick tilted his body at a rakish angle and smirked, proudly tapping the emblem stitched across his chest.

"Kidding. We're from Kizen."

Then, without a word, he glanced sideways at the two standing behind him.

Sighing inwardly, Simon half-heartedly copied Dick's posture, while Camibarez, cheeks burning, did her best stiff imitation beside him.

The name Kizen worked its magic instantly. The clerk doubled over in a deep bow and began rubbing his palms together, his language climbing straight into the highest register of politeness.

"K-Kizen? What business brings honored guests of Kizen here? Is there perhaps some problem with our theater—"

The easy grin vanished from Dick's face in an instant, replaced by a chill so cold it could frost glass.

"What, is there something you're feeling guilty about?"

"N-no, not at all! Shall I fetch the theater owner right away?"

"That won't be necessary. We're here quietly, on official business, and we'll be on our way shortly. Kindly refrain from reporting this up the chain."

"Y-yes, of course!"

And so the three of them walked into the theater on a free pass. A female staff member, visibly rattled by the appearance of Kizen students, bowed with exquisite courtesy and escorted them to the very best VVIP seats—a private box on the second floor, complete with its own table.

When she asked what wine they'd like to order, Dick pressed a finger to his forehead in an exaggerated salute and declined—they were on duty, after all. Once the door clicked shut behind her, Simon spoke.

"These seats are incredible."

From the second floor, the stage lay spread out before them in perfect view. Camibarez fidgeted, glancing nervously around the box before smoothing her skirt and settling primly into her chair.

"Are we... really allowed to do this?"

"Of course, of course."

Dick ran a hand over the plush armrest and crossed his legs like a man born to luxury.

"Isn't this what going to Kizen is all about? We may be students, but we have investigative authority too. You've got to know your perks and actually use them—that's how ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you live life without waste."

"Speaking of which."

Simon folded his arms.

"When exactly are you going to tell us why you dragged us to a theater?"

"Heh heh heh. All in good time. Ah—here we go!"

The house lights dimmed, and mana lamps washed the stage in soft radiance. The curtain rose, and there on the stage stood a girl with sky-blue hair in a white dress.

Simon's and Camibarez's jaws dropped.

"M-Meilin?!"

Dick doubled over, clutching his stomach.

"Heh heh heh! You had a hobby this entertaining and tried to hide it from us? You can't slip anything past my information network."

Before long, Meilin and a male actor appeared together and threw themselves into a passionate duet scene.

"Starvarego! I cannot go on without you!"

Meilin cried out.

"You must flee, Almacarina. A foreign army will soon descend upon this place. Even if it costs my life, you—and the child you carry—must survive."

He would leave her behind; no, she refused to go. The two of them plunged straight into melodrama from the very first beat, and soon music began to well up beneath their voices.

I can't wait to hear this. I've never heard Meilin sing before.

Simon's heart was thumping as he waited. Then Meilin clasped her hands at her breast and opened her mouth.

The very first note sent a shiver down Simon's spine. It was a voice of impossible clarity, pure and crystalline. The reactions ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rippling through the audience mirrored his own.

Meilin sang with one hand resting over her heart, and gradually her arms unfurled, her body swaying gently with the music. The entire hall was drowning in her voice—Camibarez included, and even Dick, who'd come purely to tease her.

And now came the climax.

Gasps of awe burst from every corner of the theater. As the melody crested, a voice both delicate and powerful spilled out of her, her expression tightening ever so slightly with the strain—and it was wonder made flesh. Her song kept melting the audience's hearts, carrying the piece steadily toward its final passage.

A burst of flame effects erupted across the stage, and Meilin and the male actor scattered apart. Then, from an audience still frozen in a daze, a storm of thunderous applause broke loose.

"Th-that was amazing!"

Somewhere along the way Camibarez had been swept completely into the story, and now she was clapping with tears brimming in her eyes. Simon rose from his seat and joined in.

Simon, a country bumpkin down to the marrow, had never in his life set foot in a theater of this size—but what struck him as most astonishing wasn't the spectacle itself. It was the fact that this actress on stage, commanding the crowd with nothing but her voice, was his own friend.

Besides, with all that heavy stage makeup and that gown, Meilin looked less like a girl his own age and more like a grown woman years older.

Before long the duet ended, and the play's timeline leapt fifteen years into the future.

"Huaaaam."

Dick began to yawn.

The story itself was nothing special—it followed the most conventional of narrative formulas. Meilin, parted from her husband, gave birth to a daughter alone, and when the girl grew up and wondered who her father was, she set off for a foreign land. There she fell in love with a young foreign man who had helped her—only to discover that he was, in fact, the son her own father had fathered, and she despaired.

...Hold on. Why on earth do they end up together?

In the end, the two of them threw themselves into a river, casting off every prejudice and shackle of society, and the curtain fell on that note.

A wild, out-of-nowever swerve. Simon simply gave up trying to make sense of it.

"Welp, that plot just ran straight off a cliff. Someone needs to fire the director."

Dick clicked his tongue in agreement.

And so the play drew to its close, with the entire cast dancing and singing a finale. Meilin came out to join them, lending her voice to the last song. The curtain fell, the lights came up, the actors bowed, and the audience—still lingering in the afterglow—rose one by one to applaud. The three of them did the same.

Soon the house emptied out.

"Alright, let's go!"

Dick said, practically bouncing.

"Go where?"

"To Meilin's dressing room, obviously! Our highlight starts now!"

The three left the VVIP box and headed for the wing where the actors' dressing rooms were. A staff member tried to bar the way—outsiders weren't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠allowed—but one glimpse of Dick's Kizen uniform sent him scuttling aside in a panic.

Dick swept his eyes quickly over the signs on each door as he passed, then stopped in front of one.

"Here it is."

He knocked lightly, and a voice from inside called, "Come in." Dick smirked and waved them forward.

"Okay, kids—here we go!"

"Yes, sir!"

The three flung the door open and piled inside.

Meilin, sitting before the mirror combing her hair out in neat strokes, noticed them only a beat too late.

"What the..."

Her dazed eyes went so wide they practically bulged.

"Wh-wh-wh-wh-what are you doiiiing heeeere!"

She shot to her feet, her face flooding crimson.

"Why are you three here?!"

Simon smiled warmly and gave a little wave.

"Great show, Meilin."

At the sight of Simon, Meilin's face flushed one shade deeper—straight past scarlet into magma. Camibarez clasped her hands together, eyes shining.

"Your singing was so, so beautiful, Meilin! And the dress was gorgeous too!"

"Thanks, Cami—wait, no, you lunatics! How did you even find this place?"

As she rounded on them, her gaze landed on Dick.

"Hnnngh! You again?!"

"Correct."

Dick struck his signature pose of the season—the forehead flick.

It was a gesture practically engineered to provoke fury and disgust, and a cosmetic bottle in Meilin's hand scored a direct hit on his forehead.

"I want to be alone, so get ooooout!!"

Meilin's embarrassment had long since exceeded all tolerable limits, and she decreed expulsion—but the intruders were not the sort to leave quietly.

Sprawled on the sofa, Simon raided the snack tray, while Camibarez had drifted around behind Meilin and was running her fingers over the dress with reverent curiosity. Meilin, for her part, buried her face in both palms, then peeked at Simon through the gaps in her fingers.

"D-did you see it?"

"See what?"

"My acting."

"I did. Start to finish."

"&$%*&@#!!!"

She made a sound no human language could parse and buried her face between her knees. Dick was too busy snickering to offer sympathy, so Simon spoke gently, trying to soothe her.

"What's there to be so embarrassed about? Your acting was great, and the singing was lovely."

"That's a completely different issue from people I know watching it!"

Meilin flapped her hands like fans, trying to cool her burning face. Then Camibarez asked, and Meilin came clean about the whole affair.

She had always been interested in theater, truth be told. She went to see plays often, and she'd long enjoyed singing as a hobby. The real trouble started when Serne had come looking for her in the middle of Ivory Tower training. The two had gotten into a spat, and it escalated into a wager—a duel of Jet-Black Elemental dark magic.

"Serne put her Ivory Tower succession claim on the line."

Meilin scratched the back of her neck as she spoke. Simon, listening intently, stifled a laugh. He could picture the whole scene perfectly. She'd no doubt charged in swinging, regardless of compatibility, as always.

"And if I lost, the condition was that I'd have to perform in a stage play, acting as an actress, in public."

"Ouch! So that's why you got utterly crushed, huh?"

"Well, I can't exactly smash your mouth in, can I."

Dick shut up at once. Meilin buried her face in her palms again.

"But that sly fox Serne...! I don't know how she did it, but she actually booked a grand theater performance here in Langestin and locked in my casting as an actress! Ugh, seriously...!"

"For someone who claims she had no choice, you certainly looked like you were having the time of your life up there."

Simon said with a smile. Meilin's answer was a blush and a petulant jut of her tongue.

"Well, I loved it! Out of all the actors, Meilin was the prettiest and sang the best!"

"...Thank you, Cami. These two only know how to tease. You really are the only one I can count on."

Just then, Dick hugged his own arms and put on a falsetto voice.

"Starvarego! I cannot go on without you!"

"DIIIIIE!"

Meilin wailed, hurling everything within arm's reach at him. Dick fled the room cackling.

"Ugh, seriously! Now I have to be a running joke for the entire semester! I wanted to die before letting HIM find out!"

"Hahaha!"

All four of them chattered and laughed until they were breathless.

Eventually Meilin washed off her stage makeup, changed into her uniform, and stepped out of the dressing room. And sure enough—no gaudy gown suited Meilin better than a Kizen uniform.

"But Meilin, the Almacarina role was kind of odd, wasn't it? I mean, she's the heroine's mother!"

Meilin giggled at her own absurdity.

"Ridiculous, right? The director's lost his mind. My so-called daughter is in her thirties. But that's show business—an established actress with name recognition has to play the lead."

"Ohhh, my daughter Rudogoramiya! How this mother's heart is torn asunder!"

"I'm going to tear YOU apart alive."

"Ack! My bangs! Let go of my bangs!"

Outside the actors' dressing room, where the four were raising a cheerful ruckus—

A platinum-haired girl leaned against the wall beside the door, idly swaying a feather back and forth. She peeled herself off the wall with a little snort of laughter.

The staff member with a feather tucked into his collar shuffled up wearing a dazed, dreamy expression, carrying a tray with two cups of black tea. She flashed a knowing smile and lifted one cup from the tray, and the employee drifted past her, walking on toward the side.

"This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one's for the lady down there."

She was not the only one waiting. A massive figure cloaked entirely in a pitch-black mantle stood on the other side of the door as well. At the employee's words, the man's face hardened.

"Get lost."

Thud.

The killing intent Dietrich unleashed dropped the feather-charmed employee where he stood. Whether it was the tea tumbling off the tray or something else entirely, the front of the man's trousers went dark and damp.

"What a waste~"

Serne remarked, taking an unhurried sip of her tea.

"Do you also have business with those people in there?"

"Remember this, human."

Dietrich's eyes gleamed crimson.

"If you lay that filthy power of yours on my daughter, that will be the day the Ivory Tower comes crumbling down."

"Yes, yes~"

Serne replied with perfect composure.

"Besides, adults interfering in a quarrel between children doesn't exactly look good, does it? The Vampire Lord, wrapped around someone's little finger~"

Dietrich snorted.

"And I suppose you intend to claim you're one of those 'children'?"

"Well, I am still seventeen, you know~"

The two exchanged smiles cold enough to raise the dead. Just then, the door burst open.

"Alright! Group 7 is finally back together in full—it's time for a toast!"

Dick bellowed. Meilin and Camibarez followed him out, and Simon, last through the door, pulled it shut behind them.

"Simon?"

Camibarez stopped mid-step and called his name. Simon was staring down at the floor.

A single fallen feather lay there—and beside it, an enormous footprint. Simon smiled quietly, then turned back to her.

"It's nothing. Let's go."